Page 23

TWENTY-THREE

giovanni

T he wedding dress slips off her body, sliding over her curves as it drifts to the floor.

My wife.

My heart and my soul.

She smiles at me and presses her finger against her lips, letting it slip into her mouth, she licks it, teasing me.

Zina has pushed me into the chair in our bedroom and insisted that I stay here and not move.

Now she’s seducing me by slowly stripping off clothes, layer by layer, revealing the white lace lingerie beneath everything.

She turns her back on me and bends down, pushing one lace stocking down her leg, arching her ass towards me. The thin lace of her panties covers nothing at all, and the sight of her perfectly pink pussy makes my cock throb harder.

I pull the button of my pants open, easing the strain off my cock, letting it free instead of leaving it confined against the fabric.

When she spreads her legs and reaches through her legs, still bent over, to cup her hand over her pussy - I can’t help myself. I wrap my fingers around my cock and squeeze.

She glances at me and drops her mouth open.

“I said no touching.” She scolds me.

“Why don’t you come over her and stop me?” I dare her.

She giggles, pulling her mouth to the side and scrunching her nose. “I’m not falling for that.” She sasses.

I stand up.

Zina’s eyes widen as she takes a step back. “I’m not done. Sit down.” She tries to sound authoritative, but I take another step towards her and she squeals in fright.

She turns to run and I’m on top of her before she can reach the bed.

Grabbing her, I sit on the edge of the bed and throw her over my knees. Holding her in place I slap her ass hard.

She cries out and tries to squirm free, but I’m holding her too tightly. I brush my hand over her ass, playing with the white lace, I dip my fingers between her legs to feel her pussy.

“Soaked.” I growl.

She wiggles again, moving against my fingers as she lays bent across my lap.

I pull my hand away and grab a handful of her hair, tugging her head up. My lips brush against her ear as I growl, “Did you really think I would let you tease me?”

She giggles in defiance. “You were just too weak to control yourself.” She says, boldly.

I sneer, hating the fact that she’s right. I can’t hold back when it comes to her.

My hand slices through the air and stings across her ass again. She gasps in shock, but she has very little time to process the pain before I lift her off my lap and throw her onto the bed, face down, ass up, legs spread.

“If you move, I will hurt you.” I warn her and she freezes obediently.

This time when I spank her I let my hand land right across her pussy.

She screams in delight, arching up towards me, her pussy swelling instantly. Rosy, red lips, throbbing with need.

I touch them, letting my fingers slip between them to play with her clit.

She moans and pushes into my hand. My cock is aching to slide over her wetness, and to push into her.

“Who do you belong to?” I ask, positioning myself behind her.

“You.” She whispers.

“I can’t hear you, Zina.” I warn her, brushing my cock between her pussy lips.

“I belong to you.” She says louder.

“That’s right.” I growl, thrusting my hips forward - my cock plunges into her with such force she forgets how to breathe for a moment. Her fingers tighten around the bedding and she shudders on her knees in front of me.

I slide out, fueled by the ecstasy of being inside her, and thrust forward again. She gasps and her grips tighter as I begin to fuck her like I own her. And I do. I own her now. She is mine and she will never belong to another soul.

My cock throbs at the thought. The thought of controlling her, possessing her, fucking her -

I push in deeper, perhaps too hard, too fast - and she tries to squirm away, whimpering.

Grabbing her hips I shove her flat onto the bed.

“I’m sorry, little firefly.” I growl, unable to stop, unable to hold back. My cock is aching, and she is mine to do with as I please.

I slam into her pussy, harder and faster, pinning her beneath me, her body belonging to me - not her. She is my wife.

She’s gasping and crying out each time I enter her, but her cries are different now. She wants more. She wants me to take her to the edge and push her over into pure bliss.

My cock stretches her open every time I move forward and leaves her begging and arching every time I pull out.

In no time at her she is shaking beneath me.

Her body quivering as her mind slips away. I grab her arms and fold them behind her back, her face pushed harder into the bedding.

Pleasure builds become too much to bare.

Her pussy tightens over my cock, I can’t last much longer.

But I don’t need to.

I thrust into her again and her mind snaps as she convulses, her orgasm so intense she is writhing beneath me, sending me over the edge with her, as my cock goes rigid and I explode inside her.

Today has been the perfect day.

It was long, and chaotic and beautiful.

I couldn’t have wished for a more magical wedding, and my heart is full of love for the woman lying in my arms, in the darkness of our bedroom. It’s peaceful, quiet and safe as she drifts to sleep with her head against my chest.

On the nightstand my phone buzzes. It’s set to vibrate but against the wooden top it’s noisy and alarming.

I reach out, quickly trying to silence it so that Zina isn’t woken up.

For a moment I pause, the phone in my hand, while I wait to see if she stirs. But she doesn’t. She’s still breathing peacefully, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Carefully slipping my arm out from beneath her I sit on the edge of the bed to read the message I received.

Unknown: She will destroy you, Giovanni. How can you trust her? Do you even know who she really is? All those years apart - she’s not the same women you met sixteen years ago.

My jaw clenched uncomfortably tight.

When will this end?

Why is someone so determined to make me doubt her?

I glance behind me at her peaceful, beautiful face.

And why is it so easy to plant that seed of doubt? Is it because I already have doubts of my own? Doubt I’ve been denying and pushing aside for too long.

I read the message again and sneer.

Fuck.

It’s our wedding night. Can’t I enjoy one night?

I set the phone back down and lie down again. Zina mumbles quietly. “Where did you go?” in a soft, sleepy voice.

“Nowhere. I’m right here.” I reply, but my body is tense.

She wraps her arm around my waist and snuggles again, but for some reason I hold back. She’s lying in the cradle of my arm, but I can’t bring myself to brush my fingers over her skin, to touch her with love -

My heart is beating harder than it should be.

She notices my discomfit and lifts her head to look at me, her long hair messy around her face.

“Gio,” She whispers my name. “Are you ok?”

I should tell her about the message, but what good would it do?

“I’m fine, my angel. Go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.” I mutter.

She shakes her head. “I can see that something is wrong, why won’t you tell me what it is?”

“Zina, I need you to leave it alone please.” I say, too harshly.

She bites her lip and lies her head back down on my chest. Now I can sense her discomfort as much as she can sense mine.

Sighing I force myself to wrap my arm around her properly.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “I’m just thinking about things.

She nods but says nothing.

Zina is asleep again, breathing softly. I’m watching her naked back, the gorgeous curve of her spine and the delicate outline of her ribs moving as she breathes. Her perfect, smooth skin. Her long dark hair.

What if I made a mistake?

I was so desperate to convince myself that I could trust her that I forced the wedding to go ahead much sooner than it should have. Maybe I should have waited. Maybe I needed more time to learn about who she is.

With all the warnings, and threats - I should have looked into it first. I should have cleared it up before making her my wife.

I think I’ve made a huge mistake and there is no way I can take it back.

The bedside clock is glowing red, telling me it’s past three. The house is dark and quiet, and I have not found even a moments sleep yet.

My head is swimming, my heart is turning colder the more I consider all the things I should have considered before.

I’m going numb with worry.

And the only option I have left - the only way I can fix this is to prove to myself that all of those warnings are false.

I need to find evidence, something, anything, to prove that there is no truth to any of it - that someone is just messing with my head to throw me off.

Then, I can love her.

Realizing that sleep won’t find me tonight or give me a moments freedom from this worry - I slip away from her and make my way down stairs to make coffee.

Without turning lights on I stand in the dark kitchen, my eyes already adjusted to the night hours ago, and quietly go through the motions of making coffee.

I’ll have to keep my investigation to myself. I don’t even want Santino or Fabio knowing. If anyone finds out I’m looking into my wife’s past they will have confirmation that I don’t trust her - and it will give them permission to doubt her too.

I have enough on my hands with Santino being so openly against our marriage. And Fabio still warning me not to let her control me.

I stare at my phone as hot steam wisps from the coffee next to me.

I know who to message.

But once it’s done, it’s done. There is no turning back.

I have no choice.

Punching at my keyboard I type out the message I’m reluctant to send - instructing the private investigator to look into her past. Everything and anything about her that I need to know.

When I hit send, I expect to feel guilt, but instead I feel relief. A weight lifts off my shoulders and I close my eyes, relishing it.

It’s just a precaution.

He’ll find nothing and I will be able to carry on with my life instead of worrying over this.

I shove my phone into my pocket and walk out into the garden. It’s still messy with remnants of our wedding. White flowers litter the grass and empty champagne glasses sit on tables around the tents.

It ended late - a team will be here first thing in the morning to take all of this away - the garden will return to normal as though nothing happened here.

I look down at my finger, the solid platinum band around it is heavy and uncomfortable in my doubt.

Toying with it I push it in circles over my fingers.

I hope he replies soon.

I can’t wait long.

I need to know if I can trust her.