Page 14 of Hateful Vows

TEN

DANTE

T he atmosphere in the dining room of the restaurant, one of the very few that isn’t owned by any known crime families, is tense.

And people have fucking moved the tables I spent hours organising, and no one is respecting my seating plan.

I’d kill every last one of them, but then mamma would be sad.

And I can’t kill all my cousins, uncles, and capos, or our new Russian allies.

Yet. At least, the dull, modern furniture looks a little brighter with all the flowers I had my wedding planner order and display everywhere.

The bouts of luminous colours make the whole thing a little less depressing.

I always knew I would have an arranged marriage but why did everyone have to dress up like it’s a funeral? Especially on the Russian side.

Irina sits next to me at the main table, Aleksei on the other side, and Lucie next to him. They both look at the Bratva side with dark looks. Aleksei even set his gun on the table in a clear message. Anyone who makes trouble will pay the ultimate price.

“Who’s the lovely bride? She’s so pretty. Who is she marrying, Dante?” my mother asks and I tense. In the corner of my eyes, Irina leans forward. She isn’t smiling but her eyes are kind as she addresses my mother, seated next to me.

“I’m Irina, Mrs Ventura. I’m the lucky one marrying your son.”

I snort.

“My son?” My mother’s brow dips but then her eyes clear. “Of course, carina . Forgive me, I’m not like myself today. So many emotions.” She kisses my cheek and I signal to her driver to take her home.

“Is your mother okay?”

“She’s fine,” I snap. “Eat.”

“Don’t make me stab you with my fork, kozyol .”

Just like that, my foul mood at seeing my mother’s distress eases up.

I looked the word up on the translator app on my phone.

It means “goat” in Russian. Many websites said it’s a lower level insult, more affectionate and aimed at mocking men, and their intelligence, but I like it.

My little viper of a wife may be insulting me but she’s not calling me something too bad.

And some passion is better than indifference.

With the way she kissed me back at the altar, I know I’ll have her hooked and back for more in no time.

Already, I’m itching for another kiss. I’ll get drunk on it for as long as she’ll allow it. And if that’s all I ever get, my hand and I are about to get re-acquainted, because there is no way I’d ever touch another woman.

I turn my attention to Irina. She’s chewing the delicious food I selected for our wedding dinner slowly.

She thinks I don’t see it when she takes a bite of something new and her shoulders relax when she finds it good.

But I do. I watch her throat bob as she swallows and purse my lips, restraining myself from licking a path up the column of her neck.

It’s a tragedy that she left it bare. Now that she’s married to me, I want to see her draped in jewellery I bought for her.

She’d look stunning in nothing but a river of diamonds.

Seeing the ring on her finger squeezes something inside my chest. It’s a strange feeling. I like it.

“I can’t believe we’re aligning with the fucking Russians,” someone says and I raise my gaze, scanning the crowd of my men. A group of capos that worked closely with my father are huddled together, their faces hunched over in secret. But they’re close enough to be heard.

“It’s a disgrace,” another one adds. His wife tries to shush him, stealing glimpses towards our table and blanching when she sees me looking.

If he were smart, he’d listen. But he continues.

“Dante’s always liked whores but this is the lowest low.

She’s not Italian, she’s an old hag and rumour has it she shags foot soldiers on a regular basis. ”

“Maybe he’ll let us try her out, too, then.”

I’m up in seconds, pulling my gun out of its holster under my suit jacket and firing at the last asshole, right at the back of his fucking head. Brain matter and blood splash on his comrades’ faces, who look up in fear. A few women scream and everyone jumps up.

“No one insults my wife and lives!”

I have no patience for these assholes. Another shot kills the capo who didn’t listen to his wife and she stumbles back. I march to the table, rage filling my veins. Taking hold of the third man’s hair, I press the mouth of my weapon under his chin.

“Do you have anything to say about my wife, Signore Lombardi?”

He shakes like a leaf. My index finger trembles with the need to pull the trigger.

Irina’s standing a few feet away. I pull the man out of his chair and throw him at her feet. “Swear fealty to your queen, Lombardi. Or die.”

His eyes are filled with anger but he drops his forehead to Irina’s feet.

“ Lealtà, dovere, coraggio, Signora Ventura. I swear to be loyal and serve.”

“This would have never happened with Ivan,” someone mutters to my left.

A gunshot echoes through the room and my eyes shoot up to Aleksei, gun raised against his clan. His voice is low and cold when he speaks and it travels up my skin with delicious ease.

“Ivan is dead. You all answer to me now. One word against Irina or this alliance, you die like this pig. Clear?”

Men and women alike beat their closed right fist to their heart and bow their heads once.

Power looks hot but on the Dobrev siblings. It’s intoxicating.

I glance at Lucie, who’s still seated, her fork hovering over her mouth. Our eyes meet and she winks before she chews on her food like nothing happens.

“Are you okay?” I mouth.

My little cousin has the audacity to roll her eyes at me, and I chuckle. She’s only twenty but acts like she’s seen this type of violence and worse all her life. I doubt her foster family shielded her from anything.

Good.

I bring my attention back to Aleksei. Brown and green irises clash with mine and he nods, asking a question to Irina in Russian.

Maybe if she’s okay. She nods, the picture of satisfaction with a hint of boredom.

And why does that make me fucking hard? She doesn’t balk at the sight of blood, seems to revel in humiliation and power.

It makes her even more attractive than her sinful body and chin held high.

“It’s not a mafia wedding if people don’t die,” Tino jokes and a few people snicker.

I signal for three of my men. “Clean this shit up.”

The bodies are dragged away, and the floor is mopped in minutes. Music resumes before the dessert is brought to our table.

Irina is visibly agitated though, shifting on her chair next to me. It’s unlike her. I might have known her for only a short time, but she’s easy to read. A hot-blooded woman in the body of an ice queen. She stands, then glances down at me. “Follow me.”

And like a pup, I do.

Curiosity might kill the cat but with the sight of her round ass swaying side to side in the cream dress, it wouldn’t be such a bad last view.

Irina’s eyes peek behind her shoulder and she continues walking before pushing the door to the ladies room open and walking in. I’m seconds behind her, locking us in as I stand in front of her.

“Any reasons my wife drags me to the ladies room before dessert?” I taunt.

“Shut the fuck up.”

And with that, she’s on me.

Irina pulls my head down with force, our lips clashing together like metal and magnet. Her fingers thread through my hair and she pulls, drawing a groan out of my chest.

“I like where this is going, vipera .”

“You’re unbearable,” she says between kisses, before she bites down on my lower lip.

I take hold of her plump ass and squeeze. “Give me more of that sweet hate, vipera . I can take it.”

The nails of her other hand rake down my neck and I shudder. Our tongues battle for dominance but I’ll never give it to her. I take hold of her throat and tighten my grip just enough to show her what I could do to her. And she sighs into my mouth. Like that’s all she needs.

My cock is rock hard in my pants. I drag Irina’s body closer to mine with my hand on her perfect ass, and she moans.

Fucking wedding dress with no slit . I can’t take hold of my wife properly and wrap her around my waist. I want nothing more than dry hump her right now, or better yet, fuck her against the counter and leave her to leak my cum down her legs.

Have her sit there uncomfortably in front of dozens of men who hate her and want her in equal measures, knowing she belongs to me.

Maybe even dear Aleksei would be able to smell me on her. The thought is the sweetest aphrodisiac.

I walk Irina back against the bathroom counter, sitting her down.

She’s fast to bunch up her dress, lifting her hips up so the fabric moves around her waist. When she motions her hand towards her centre, I slap her fingers away.

“Don’t fucking touch that sweet cunt,” I growl. “It’s mine.” I slide her white lace panties to the side and massage her clit before inserting two fingers inside her.

Her whimper is sweet music to my ears.

“My body will never be yours,” she pants.

“I’d believe you if I weren’t knuckle deep in your sloppy wet cunt, sposa mia . Listen how fucking drenched you are for the man you hate.”

When I thrust my fingers in and out with a quick flick of my wrist, the sounds of how wet she is echoes between us.

It’s lewd and fucking perfect. With the palm of my hand, I draw tight circles around her clit, her breaths coming out laboured.

I drink them down, slanting my lips over hers again.

And she lets me. The vicious viper of the Bratva is unravelling under my touch and I’ve never felt more powerful.

I slowly insert a third digit. My little wife rolls her hips in tandem with my hands.

“Greedy girl,” I praise. “Who knew I married such a perfect little slut?”

I expect her to slap me, or stab me with the knife attached to the holster at her thigh. But Irina Ventura is full of surprises. She moans louder and licks my neck before latching onto it. I hope she leaves a mark.

My cock is throbbing, desperate for release.

I haven’t felt this turned on in years. I look down at where my fingers disappear inside her and I could come just from the perfect view of my wife fucking herself on my hand.

When I look up, Irina’s gaze is down to where she’s full of me.

Her cheeks are flushed, breasts heaving and hands clasping on my suit.

She’s so fucking breathtaking. And so fucking close.

“Are you gonna be my perfect whore and come on my hand, sposa mia ?”

Her eyes shut and she shakes her head, clamping her lips together not to moan, but her body betrays her. Her walls spam around me; her nipples peek through the silk of her wedding dress.

“Yes, you are.” I lean down to whisper in her ear. “You’re gonna come on your husband’s hand like the greedy slut you are. You’re gonna give me everything you have and maybe, I’ll let you down easy. Maybe, I’ll wring some more cum out of you until I’ve decided I’ve had enough. Do you understand?”

Her moans grow louder, mewling with every flick of my wrists, her hips shaking desperately.

“Come now, wife.” She explodes on my hand, drenching me in her juices to the wrist. “Fuck yes. Squirt all over my hand. Just like that.”

Her orgasm is long and heady. I’d fall to my knees and drown in her release if she weren’t clenching her fists around my jacket so tightly.

Eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy, she looks so unguarded and vulnerable.

It’s a sight to behold and I want a repeat.

Immediately. I continue fucking her with my hand, but when I move to drop down to my knees, she stops me.

I withdraw from inside her warm heat. Then she jumps off the counter, wincing with how wet she must be against the underwear, the dress falling down to her ankles.

And she kneels at my feet, making quick work of my belt and zipper and taking me out with expert hands.

I don’t have time to enjoy the view as she takes me into her mouth. My head falls back on a deep exhale.

“I knew you were cock hungry, sposa mia . Are you gonna swallow me down?”

Our eyes clash, the warm brown of her irises gone and replaced with dark hunger. My hands move to each side of her head, threading through the soft strands and fucking up her ponytail. The long strands flow freely, giving her a more ravaged look. She’s magnificent.

“Tap my leg if you don’t want me to fuck your face, Irina. Otherwise, I’m gonna take what I want,” I warn.

The minx’s eyes flash with fire and she takes me even deeper into her throat. I hit the back and she gags. Holding her head, I stop all her movements. If she’s allowing me to fuck her mouth like this, I’m gonna enjoy it to the fullest. God knows when she’ll be back to hating me.

“Touch your pretty pussy, wife. I want you to come while you choke on my cock.”

The edges of her teeth tease my flesh and it just makes me want to punish her. I withdraw to the tip before thrusting into her mouth harder, choking her like I promised.

Tears well at the edges of her eyes.

“Cry for me. It makes me fucking hard.”

Mascara and tears gather on her lashes before the makeup falls on her pink cheeks when I thrust forward over and over. Saliva pools at the corners of her mouth, falling to her neck and collarbone. She looks wrecked and I love it.

In a matter of minutes, my balls draw tight and I’m ready to let go.

Irina’s hollowed cheeks and sucking sounds are getting me towards my release quickly, the edge within reach.

Her hand moves faster under her dress, her eyes getting droopy again.

It makes me feral to see the Ice Queen unravel for me, getting off with my cock in her vicious mouth.

“Such a greedy whore, cuore mio . So fucking perfect for your husband’s cock. Are you gonna take what I give you?”

My voice strains with lust. She moans and nods around me, a hand on my thigh for support as she closes her eyes and comes for me again, shuddering and relaxing her throat. I lose myself, releasing inside her mouth in hot spurts that seem to go on forever.

I’m barely recovered when Irina uses my body to stand, grabbing my jaw with her manicured hand and kissing me, my cum falling from her lips to mine. The groan that escapes me is animalistic.

But bliss is short-lived. She takes a step back, adjusts her dress and removes all the remaining pins in her hair to let it cascade down her back. After cleaning her mouth and chest, she looks over at me in the mirror with that all-too-familiar hateful gaze again.

“Get out.”

I’ll let her get away with it this one time but next time she comes for me, letting her to deal with the aftermath on her own won’t do.