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“By the way...” I slowed her movement, flashing my eyes up at her. “You’re going to be my fucking wife.”
“Wh-what?” she panted. She stopped and stared at me, wide eyed.
“I got your father’s blessing,” I told her with a smirk. I basked in her motionlessness for a few moments. My cock twitched inside her.
“H-how?” She looked dumbstruck, as if she was hearing something that couldn’t be possible. I once thought the same thing.
“Don’t worry about it, just worry about coming on my dick,” I whispered as I drew her in for a kiss. I thrust, letting her ride out her shock while still dangling her over the edge.
“I’m going to be your wife?” she asked as she grinded against me.
“You’re going to be a Viglione, Giovanna,” I said before kissing her. I fisted her hair and pulled her lips off mine. “But if you don’t come now, you won’t come at all.”
My words made her spasm around me. She sat up, her long hair falling over her shoulders, and she rode me. I kept my hands on her hips, guiding her motions. She looked incredible, and I was going to come whether she did or not.
I groaned as I tried to fight it off, but it was happening. “I’m coming,” I said as I dug my hands into her hips.
“Me too,” she said through a moan as she came with me, hard as fuck. She clenched around me, drawing everything from my cock. I tugged her into me and wrapped my arms around her as a gravelly moan left my lips.
It was earth shattering.
The strength of her orgasm made mine stronger. It created a sensation I’d never felt in my life. Nothing even came close to the pleasure that coursed through me from her body.
She collapsed against my chest. Her skin was sticky with sweat. I reached over, opened a drawer, and felt around for what I wanted to give her. I pulled it out and closed my fingers around the metal. Giovanna looked up at me as I brushed her wet hair from her face. My hand reached for hers as I stared back at her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her breaths still laced with her orgasm.
“Making it official,” I said with a smirk as I slipped the large princess-cut diamond ring onto her finger. The delicate filigree around the band glistened with more diamonds. Her eyes snapped from me to the ring.
“You just had a ring lying around like that? Who else were you trying to marry, Enzo?” she asked with the smallest hint of serious accusation.
“Don't talk your shit while my cock is still inside you, Gia. It's my mother's ring. And you're the only person I would give it to.”
Her eyes rose back to mine, a smile stretching across her features. Her finger grazed the ring. She deserved even more than that, but my mother would have wanted this. Maybe not the whole marrying a Silvani part, but she would want the woman I would kill and die for to wear her ring.
We were both spent. The world disappeared around us as I listened to her heavy breaths. There was no looming death, no business, nothing but her and me. Nothing but an impending wedding—a forced truce as we merged our families.
Epilogue
Gia
Our officiant was not happy. He wasn’t the cheery man who married so many of our family and closest friends. Instead, his lips were tight and his brow furrowed. He brushed a hand through his white hair before he began.
My eyes scanned the rows of seats. My family was on one side, and the dwindling Vigliones sat on the other. His brother was well dressed and had a hint of a smile on his face. Sammy forgave Enzo. After everyone had the chance to cool down, it was as if nothing had ever happened. But Sammy was easier to befriend without Marco around. We weren't there yet, but we were getting there. I recognized his business partners and his friends; they’d taken the seats vacated by the missing members of his family. My gaze landed on my father. He was less angry looking than the officiant, who was bitter about the union. He had been on our books for my entire life. He married my parents, for Christ’s sake.
There was such a mix of expressions in the crowd, and I expected it. I knew our families wouldn’t merge without flaws. I knew I wouldn’t be accepted right away as a Viglione. I needed to be okay with it. I could worm into their hearts if they gave me the chance. Until then, I’d deal with the harsh stares and hushed words when I was around.
“Yada, yada, husband and wife. You can kiss,” the officiant said.
I smirked at him. I appreciated him for tying a knot that shouldn’t have been tied. Not in this lifetime. Even if he couldn’t hold back the distaste, he’d married us.
I looked at Enzo, in his rich black suit, freshly pressed, with a purple dress shirt underneath. A dark tie draped over his chest. He looked so goddamn handsome. My breasts, raised by the corset of my wedding dress, drew his gaze. He kept his hands in front of his lap, and I knew why. The moment we left the church and got home, he’d tear that dress off me.
He stepped into me and wrapped me up in his arms. He kissed me hard and passionately in a possessive show of ownership that I welcomed. The officiant groaned beside us—an audible sound of disgust that made us smirk.
We pulled away from our kiss, and I turned back to the crowd. My father was standing, his lip quivering, fighting a smile on his face. He motioned me toward him. I let go of Enzo’s hand and ran to my father, letting him embrace me.
“You look so beautiful, Giovanna.” His eyes were glassy. “Enzo looks alright, too,” he said as Enzo came up beside me.
