“I could touch you and watch those pretty eyes lose focus for hours, but as it is, we’re running late for our own wedding,” he rasps, moving his thumb faster over my sensitive bud, stroking hard and fast until I’m shaking. He adds a second finger, sliding it inside me—just the tip, testing my tightness. The stretch makes me whimper. He leans forward and presses his mouth over mine, breathing in every gasped breath I exhale. “I want to see you come apart, Sofia.”
“Yes,” I moan, dropping my head to his shoulder as I rock forward to ride his thumb, desperate for more pressure, more friction, more of everything. At the back of my mind, I know I should probably try to keep it down—there are guards posted outside my door—but it's like I've lost control of my body. Of my senses.
He controls them all.
“Come for me,tesoro mio,” he whispers. His finger curls inside me, finding a spot that makes me cry out. "Let me feel you clench around my fingers."
The orgasm crashes through me like a tsunami, tearing through me with such violence that I cling to the stranger I amabout to wed. I bury my face in his shoulder, drowning in his scent as my sex clenches and pulsates fiercely around his fingers, my body milking the sensation. Waves of pleasure roll through my body as flashes of white threaten to blind me.
It’s too much.
And it’s perfect. That deep voice, urging me forward, and those long fingers set on driving me to madness. They’re all perfect.
I’m panting when I flop against him, my body shaking from the climax. I nuzzle his neck, content to spend the rest of the day soaking in his scent and warmth. Losing myself in those strong arms.
“Ten minutes,” he whispers into my ear. “That’s how much time we have left before the wedding starts.”
His words snap me back to reality. I sit up, horrified by what just happened, embarrassed by my reaction to it all. “Oh God,” I cry out, jumping off the dresser and turning to the mirror. My lipstick is smudged, and my hair looks a little mussed. My cheeks burn as I work to fix my hair, and the blush deepens when Matteo moves to straighten the dress for me.
I allow myself a glance at the man. So tall. So domineering and sexy. That mouth… I loved the way it felt on mine.
“You’re not thinking of running, are you?”
I gasp when he brings his finger to his mouth and licks at the wetness sticking to it. I quickly tear my eyes away from his reflection and search the dresser for my lipstick.
“If you are still thinking of running, don’t. I’ll just find you and bring you back to me.” A shudder runs down my body when he leans forward and brushes his mouth over my bare shoulder.“Today, you become my wife. See you in ten minutes, I’ll be waiting,tesoro mio. Don’t be late.”
And then he’s gone.
The lipstick drops from my trembling fingers when the door shuts behind the man. I turn to stare at the girl staring back at me. Confused and fiercely aroused. Clearly frustrated by both emotions.
Today, you become my wife.
I can’t help but wonder if those last words were meant as a threat—or a promise.
Chapter Four
Matteo
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife!”
I’ve never given much thought to marriage or the woman I would vow my devotion to. Least of all, the ceremony that would bind us together. Hell, I half expected today to be a total waste of time. Would have opted for a courthouse ceremony to wrap things up if my father hadn't been firm on a church wedding.
It’s what your mother would have wanted.
The man always knows the right buttons to push. My mother meant the world to my brothers and me. Family, she always insisted, was the most important thing in the world. She was a devout Catholic; hence the reason I didn't put up much of a fight when my father insisted on holding the ceremony in a church. Heaven knows none of the Rossi boys deserve to set foot in any place considered remotely holy.
Still, I went along with it. Expected the whole deal to be boring.
I was wrong.
I couldn't take my eyes off my pretty bride long enough to focus on whatever was happening around us. I could still taste her on my lips. The sweet tanginess of her arousal clung to mytaste buds as the priest droned on and on about the sanctity of marriage.
Hours later, with a shiny gold band on my ring finger, dancing to some boring wedding song, and I still can't take my eyes off her. Sofia Marino… no, Sofia Rossi is a beauty. With or without the white gown, she’s quite easily the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The emerald resting on her collarbone shines as bright as her eyes. So beautiful…
And mine.
I keep my hand on the small of her waist as we dance, the silk of her dress brushing against my legs as we glide on the polished floor. My eyes stay locked on hers as they've been from the moment she walked down the aisle toward me.
