I can barely process the words. I can only cling to his broad shoulders, my fingernails digging through the fabric of his shirt as I try to hold on for dear life. The sheer power of his movements has my head tossing back against the wall, my legstrembling as he lifts me slightly off the ground to angle me perfectly for his deepest strokes.
"Alessandro, please—" I sob, the words fragmenting into broken, ragged moans.
"Please what,dolcezza? Tell me," he growls, shifting his grip to cup the back of my thigh, lifting it higher to drive himself all the way to my hilt. The wet, slapping sound of his skin hitting mine fills the tight space, entirely uncensored. "Tell me how much you want it. Tell me who is stretching you out right now."
"You," I whimper, tears of overwhelming pleasure leaking from the corners of my tightly closed eyes. I am completely helpless against him, unable to move, unable to do anything but take the relentless, possessive pounding. "It's you. Please..."
"Good girl," he pants, his hot breath scalding my neck as his pace grows faster, harder, more desperate. He curves inside me, hitting that exact hyper-sensitive spot again and again until my vision starts to blur with an oncoming crash. "Open your eyes, Sienna. Watch me take what's mine. I want you to remember this exact feeling when you're walking down that aisle toward me."
I open my eyes, my gaze locking onto his dark, burning stare. The sheer intensity of his possessiveness is terrifying, but it sends a violent wave of heat straight to my center. My internal muscles clamp down tightly around him, completely saturated and pulsing.
"That's it," he groans, a dark, primal sound tearing from his throat as he feels my body tighten. He delivers three more heavy, devastating thrusts that rattle my entire frame. "Clench around me, sweetheart. Take all of it."
With a final, desperate cry, I shatter completely, my body shaking with a violent orgasm that locks my legs around his waist. Alessandro lets out a low growl, his jaw tight as he drives himself into me one last time, pinning me flat against the wall as his own release hits him, filling me completely while the heavy satin train falls back around us in the quiet room.
He slowly pulls out of me, a soft gasp escaping my lips at the sudden loss of his heat. My legs slide down his body, my knees so weak they threaten to buckle instantly against the plush carpet, but he keeps his strong arms wrapped firmly around my waist, supporting my weight. He leans down and presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips—in stark, striking contrast to the absolute ferocity of the last ten minutes.
Then he steps back, adjusting his trousers and fixing his zipper before looking up at me. His dark eyes scan the slightly wrinkled, heavy satin gown still bunched in my hands. A knowing, wicked smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Now, we definitely have to buy the wedding dress."
A breathless, shocked laugh bubbles up from my chest before I can even stop it. Alessandro's deep, rough chuckle joins mine, the rich sound vibrating in the changing room.
He steps forward, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing over my flushed cheek. He plants one final, quick kiss on my forehead. "We have to go,dolcezza. The elders don't like to be kept waiting, and we still have a long night ahead of us."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALESSANDRO
By the time I pull the sports car into the long, winding driveway of the Gallo estate an hour later for dinner, Sienna has developed a massive attitude with me.
Yeah.
One would think that after such beautiful, feral sex in a changing room, we could actually manage to exist in the same space for sixty minutes without crashing out. I was honestly even willing to put in the effort to keep things smooth, but the moment we reached the counter to finalize the purchases, she had whipped out her father's card.
Massimo Caruso's fucking black card.
She’s been furious ever since because I told her to take that piece of plastic home and shove it up her father’s hairy old ass. Sheclaimed I was being unnecessarily rude and disrespectful, and she completely refused to speak a single word to me since then.
Maybe I could have phrased it a little better, but I meant exactly what I said.
Sienna is mine. My responsibility. My wife. My woman. Mine.
I can take care of her, and I have more than enough money to buy her whatever the hell she wants. If she wants to splurge, she can use my damn card.
After everything Massimo has done to her—especially after what I found out in that elevator—I don’t want his name, his money, or his shadow associated with her ever again. I’d kill the bastard right now if it wouldn't start a multi-front war before the weekend.
I kill the engine, shift the car into park, and turn my body toward her. She’s changed into the deep emerald silk dress we bought for the dinner. Despite the fact that there isn't a single inch of skin on display, she looks absolutely divine. Regal. Stunning.
"I don't know what the hell you’re catching an attitude for," I rumble, resting my arm on the steering wheel. "But in there, we have to at least act like we like each other. The elders are looking for a reason to tear us apart."
She slowly turns her head, pinning me with a sharp, icy glare. "Is an apology too much for you, Alessandro the Great?"
I stare at her full, glossed lips, and a dark part of me wants to tell her that any apology I give would be a total lie anyway. I want to tell her that if she wants a sorry so badly, I can give her one and she can shove that up her sweet, tight ass right along with her father's Amex.
But I bite the words back. Not because I’m remotely scared of her, of course not, but because this simply isn't the time or the place to trigger another blowout. We have a performance to give.
"Sorry," I mutter, the word tasting like ash on my tongue.
She rolls her eyes dramatically, letting out a soft, dismissive scoff. "You absolutely suck at that. But don’t worry, I’m a good actress. Let’s go."
