His words are my undoing. I shatter in his arms, my body convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me. Silvo follows me over the edge, his own release pulsing deep inside me as he groans my name.
I collapse against his chest, my body spent and sated. Silvo’s arms wrap around me, holding me close as we both struggle to catch our breath.
In that moment, the reality hits me. I just had sex with my husband in the back of a car. But somehow, it doesn’t feel reckless or wrong—it feels inevitable. Like this is exactly where we were always meant to end up.
Silvo presses a tender kiss to my temple, murmuring words of praise and affection. I can’t bring myself to regret it.
As I slowly extract myself from Silvo’s embrace, I can’t help the satisfied grin that spreads across my face. He watches me with hooded eyes, looking utterly debauched and thoroughly satisfied.
I straighten my dress, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. “What?” I demand, arching a brow.
Silvo shakes his head slowly, a lazy smirk curving his lips. “Nothing,querida. Just admiring the view.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. But I can’t deny the thrill that shoots through me at his words. “You’re ridiculous,” I mutter, even as my cheeks flush.
“Maybe,” he allows, his eyes dancing with mirth. “But you love it.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he silences me with a scorching kiss, leaving me breathless and dazed.
“Shall we go home, wife?” he purrs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.
I swallow hard, my body still thrumming with desire. “Whatever you say, husband.”
As the car glides through the city streets, I find myself pressed against Silvo’s side, my head pillowed on his broad shoulder. His arm is a solid and reassuring weight around me.
Despite the lingering ache between my thighs, I’ve never felt more content. Silvo presses a kiss to my temple, and I can’t help but snuggle closer, basking in his warmth.
In this moment, it’s easy to forget the circumstances that brought us together. The bitterness and resentment have melted away, replaced by a connection so raw and visceral that it steals my breath.
I know this fragile peace can’t last forever. The reality of our situation will inevitably come crashing back down around us. But for now, I allow myself to get lost in Silvo’s embrace, savoring the sweetness of our twisted passion.
As the city lights blur past the tinted windows, I tilt my head up and capture Silvo’s lips in a slow, languid kiss. He responds eagerly, his fingers tangling in my hair.
When we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine, his eyes burning with an intensity that sends my heart racing.
“You’re mine,mialma,” he murmurs. “Mine, Carmela. No one else’s.”
I shiver at the possessive promise in his voice. But instead of fear, I feel only a bone-deep sense of rightness.
As Silvo presses a tender kiss to my temple, murmuring words of praise and affection, I can’t bring myself to regret it. Maybe this arranged marriage won’t be so bad after all.
15
CARMELA
Iwake with a groan, my head throbbing and a delicious ache between my thighs. Memories of last night flood back—the poker game, the wine, the frenzied passion in the back of the car. Heat rushes through me at the memories.
I sit up gingerly, the silk sheets pooling around my waist. The bed beside me is empty, and I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed by Silvo’s absence. Part of me wants to see him, to gauge his reaction to what happened between us. But another part of me needs time to process these confusing feelings.
I drag myself out of bed, wincing at the soreness in my muscles. Evidence of our tryst is written all over my body—love bites on my neck, finger-shaped bruises on my hips. I feel marked, claimed in a way that makes my stomach twist.
I stumble into the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror. My hair is wild, my lips swollen, my skin flushed. I look thoroughly ravished, and despite my confusion about where we’re heading, I can’t deny the satisfaction curling through me.
I turn on the shower, cranking the heat up until the room fills with steam.
As I step under the scalding spray, I let the water cascade over me. But no matter how hot the water runs, I can’t washaway the memory of Silvo’s touch, the way he made me feel alive in a way I never have before.
I brace my hands against the cool tile, trying to sort through my tangled emotions. What the hell is happening to me? A month ago, I was furious about this arranged marriage. Now I’m craving his touch, anticipating his return, caring about his safety.
