Corey
I lie in bed and watch my drool-worthy fiance knot his expensive silk tie. He’s already showered and dressed in another fine Italian suit, ready to slay it at running the Bellissimo, Vegas’ most elite and profitable hotel and casino.
His phone buzzes on the bedside table and I pick it up.
There’s a text message from someone named Desiree.
Any kind of food is fine with me–whatever’s easiest for you.
“Who’s Desiree?” I snap the words out before I can take a minute to think. To dial back my automatic alpha response to any female in Stefano’s sphere.
He quirks a brow, walking over to grab the phone. “My new fiancée.” His word are a dry rebuke of my lack of trust. My jealousy struck a nerve.
I wince.
“We’re getting married this afternoon in the upper ballroom.”
Realization hits me like a brick to the head. I’m an idiot. “Junior’s fiancée.”
His oldest brother texted last night to say the whole family was flying in today for a wedding–Junior’s wedding. He and his pregnant girlfriend decided to elope in Vegas. Trouble is, Junior’s version of elope means the full wedding package including a red carpet.
Which I get. I mean, it is easy for Nico and Stefano to put the Bellissimo staff on the project and make something incredible happen with no notice. But Junior, as the de facto head of the Tacone Family–yes, that’s family with a capital F–makes a habit out of snapping his fingers and expecting everyone to jump. I remember when he decided last minute that Stefano needed to throw Nico a bachelor party. He flew the entire outfit out for it with one day’s notice. I got pulled into dealing cards for it and Stefano punched a guy in the face for hitting on me.
I’m not the only one with a jealous streak.
Stefano snatches the phone from my hand and pushes me onto my back, climbing over me. I’m still naked from our love-making last night, and he’s fully clothed–a power play he loves to pull with me.
“Yeah, Junior’s fiancée.” He bites my ear. “The one who decided to marry my brother.”
There’s a note of reprimand I don’t miss. I’ve been wearing Stefano’s engagement ring for five months now, but have stalled any attempts he’s made to talk about the actual wedding.
“You know what I think, bella?” He grabs my wrist and stretches it toward the corner of the bed as he tugs off his tie with the other hand.
“What?” I watch, growing breathless because I guess his intent.
Yep.
He wraps the tie around the bedpost, securing my wrist to it.
Just like our first night together, only his tie is softer than the plastic zip tie he used then when he needed to keep me close to him after I’d witnessed a murder.
He finishes securing my right wrist and pulls my left hand over, grabbing one of my stockings from the floor and using it to tie me up. “I think I deserve a little more trust from you.”
I tug on the bonds, just because I like to struggle.
I resist, he conquers.
He’s a rough, demanding lover but I make him work for it.
He climbs down between my legs and pushes them apart, then licks into me.
I choke on a moan, hips jacking off the bed. “I trust you, Stefano.”
“Hmm.” It’s a doubtful sound. He slides his hands under to cup my ass, squeezing and kneading as he torments my sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue. He traces my inner lips, flicks over my clit. Making his tongue wide and flat, he licks the length of my slit, then affixes his lips over my clit and sucks as he penetrates me with one finger.
When he comes off, his lips are glossy with my juices. “I’m yours, bambina. I live to service this hot-as-fuck body of yours.”
I squirm, because he’s using two fingers to penetrate me now, slipping them in and out and stroking my G-spot.
He pulls his fingers out and slaps my pussy. “Trouble is, I’m not sure you’ve fully accepted my claim on you, yet.” He pussy-spanks me again, then moves up to pinch my nipple between his thumb and forefinger while he flicks his tongue over my left nipple and strokes between my legs.
I arch into his mouth. “I have,” I pant. “I have.”
“Marry me.” There’s a challenge in his voice.
I hate the way I shrink from it.
I love Stefano. With my whole heart. I don’t know what’s holding me back, except my fear I’ll fail at marriage. That he’ll fall out of love with me. Or he’ll turn mean, like my dad did. Or I’ll somehow mess it up.
Stefano notes my hesitation and his eyes narrow. “I think if you’re so worried about a woman texting me, bambina, you’d be wise to seal the deal, yourself.”
He climbs off me, leaving me hot, flushed and desperately alone.
Frustration makes me cranky. “Are you saying I have something to worry about if I don’t marry you soon, Stefano?”
He slaps my breast and I gasp. “Don’t twist it around on me, amore. I won’t stray. But you’re not sure of me. And you should be.” He climbs off the bed and strolls to the dresser, where he retrieves a fancy vibrator–the rabbit kind with the clit tickler attachment.
My hips roll on the bed; I’m desperate for satisfaction.
Stefano picks up my ankles and pulls them up toward my head, rolling my ass up to face him. He delivers a flurry of stinging spanks. Each one drives me closer toward orgasm. I’m growing feverish with need. He doesn’t stop until I’m whimpering and panting.
“Do you remember what you told me when you put on that engagement ring, cuore mio?” He turns on the vibrator and teases my entrance with it.
Shame tugs at my chest. I remember. Stefano gave me the huge pink diamond. He said he couldn’t let a woman take a bullet for him without wearing his ring. He wasn’t sure if I’d accept it, but I did. After believing we were over and nearly losing him to my father’s gun, I was ready to plant my flag firmly in his turf.
“I said–” I pant, undulating my hips. “I said I was done playing safe.”
He penetrates me with the vibrator, shoving it in until the attachment hits my clit. I squeal at the sensation–both too intense and satisfying at once. I close my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me.
When I open my eyes, I find Stefano’s dark gaze boring through me. There’s heat in it, but something deeper–an intensity that unsettles me.
“So what happened since then?” he demands.
Stefano
My cock throbs as I stare down at my beautiful fiancee, red hair fanned out on the pillow, naked and trussed to the bed, writhing with need as the vibrator does its work.
I should back off. This is the same way I strong-armed Corey into moving in with me. Sexual torture. Rough sex. A spanking. In the end she agreed.
Maybe she just needs to be pushed. She likes to resist. Likes to be forced against her will, because then she can’t be held responsible for the results.
But do I really want to coerce her into marrying me? Isn’t that going too far?
She told me was ready when she put on my ring.
I should’ve dragged her off to an Elvis chapel that day.
Because her resistance has crept back in since then, and now she’s afraid again.
I get it. Her parents’ marriage wasn’t happy. Her dad was a dick who abused then abandoned his family. And Corey has to live with the fact that I pulled the trigger on the weapon that killed him.
“Stefano, please,” she moans. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy. I turn the vibrator off, remove it and slap her pussy.
“You think you deserve to come, bella?”
“Yes,” she pants. “Please.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. This is still punishment, baby.”
I go back to the dresser and pull open the top drawer where I keep every variety of sex toy imaginable. I come back with a leather slapper and lube. I take my time unbuttoning my cuffs and rolling up my sleeves while she watches, wild-eyed and desperate.
I grasp her ankles in one hand and pull them toward the ceiling. I glance up at it. “I should install a hook up there, shouldn’t I? Then I could simply string your legs up when I want to turn this ass pink.”
She tries to kick out of my grasp and bring the leather slapper down across the middle of her ass. Her position gives me perfect access to her most vulnerable parts–pussy splayed open, lower ass and backs of the thighs begging to be spanked. The paddle is thin and flexible. Lighter and sweeter than my palm unless I wield it with force. I don’t. I just use it to kiss her ass, produce a light burn and turn her alabaster skin pink.
She moans and wriggles and watches me with excitement.
I love this woman. She’s the match to me in so many ways. Unlike her sweet girl-next-door cousin who married my brother, she’s a fighter. Strong and resilient, she doesn’t submit easily, but when she does, it’s all the sweeter. Her trust was hard to win, and hell, I’m still working at claiming it.
I lower her ass to a pillow I shoved under her hips and push her knees wide. I wedge my thumb between her cheeks, going right for her asshole.
She jerks against my firm touch as I flip the lid off the tube of with the other hand.
“You want your ass fucked?”
Her head bobbles around, the direction indistinct.
“You’re getting your ass fucked,” I clarify. “That’s what you get for not believing in me.”
“I do believe in you,” she says quickly.
I already know she’s sorry.
Hell, I don’t blame her for a little jealousy. I can’t fucking stand when men drool all over her. That’s why I won’t let her work as a croupier anymore.
But this seems like a symptom of something larger. She may trust me, but she doesn’t quite believe in us.
Not enough to seal the deal.
And fucking her ass is probably not the way to get here, but we’ve never been a conventional couple. Our relationship started with me keeping her prisoner in my room, which is actually better than how Nico started with her cousin–by pointing a gun at her head because he was too delirious from insomnia to realize she was a legit chambermaid.
I free my erection and fist it, yanking my hand down the length roughly watching Corey’s entranced gaze. “You want this cock, baby?”
She licks her lips. “Yes. Yes, please.”
I can’t resist. I climb up and spear into her pussy, shuddering with the pleasure of her moist heat.
“Yes, yes, Stefano.” She wraps her legs around my waist and hooks her ankles behind.
My eyes roll back in my head as I fuck her a few times hard. So good. So right. We were made for each other, Corey and I. And I’m going to make her see it, even if it takes the rest of my life.
I pull out and she whines her disappointment. I tsk. “You knew I wasn’t going to let you come that way, didn’t you, baby?”
I rub a generous amount of lube over my cock and reposition it against her anus.
She tightens reflexively and I shake my head, arching a stern brow.
“Show me your trust.”
She lets out a gust of breath in a low chuckle. “Bastard,” she mutters, but relaxes, closing her eyes like it takes all her concentration.
I press gently waiting until she meets me with a little pressure to get in. “Good girl.”
I fit my thumb in her pussy, using the palm of my hand to rub her clit as I ease slowly into her ass.
She lets out sweet little sounds–moans but higher pitched. I sink deeper until I’m fully seated and wait a few minutes for her to get used to being stretched. After a few seconds her eyes seek mine and she nods.
I ease back and sink in again, filling her. I find the vibrator on the bed and start it up, use the tip against her clit.
Her moans get louder, more insistent.
I rock my hips, then lose the vibrator when my own needs becomes too insistent. I grab her thighs and hold her in place to thrust deep, deeper.
“Please, Stefano, please,” she chants, her head thrown back in what appears to be a combination of anguish and ecstasy.
“Now, baby. Come.” I marshall my concentration enough to bring my thumb to her clit and rub hard, just before I climax. With a roar, I spend inside her.
When my head clears, I ease out and untie her wrists, then head to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean her up.
When I turn around, she’s coming right for me. Her body hits mine, arms wrap around my waist.
I hold her tight in the circle of my arms, dropping kisses into her hair. “It’s all right, baby. Everything’s all right.”
She nods against my chest and I feel her back shudder on a sob. “Let’s get married,” she says into my shirt. “Fuck Junior. Let’s make it our wedding, too.”
Corey
My body trembles from the crazy sex and my chest feels like it’s been cracked open.
I’m spilling out from the seams.
But that’s what love is, right? That’s trust. Vulnerability.
I can’t seem to get close enough to Stefano right now. Fortunately, he seems to know it. He holds me against him like there’s some danger of losing me. Like any minute someone might come and try to wrest me away.
And that’s on me. I’ve held myself back, trying to sneak my walls back up when he wasn’t paying attention. Trying to create distance between us.
I’ve been afraid.
But the fear of losing the man I love shouldn’t cause me to pull away. To reject our happily ever after. That’s the most backwards logic on the face of the Earth.
Of course fear doesn’t think. It’s just the insidious autoresponder that makes me act like an idiot.
Stefano cups my nape and gently pries my face from his chest. “You wanna crash their wedding with our own?” His grin is ear-to-ear wide and I have to celebrate the things it does to my chest.
I nod up at him, allowing myself to drink in his happiness, this sense of free-falling freedom. “Yes. Will Junior be mad?”
“Fuck if I care,” Stefano says without a moment’s hesitation.
“What about his bride? I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with my future sister-in-law.”
He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “She seems easy-going. I have her phone number, as you know. We can text her.”
My heart pitter-patters faster than normal. I draw in a shaky breath. “Are we really doing this?”
Stefano’s deep chuckle rumbles through me. Vibrational pleasure. “It’s a done deal, bella. I’m making you my wife today and there’s nothing on this planet that could stop me.”
“Do I need a dress?”
His smile grows even wider. “Let’s go shopping, cuore mio. We’ll buy you whatever you want to get married in–a dress. A bikini top. A pair of jean shorts. I don’t give a shit what you wear. I just want you willing. That’s all.”
I lean against his warm body, my naked flesh rubbing over his suit. “I’m willing, Stefano. I’m sorry I got scared there for a little bit. I’m ready now.”
Stefano claims my mouth, holding the back of my head captive for a brutal kiss. His tongue sweeps between my teeth and he schools me with it, showing me who’s boss, who makes the rules. Who loves me.
When he breaks it, I rub my swollen lips together and and smile up at him. “Can we fly my mom out in time?”
Stefano pulls his phone from his pocket. “I’m on it, baby. Anyone else?”
“No. Just you.”
He winks. “You’ve got me. But you’d better already know that.”
I smile. “I do.”
He flashes a GQ-worthy grin. “Now those are the words I’ve been waiting to hear.”
