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“I’m going to come,” he says giving me enough time to pull away, even though I don’t. I let the warm liquid seep down my throat until he jerks to a halt and wipe away the residue messily with the back of my hand.
“Are you sure you’ve never done that to another man?” he says looking down at me possessively with narrowed eyes.
I shake my head, and he nods. “Good, I don’t like sharing.”
“How many women have you had?” I blurt out.
“Does it matter?” He says while glaring at me.
“Yes, because if you get all of my firsts, what do I get in return?” I say, feeling abashed suddenly as my mind flashes back to Keira and her wicked smile.
“You’re the first woman I married, does that count for anything?”
“Not out of choice, it was justbusiness,” I reply, quoting him.
“You’re telling me if you had a choice, I would be the groom you wanted?” he asks, his eyes burning into mine. I don’t reply, and he rebukes, “I guess I’m not the only one playing a part.”
“I’m not playing anything,” she says, standing up and turning on her to heel to leave, but I tug at her arm, and she lands on my lap.
“I never said we were finished,” I say, glancing down at her.
“I’m not in the mood,” she says glaring at me defiantly.
“Your body says otherwise,” I say teasing my finger over her opening, which is dripping wet.
“Stop it,” she says batting my hand away from her.
This time when she tries to get up, I don’t stop her. The door slams and I fight every impulse of anger not to follow her.
Some fucking wedding night, I think to myself as I make my way into the shower, allowing the cold water to beat down hard on me as every single part of today whips through my mind. Maybe just maybe, this isn’t going to be as easy as I thought it would. I didn’t imagine Sophia would be as docile as Angela, but I also didn’t think she would be as volatile as I am. Then again, I also wasn’t counting on being the first man to fuck her, not that I had got toyet.
Everything I thought I knew had been washed away and put together with the realization that she still pined for whoever was inked on her wrist. I can just imagine the looks of all the other men if they ever found out nothing happened tonight.
By the time I finish my excruciatingly long shower and return to the master bedroom Sophia is turned to one side, but she isn’t asleep. The breathing is a little too forced and ragged for it to be natural. I consider sleeping next to her for a brief moment before changing my mind. Forcing her to be in my presence isn’t going to help matters. I will get her to come around eventually. We both know we need to keep up appearances.
Weak sunlight penetrates through the large penthouse windows. To my amazement, I realize that I eventually slept despite tossing and turning throughout most of the night—the consequences of last night setting in uncomfortably. I had refused Rocco sex on our wedding night, and in turn, he hadn’t slept here. My eyes burn as I wipe away the tears threatening to spill out on the corners of the comforter. The marriage was already doomed before we even started. What if he had called Papa to tell him what I had done?
Would he? I saw the look of fury etched darkly across his face last night when I pulled away from him, so maybe he would?
I lean against the headboard in silence, half waiting for Mama or one of Rocco’s men to walk in and drag me back home, but it never happens. Reluctantly, I stand up and open the bedroom door, nobody else is in the penthouse. The spare room hasn’t been slept in, nor have any of the couches sprawled across the lounge. If Rocco hasn’t slept here, where did he sleep?
Keira’s face flashes across my mind, along with a million others who had attended the wedding and had eyes for Rocco. My stomach clenches painfully as I get dressed and showered. Walking out of the penthouse door, one of Rocco’s men escorts me to the patio for breakfast. My heart tightens seeing him. He is dressed entirely in black with tinted shades on, so I can’t see his whole expression. He is in deep conversation with his other men, who stop talking when I walk in. Surely, they don’t know about what happened last night?
“Morning, Sophia,” Rocco says in a crisp toneless voice. “Coffee?”
“Yes, thanks,” I reply in a strangled tone.
He waves his hand, and a waitress comes over to pour me coffee. I keep my eyes down as I take a croissant and butter it.
“Sleep well?” Dominic asks cheekily before Rocco turns to him, and his grin fades. Even with sunglasses on, his look screams anger.
“Fine, thanks,” I say, biting slowly.
The conversation between the men continues, and I tune them out barely peering up from my plate to gaze at Rocco. I can already see his jaw is clenched slightly indicating his mood.
“Party’s here!” A voice comes from behind me, and Rocco groans as Lucia sits down next to me.
“What are you doing here?” Rocco asks irritably.
