Page 29 of His to Wed
Pulse racing, I spin around and get in position. Alessandro comes to stand behind me. He slips his hand between my legs.
“You’re wet,dolcezza, drenched. Did sucking my cock turn you on?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I murmur since, apparently, it did.
Alessandro grabs my hips and impales me with his cock. The brutal penetration stings and I cry out, but I forget the pain as he starts to move. The friction of his cock rubbing against my tender flesh creates a ripple of pleasure that reaches deep inside me. I push my hips back to meet his thrusts as he fucks me with ruthless determination.
“Such a good girl, taking your husband’s cock.” There’s no mistaking the possessiveness in his tone. “Who owns this tight little cunt?”
I flinch at his crudeness. I’ve never cared for the c-word.
“Who, Emilia?” he demands.
There’s no sense in playing games and denying the inescapable truth of my situation. “You do.”
“And who am I?” He curves a hand around my throat and pulls me back against him as he drives his cock into my welcoming body.
“Alessandro,” I cry out. It’s not the answer he wanted. He squeezes my throat, not to the point where he’s cutting off air,but enough to send my heart rate rocketing with fear. “My husband.”
“That’s right, Emilia.Yourhusband.”
He’s making a point. He’s mine and I don’t have to worry about him with other women. Somehow, that thought ignites the lust already flowing in my veins until my entire body burns with desire. Can I really possess this man the way he already owns me?
Alessandro slides his hand down from my throat to curve around my breast as he continues to pound into my body. My pussy clenches and my vision blurs. I cry out as the dam bursts. To my surprise, fluid gushes from me as my limbs tremble and my womb clenches. A moment later, Alessandro’s hips jerk.
“Emilia!” he barks out as he comes inside me, his release as violent as his claiming of my body.
He loosens his grip on me and I slump forward onto the massage table. Alessandro pulls out of me. As his cum trickles down my inner thigh, he drops down beside me, resting his head next to mine. He brushes the hair back from my face and smiles.
“Remind me to thank my sister.”
It’s an odd thing to say at such an intimate moment. My brow creases in confusion. “For what?”
“Gifting us the best couple’s massage ever.” Alessandro looks adorably boyish when he grins. It reminds me of the flirtatious beach bum I thought he was when I first laid eyes on him back at my uncle’s hotel. He straightens up and rubs my back, between my shoulder blades. “Come on,dolcezza. Let’s get dressed and get out of here. We’ve got some shopping to do.”
CHAPTER 11
Alessandro
There’s a pensive frown on Emilia’s face as we drive back toward the mansion after a successful shopping trip in Westport’s most exclusive boutiques. It’s been a long day, but one I found enjoyable. Normally, I hate buying clothes, preferring to leave it to personal shoppers to select a suitable wardrobe for me, but watching Emilia dismiss offers of assistance so she could rummage through the clothing racks on her own was fun. She seemed to have a good time, too, especially when I fucked her against the wall of a changing cubicle. Like a good girl, she came all over my cock.
Since we got back to the car, however, she’s been withdrawn. Staring out of the window, she seems to be in a world of her own.
“What’s the matter,dolcezza?”
She glances toward Tomaso, who’s driving us today. Getting the message that she doesn’t want to talk in front of one of my men, I raise the privacy screen and turn my body fully toward her.
“Did you not enjoy yourself today?”
“I did.” She clasps her hands together and places them on her lap. “You were very generous.”
“You’re my wife. It’s my duty to ensure you have nice things.”
I reach over and grab her hand as her lips purse in obvious displeasure at my pronouncement. Her grandfather did warn Antonio she has an independent streak. Perhaps she doesn’t like the idea of having a man taking care of all her needs. It’s tough shit if she doesn’t. Clothes, jewels, expensive spa days. My wife will take whatever the hell I decide she should have.
“There’s obviously something bothering you, Emilia. I want to know what it is.”
Her cheeks redden, a sure sign that whatever the issue is, it’s a personal one. I’ve learned already that my bride is not comfortable discussing intimate matters.
