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Suddenly, Alessandro pulls his hand away and raises his head. I whimper at the loss of contact.
“If you want to come, you’ll do it on my cock.”
He moves over me, positioning himself between my legs. The head of his cock nudges my entrance.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,dolcezza.”
He pushes inside me, but not all the way. It feels strange. He played with me before, but his fingers couldn’t have prepared me for this intrusion. I hold my breath as he presses forward. There’s a pinching sensation, but it’s not as bad as I feared. Heseats himself fully inside me. The tension in his face tells me it’s agony for him to hold still.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Can I move?”
I nod, loving that he checked. “I might die if you don’t.”
Alessandro laughs, a deep throaty sound that rumbles up from his chest. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”
He withdraws a little and slides back in. It burns but isn’t too painful. Alessandro establishes a slow, steady rhythm, allowing me to become accustomed to the way our bodies are joined. I move my hips to meet his thrusts, bringing him deeper into my welcoming channel.
“More,” I urge Alessandro.
I don’t need to ask him twice. He immediately picks up the pace, slamming into me so hard the breath is forced from my lungs. He raises himself up on the palms of his hands and lifts my legs up over his shoulders. At this angle, his cock brushes against my clit with every stroke. The tiny bud pulses furiously as Alessandro drives into me as if determined to make an indelible mark on my soul. He fucks me ruthlessly. It hurts, but in a good way. I never understood before how pain and pleasure could play off each other to create the most incredible sensations.
My head thrashes from side to side, and I clutch the sheets as the ripple of ecstasy swells to build the most intense pressure inside me. The need for release from this torment becomes overwhelming, but I can’t quite get there. I whimper and moan as Alessandro plows into me.
“You’re so fucking perfect for me,” he grits out. “Such a good girl taking my cock.”
If it’s possible, his words make me even wetter. He changes our position, lowering my legs to the bed. I absently wonder if I should do something rather than allowing him to move me around like a puppet, but that thought evaporates as he reaches between us and pinches my clit between his forefinger and thumb.
“Alessandro!” I cry out as my hips buck off the bed.
My pussy clenches around him, and I feel his cock pulsing inside me. Warmth fills my tight channel as he spills his seed inside me. Alessandro gathers me into his arms and holds me tight as intense pleasure washes over me. It’s a lot to deal with and I’m grateful he’s there to catch me.
As my heart rate slowly returns to normal and the trembling in my limbs calms, Alessandro carefully pulls out of me. He kisses my forehead and rolls onto his back beside me. I glance up at him as he gathers me close and try to read his expression. I want to ask him if that was good for him but worry about revealing my insecurities.
“Are you okay?” Alessandro asks.
“Si, marito.” I’ve been fluent in English since I was a small child, but right now I can’t summon any words.
Alessandro chuckles, a sound I hope to hear from him often. I like this softer, gentler side of a man who I’m sure is more used to violence.
“I hope I haven’t broken you,dolcezza.” He drops another kiss on my forehead. “Because I have no intention of sending you back—ever.”
Smiling, I snuggle closer to him. I must be experiencing some sort of post-sex brain fog, because in this moment, I never want to leave this bed again.
CHAPTER 9
Alessandro
When I was growing up, my father never once forgot my mother’s birthday or their wedding anniversary. No matter what shit he had to deal with, he always remembered to buy her a special gift, some dazzling piece of jewelry, or a painting to add to her collection of landscapes. He even bought her flowers and champagne every year to commemorate their first date.
Though he was an asshole in many regards, Marco Volante firmly believed in the importance of family and he treated my mother like a queen. He understood the vital role she played in holding things together at home while he took care of business. His dedication to ensuring his wife was kept happy makes me feel like an even biggerstronzothis morning. Though I knew weeks in advance that Emilia would turn twenty-one today, I haven’t bought her a gift.
I try to tell myself it’s because I had no clue what a woman I’d never met before would like. That’s bullshit. Even a generic bunch of flowers and some chocolates would have shown her I’dthought about her. It’s more likely I didn’t buy her a gift because I didn’t want her to read too much into the gesture and think I harbored romantic feelings for her. As I look down at my new bride, I regret that. She deserves to be spoiled. Not only is she incredibly beautiful, she’s also gentle and kind, but spirited at the same time.
Her face is serene as she slumbers. She’s peaceful now, but she was restless during the night. It took her a long time to get comfortable, a consequence of being unused to sleeping with a man by her side. When she finally fell asleep, it was fitful at first. She cried out a couple of times but settled when I stroked her hair. My heart tugs as I think about what she’s been through, losing her grandfather and being pushed into marrying me. It’s not like me to be compassionate, but I resolve to take the best care of her I can.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand next to me. I pick it up and read a message from Stefan, who traveled here last night to oversee security, telling me there’s a delivery at the gate. Immediately, my body tenses. I’m not expecting a package today.
Moving quietly to ensure I don’t wake Emilia, I get out of bed and pull on a pair of black sweatpants. Then I step out into the hallway and call Stefan. As usual, he answers immediately.
