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Just like my mouth admits it, so does my body, erupting in the most bone-shattering orgasm I’ve ever experienced. It nearly crushes me, wipes every ounce of energy from my cells, until I’m collapsing, the silk ties of the dress the only thing holding my hands in place. Even my legs can’t hold me up anymore. My knees slide outwards, and I collapse onto my belly. Elio’s still inside me, and I drag him right along with me.
The violent sound of silk ripping fills my ears as Elio fists the dress and tears it away from the post, allowing my chest and head to fall onto the pillows. This position is even more intense, me flat on my belly with Elio driving into me, fucking me down against the mattress, the remnants of that perfect, ruined dress around my wrists like the most beautiful chains.
He’s so deep inside me, his elbows braced on either side of my shoulders, his head lowering. He buries his face in my hair, and I know that’s the moment that he comes. I feel the hot, explosive throb of him inside that private, spasming place, feel the way he loses his rhythm, overwhelmed just like I am. He fucks his way unsteadily through his orgasm, like he’s trying to get deeper with every twitch and spurt.
But there’s nowhere deeper for him to reach. Nowhere else for him to touch me.
Because Elio is already everywhere.
Chapter 35
Deirdre
The next two weeks pass in a busy blur. My days are dominated by the usual sorts of things – school and wedding stuff with Valentina. I attend my classes, sometimes with Elio, sometimes with Enzo if Elio has other business going on. And I go to extravagant cake tastings and printer shops and dress fittings with my bridesmaids – Valentina, Lucia, Giulia, and Annabelle. Enzo did a more thorough background check on Annabelle, and Elio allowed me to invite her into the group after all. The days seem to pass faster and faster, like dominoes colliding against each other, picking up speed as they hurtle towards an inevitable destination.
And my nights?
My nights belong to Elio.
Every night, he claims me, burying himself in my mouth or my ass. Even fucking my breasts, dragging his hot, veiny shaft between them until he explodes all over my throat. As soon as it’s safe, he starts coming in my pussy again, and in a quiet voice I’m pretty sure he thinks that I don’t hear, he says it feels like coming home.
On the twenty-eighth, though, the routine changes. It’s the first night in ages that I haven’t slept beside Elio. I’m currently ensconced in the jaw-dropping bridal suite of the Royal Thompson Hotel, while Valentina, Lucia, Giulia, and Annabelle try to get me to have another glass of champagne.
“I can’t,” I laugh, my stomach flip-flopping in rebellion against that idea. I’m so fucking nervous, and the drinks I’ve already had haven’t done a thing to help.
“True. Probably better not to be hungover on the morning of your wedding,” Annabelle says, pulling the bottle away from Valentina who was trying to hold the spout over my head and dump the bubbles down my throat.
I shoot Annabelle a grateful glance, and Valentina groans, flopping onto the bed beside me.
“No fun,” she says, pouting, looking younger than she normally does with no makeup on and her blonde hair fanning out around her on the bed.
“No one said you had to stop drinking,” I say, poking her with my freshly polished toe. This whole day has been a series of treatments at the hotel’s spa with the other four – facials and waxing and smoothing of things that I didn’t even know needed to be smoothed.
“And you’ll get your chance soon enough,” Giulia says, grabbing the champagne bottle from where Annabelle put it down on the table beside the gigantic bed Valentina and I are on. “Have you and Dario set a date yet?”
“Ugh! Don’t remind me,” Valentina grumbles, sitting up. “No, there’s no date yet. And whenever there is a date, I don’t think I’m going to get any say in it. I’ll be informed of it. Same way I was about the engagement itself.”
“Well, I certainly know what that’s like,” I say, poking her with my toes again.
“Yeah, but you’re at least marrying somebody who cares about you,” Valentina sighs. “That boy is obsessed.”
“That man is not a boy,” Giulia snorts.
“Amen to that,” Annabelle says quietly, and Lucia laughs. An odd feeling of pride makes my belly warm. Pride that Elio is mine.
Never thought I’d see the day.
And tomorrow, I will marry him.
I glance at the clock, startled to see that it’s already 1am. Valentina follows my gaze and says, “Well, ladies? What do you think? Gotta let the bride get her beauty sleep.”
There’s a chorus of agreement, and a slightly tipsy-sounding complaint from Giulia, but ultimately everybody gets up to head to their own rooms.
“You’re good?” Annabelle says after the other three head out the door and into the hotel’s hallway. Enzo is stationed outside my door, and his gaze meets Annabelle’s for a moment before she turns her attention back to me. “You sure you don’t want someone to stay in here with you?”
It’s a kind offer, trying not to make me feel alone tonight. Maybe it’s the champagne or the impending wedding or the empty bed in the room, but loneliness suddenly stabs between my ribs.
Or maybe it’s the fact that Willow isn’t here when I always thought she would be.
