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“This pussy is going to be my downfall,” he mutters in a tortured breath, stilling inside me while I get used to him. When he begins to move, the zings of pleasure are heavenly. I arch my back and buck into him. He grips my hips and slides, in and out, long and hard.
I want more.
More. More. More.It’s all I think about until he reaches around me and holds my throat in his large hand. My breath catches as his fingertips tighten.
Antonio leans forward and drops a small kiss on my ear. “Are you afraid?” he asks, like he hopes I’ll say yes.
“No,” I gasp. Although I am a little afraid. “Are you going to hurt me?”
He pulls his cock all the way out, then fills me with a long, brutal thrust. “Definitely,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “But not tonight.”
His free hand skates over my back and around to my belly, movinglower and lower until his fingers are stroking my clit.
“You’ve been such a good girl I think you need a reward.” He moves his fingers in quick, clever ways, his cock unrelenting. “You’re going to come nice and hard all over my dick.”
Antonio’s hand tightens around my throat, and I gasp for air as he pounds me with long, punishing strokes until my body tightens and bucks as the orgasm consumes me.
“Princesa,” he groans, in a prayer. “Princesa.”
His movements are jerky, desperate, and with a few agonizing thrusts, I feel the rumble of his release.
Antonio presses a kiss to the back of my neck and pulls out of me. I collapse on the bed, shivering. He gets up and returns with a soft blanket, draping it over my body.
“Do you need anything?” he asks, lying beside me and brushing the hair off my sweaty face.
“Stay with me,” I say, even though I’m in his bed. “Don’t leave tonight.”
“Sleep,Princesa. I’m here.” He brushes his lips over my forehead. “You’re safe.”
68
Daniela
When I awoke on Sunday, Antonio was gone without a goodbye. Not even a scribbled note or a hasty text.Nothing.It hurt, but as I reminded myself the entire day, it’s just sex to him. The sooner I get comfortable with the idea ofjust sex, the happier I’ll be.
I haven’t seen or spoken with him since. We’ve texted a few words here and there, mostly about wedding details. That’s it.
He’s been staying in the city, and Victor says he’s swamped, trying to take care of business before we leave on our trip. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll continue to spend nights in the city without me, after we’re married. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care about all of it.
“I have something to show you,” Nelia says, reaching into a tote bag that says,I Make Dreams Come True.
Nelia, the wedding planner Antonio hired, and I have been in the library for the last two hours, reviewing last-minute preparations. The wedding is less than two days away. Thirty-nine hours, to be precise.
At first, I had no interest in planning the ceremony or the reception. But after the Camellia Ball, it hit me that most of the wedding guests would be people who knew my parents, some who knew my grandparents. If for no other reason, I got involved to ensure that the wedding wasn’t some gaudy show.
Nelia hands me a small mesh bag with a few candied almonds. “It would be a nice touch to hand everyone a favor as they leave the church. All the extra security means lunch might be a bit delayed. Your guests will enjoy a little something to snack on if they missed breakfast. Since it’s spring, this seems perfect.”
I glance at the pastel nuts peeking through the white gauzy sacks. The cost of this wedding is starting to feel staggering. “Have you checked with Antonio?”
“Whenever I ask Antonio anything about the wedding, he tells me it’s up to you.”
I’m not surprised. Since my initial contact with Nelia, which went smoothly, he seems to defer to me on all things wedding related. Although the venue and the guest list were in place before I got involved.
Thesmall affairincludes three hundred guests. I was free to add to the list. But I didn’t.
The ceremony will take place at Santa Ana’s, and a luncheon will follow here, at his estate. Antonio put together a guest list that includes the mayor of Porto and the owners of all the port houses and their spouses, along with those who own the most prominent vineyards in the valley. People he does business with. Other thanSonia, relatives and friends are in very short supply.
But I suppose the guests reflect the occasion. After all, our marriage is nothing more than the sealing of a business deal, uniting a well-established port house and important vineyards.
