Chapter 9
Mia
My brain has ceased to work properly.
Apparently, all I need is for Santino to hold my hand, kiss the gorgeous wedding rings he slipped on my finger, brush his fingers over my cheek, and then, oh yeah, kiss me senseless, in order for me to become a puddle of incoherent thoughts.
Alright, so maybe it was the kiss that rendered me brainless and has my legs unstable as I walk back down the aisle. I just made this path a few minutes ago as a single woman, and now I’m doing it on the arm of my husband.
I’m married.
I’m a bride.
I’m a wife.
I’m Mia Antonucci now.
My brain starts to piece itself back together around the end of the aisle, having completely ignored the people clapping for us as we pass them.
They don’t know what they’re applauding. Or, maybe they do, and that makes this so much worse.
I already am trying to ignore the fact that for a moment as I was walking towards Santino and our eyes were locked, it felt like it wasn’t going to be hard to marry him. I was willingly walking towards him rather than thinking of all the ways I can run, ruin him, or kill him in his sleep so I can be done with this farce.
I’m insane.
I’m insane and need a therapist if I thought for even a moment that marrying Santino and getting to kiss him again was a pleasant thought.
Although, there have to be worse things than actually wanting to kiss my husband, right? He could be completely repulsive and make my skin crawl when he touches me rather than flush with heat and leave me with goosebumps.
But desiring Santino’s touch isn’t a good thing, either.
I don’t want to want him.
He saw me and decided I was going to be his whether I agreed or not. He obviously assumed I’d be so charmed by an older handsome man with power and a cocky attitude that can only come from an abundance of well-deserved confidence. I never aspired to marry a powerful man, though. My family already has all the power and influence we need, and Santino should know I won’t fall on my knees for a taste of something I already possess.
If anything, marrying him is a downgrade.
He tricked me and he played me, and I hate how much I loved everything he did to me in the club. I hate how alive I felt at the thought of fucking over my new husband, and when it turned out Santino was one step ahead of me all along, I’ve felt nothing short of a fool. But Santino doesn’t own me just because we’re married now. I’m going to turn the tables on him and make him beg for me. He’s going to be dropping to his knees for a taste of my power.
With my new resolve, I look up at my husband, taking in his fine, chiseled features, and think of all the ways I’m going to torture him until he’s begging for a taste of me.
Starting tonight.
I’ll make sure he gets a good eyeful of what I have on under my wedding dress. My dress that I’m so in love with. It has a structured corset bodice and is fitted all the way down to my knees where it flares out just the slightest to allow for the train that flows behind me a few feet. The entire dress is covered in pearls, creating lines, swirls, and patterns throughout that make me feel like I’m wearing both an elegant and a sexy dress.
The dress itself isn’t revealing, but the pearls add an indecent sexiness that gives me an unparalleled confidence I haven’t felt before. And under all these pearls I’m wearing a sexy white satin and lace lingerie set that was a gift from Aria and Gia this morning. They told me feeling sexy and confident would be my power play move against Santino, and I have to admit, I understand what they meant now.
* * * *
“Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome to the dance floor, the new Mr. and Mrs. Antonucci for their first dance,”
a member of the band announces, and Santino stands, holding his hand out for me to take.
As he leads me to the center of the dance floor, he says casually so only I can hear, “Do you think our first dance married will go as well as our previous first dance?”
I huff out a short laugh. “No, I don’t think it will. Unless you want to put on a show for everyone?”
Santino wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. “No one gets to see you like that but me, farfalla.”
The song begins and I let Santino take the lead, guiding me around the dance floor, making it seem like I know what I’m doing.
“You can dance,”
I say, stating the obvious. I’m surprised by how graceful he is. A word I never thought I’d associate with him.
Santino smiles down at me. “I can. I can do a lot of things you don’t know about, Mia. But you will.”
“I could say the same thing.”
“And you should. I intend to learn everything I can about you so that I can make sure you’re happy and taken care of in every way.”
“I don’t need taking care of,”
I say automatically, even though that sounds like a nice change.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to,”
he tells me, and that stupid part of me I need to keep buried flutters with hope that this could be real.
This isn’t real.
This is coercion, manipulation, and an exploitation of power.
“It still won’t change what we are.”
“And what are we?”
he asks, spinning me away from him and then pulling me back. I slam against his hard body and he holds me even closer than before, with his arm banded around my back like the bar on a rollercoaster – unyielding and will only release when the ride is over.
“Nothing,”
I breathe, my lungs collapsing under the pressure building in me.
“If we’re nothing, then why did I forget to breathe the second I saw you when those doors opened and you were walking towards me like a damned angel in white? If we’re nothing, then why do I know how soft your skin feels and how satisfying it is to see it break out into goosebumps when I touch you? If we’re nothing, then why do I know how sweet you taste and how beautiful you look when you come?”
“Santino,”
I whisper, unable to think straight as my heart is about to beat right out of my chest.
“If we’re nothing, then why do you melt for me when I kiss you? Why did my heart suddenly come alive the first time I saw you? If we’re nothing, then why have I carried your panties with me everywhere, every day, just so I could have you close these past two weeks when I knew I couldn’t have the real you with me?”
My eyes round in disbelief. “What?”
His smile is small and secretive. “Yes, farfalla, I’m a man obsessed. I’m a man who wants you so fucking badly, I’ve inhaled your scent and beat my cock raw every day. Multiple times a day. I’ve fantasized about every way I want to have you and how beautiful you’ll look under me, on top of me, screaming my name, choking on my cock, and soaking my cock as you squeeze me with your tight pussy.”
My core clenches and my steps falter, but Santino’s don’t. He just tightens his arm around me and keeps us dancing, not missing a beat.
“But I also want inside your brain, Mia. I want to know everything about you and everything you’re thinking. I know it’ll be beautiful when you finally let me see your eyes in full expression and not guarded.”
Staring into his eyes, I’m lost. He’s completely serious in everything he’s saying, and I’m lost in the depth of his brown eyes, warring with wanting what he’s saying and wanting to run out of here. I know my legs won’t carry me at the moment though, so I remain in Santino’s grasp until the song comes to an end.
He bends me backwards in a flourish of a dip and places a soft kiss to my cheek. “Another freebie,”
he whispers, pulling me back upright with that sexy little smirk he loves to wear gracing his all too inviting lips. “We’re far from nothing, my beautiful wife.”
Shit.
I’m in trouble.
* * * *
After dinner, Santino goes off to do his rounds of greetings and bullshitting with people around the room while I take a breath and watch everyone enjoying themselves. I’m glad he didn’t try to drag me along, because I don’t think I could pretend to be interested in anything they have to say for too long or know how I should act or what to say if they asked me too many questions.
I’m three glasses of champagne deep and staring at my new husband, wishing he wasn’t so damn good-looking. Like, really good-looking. As in, I could stare at him for hours and hours and never get tired of the view. Plus, I’m starting to wonder how he would look without that perfectly tailored tuxedo on. I’ve already felt how solid his body is through his clothes, and I’d bet everything I own he’s mouth-wateringly sexy with nothing on.
“If you keep staring at him like that, I’m going to start thinking you like your husband,”
Aria says, startling me out of my dangerous thoughts of a naked Santino.
I give her a sly, slightly tipsy smile. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
She laughs and smiles. “No, we most definitely wouldn’t.”
“But you can’t deny he’s nice to stare at. Especially when he’s not close enough to ruin the view with his arrogant assholeishness that seems to always come out of his mouth.”
Except when we were dancing, I add silently. A mix of sweet and dirty was coming from his mouth then.
“He does fill out that suit pretty well,”
she admits, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Don’t check out my husband so closely, Aria.”
Her eyes widen and she laughs again. “You say he’s nice to look at and now you’re possessive? You sure you don’t like him?”
“I’m sure.”
I tip my glass back and swallow the rest of the champagne in the flute.
“Are you ready to dance?” she asks.
“I don’t feel like celebrating.”
“You don’t have to be celebrating anything to dance, Mia. I don’t want you to waste the night away sitting here. Make some good memories with us.”
“Fine,”
I huff. “But I’ll need another glass of champagne.”
“Whatever the bride wants, she gets.”
Aria waves over one of the servers carrying a tray of fresh flutes and plucks off two. “Thank you,” she says to him, and then to me, “Now get your ass moving and make everyone see why Santino chose your sexy ass to marry.”
“Aria!”
I whisper yell.
“What?”
She shrugs, then laughs, looking down at her champagne flute. “So, maybe I’ve had a few vodka sodas before this and my filter is gone. But you can’t deny what I’m saying, and if you spend the night sitting alone at your table, then people will notice and they’ll assume things. I know you don’t want anyone talking about you or today in any way other than how gorgeous you were and how in love you and Santino seemed. Because, honey, that kiss?” She fans herself. “And the way you two were looking at each other during the ceremony? And your first dance? You’re either a great actress or–”
“Or what?”
I choke out after swallowing a sip of champagne, not wanting her to finish that thought. “Don’t even go there. Let’s dance.”
I practically run to the dance floor to escape further scrutiny and shove my way between Elena, Gia, Cassie, and Lexi, who all cheer when I join them.
“Finally!”
Cassie shouts, grabbing my hand. “I was about to drag you out here if you didn’t come soon.” She lifts my hand and spins me around like a ballerina just as the song the band was playing comes to an end. But as soon as the next one starts, I squeal.
“I love this song!”
Robin S’s “Show Me Love”
is one of two songs that can get me dancing without fail. The other being Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)”. Both are even better to sing and dance to when you’re surrounded by your girls.
This song is quite fitting, too.
But do I really want Santino to show me love? I wanted him to show me something these past two weeks, but he left me alone. I fully expected him to show up at my door or…I don’t know really, just something.
But why?
Why do I even care?
GAHHH! I yell at myself internally.
Fuck it!
Fuck him!
I close my eyes and sing the lyrics with my family like I don’t have a care in the world. Because in this moment, I don’t.