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“So, what happens now?” I ask when I find my voice.
“Now, my dear wife, we head to Connecticut for a brief honeymoon.”
“We’re leaving straight away?”
“Why?” Alessandro puts a finger beneath my chin and tilts my face toward him. “Were you hoping to hang out here to eat cake and drink champagne?”
His mocking tone sets my teeth on edge, but I maintain my composure.
“That would be customary, would it not?”
Alessandro flashes a feral grin. “There’s only one wedding custom I’m interested in.”
I gasp as he grabs my wrist and tugs me toward the door. What is he doing? Does he mean to claim my body now? The thought is as exciting as it is frightening. Now that I’ve had a taste of what he can offer me I want more, but I’m scared to give myself to him completely.
“Where are you taking me?” Nervousness assails me as we come out into the hallway and head for the front door.
“I told you we’d be going to Westport.”
“Oh, that’s… okay.”
Alessandro quirks an eyebrow. “What is it, Emilia? Did you think I was going to drag you to the nearest quiet corner and fuck you senseless?” He barks out a laugh. “Oh, my sweet bride, there will be plenty of that in our future, but tonight I want to take my time with you.”
The dark promise in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine. As he leads me out to a waiting Mercedes SUV, I can’t decide if he plans to take me to heaven or to hell.
CHAPTER 6
Alessandro
As Tomaso expertly maneuvers the car through heavy traffic to get to the interstate as quickly as possible, I make myself comfortable in the back seat. Removing my jacket, I lay it down next to me. Then I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and loosen the tie my mother insisted I wear. I hate the damned things. Having the top button of my shirt fastened, and a tie knotted around my neck, makes me feel like I’m being strangled. But my mother’s sad pout is my greatest weakness, so I wore it to make her happy.
She wanted everything to be perfect, so I allowed her to fill the ballroom with flowers and get all dolled up in her fancy new gown. I drew the line when she tried to organize a big lunch for after the ceremony. I’d rather have Emilia all to myself.
When Tomaso blasts the horn and spits out a curse, I sit up straighter, craning my neck to see what’s happening. Thankfully, it’s just some asshole who’s cut us off. As I relax, Emilia shifts restlessly on the seat next to me. I wonder if she’s uncomfortablein that big, puffy dress. It’s tough shit if she is. The dress looks every bit as stunning on her as I imagined it would, and I want to enjoy her in it for a while longer.
When the time comes to peel the gown off her, I intend to savor every moment. Just imagining the shy expression on her face as I strip the dress off, revealing her body one tantalizing inch at a time, makes me hard. What is it about being close to this woman that threatens my self-control? Right now, it’s the delicate scent on her skin that’s driving me wild. It’s something floral; camellias, I think.
I’m not sure how I’m going to hold off from dragging her under me on the seat and fucking her as we cruise along the I-95. It’s an urge I’ll have to stifle. Apart from the fact I’m sure Emilia is a virgin and deserves better, my mother would never forgive me if she found out I claimed my new bride’s body in the back of a Range Rover. She was quite forceful in expressing her expectations of how I would treat Emilia.
I turn in my seat to look at my stunning new bride. Sofia, who regularly does my mother’s and sister’s hair and makeup for events, did as I asked and allowed Emilia’s natural beauty to shine through. Her silky brown hair was left loose to fall over her bare shoulders and there’s a touch of red giving color to her Cupid’s bow lips.
As I stare at her, she tenses. She doesn’t enjoy being watched so closely.
“What did my mother talk to you about?” I ask.
Emilia’s cheeks redden. She clasps her hands together on her lap and focuses all of her attention on them.
“Emilia?”
She takes a deep breath, and when she eventually speaks, her voice is quiet.
“She told me she spoke to you about making tonight pleasurable for me.”
Though I guessed it was something like that, I’m surprised she didn’t lie. She could have claimed they were exchanging views on the floral arrangements, or her dress. Emilia’s honesty pleases me, especially since it’s obvious from her inability to look at me that it embarrassed her to reveal what they talked about. That conversation couldn’t have been as mortifying as my mother’s lecture to me was. She wanted to make clear what she believed my responsibilities as a husband are. Mamma can be persistent and I couldn’t extricate myself from the conversation without swearing on a dozen different saints that I would be good to my bride.
Mamma needn’t worry so much. I have every intention of treating Emilia well. I want her to gain pleasure from the things I do to her, to crave my touch, to fear she’ll wither and die without it.
“And did she say anything about you pleasing me?” I already know damned well she won’t have.
