CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
MY HUSBAND KIDNAPPED ME
BIANCA
A s I stepped out of the bedroom, I released my grip on the brass doorknob. With a loud bang, the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind me. I hoped I rattled my husband awake if only for a moment for the stunt he pulled again. Crossing my arms tightly across my chest, I padded down the long hallway, my bare feet felt cold on the black marble floor.
The man infuriated me. I was shocked I was allowed to walk out of the bedroom wearing just his white dress shirt. Meaning I didn’t have on panties or a bra underneath. Did he have staff? And would they see me dressed like this? I meant. Did we have staff?
Shit. I shook my head. I wasn’t ready for this. My hand ran over my silk bonnet again.
The man put a bonnet on my head. I stomped my foot like a petulant child. He was a completely unhinged psychopath. “He fucking kidnapped me,” I couldn't help blurting out loud.
So what he thought about my hair. I continued my tour.
My eyes widened as I took in the vibrant, larger-than-life paintings adorning the walls of the grand hallway. On the opposite side, another sweeping staircase led up to the first floor. This wasn't just a house - it was a sprawling mansion that seemed to stretch on forever.
Bianca, you should take the wedding ring off.
Do it. He’ll force it back onto your finger. You’re his forever. That man will never let you go.
I continued down the path. That glass of vodka he offered me last night with a sexy smirk was how he sedated me. Probably after he left for work, I’d call my friends. They needed me in Chicago.
Your husband needs you here in your home .
It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see what the house looked like in person. Bianca, you wanted to come here and be with Catch, but you also wanted to be there for your best friends. The bitch Tyra is trying to kill us.
My friends had to be ok. My thoughts were whirling. After walking around every inch of the house worrying about the girls I ended up in the kitchen. I’d have to face my husband to get my phone.
My husband. A smile picked up at the corners of my lips. The way he pleased me last night. He stared at me like I was his world.
The smile wouldn’t go away. My stomach rumbled with hunger, and I instinctively placed a hand on it.
Upon opening the fridge, my eyes widened in surprise. There, arranged neatly at the front of the fridge, were all of my favorite breakfast foods: eggs, strawberries, sharp cheese, chicken sausage links, and a loaf of brioche bread. A card rested on top of everything, and when I picked it up, I saw that he had also gotten me my beloved fruit medley juice. It was the perfect drink for nerdy girls like me, especially when I needed to focus on a difficult task like hacking.
The name "Mrs. Rizzo" was elegantly written on the front of the card in cursive. I carefully opened it to reveal a message inside.
It read:
Hopefully, your favorite meal items can bring you happiness. There's plenty more food in the cabinets.
I need you here with me this week.
I love you,
Your husband
I could feel the love and concern behind these words.
My hand flew over my heart. This was so sweet.
“I see you found the food you love.” His deep voice bounced off the beautiful slate gray kitchen walls.
Don’t look at him, Bianca.
“Yes, thank you.”
His rubber soled boots sounded across the marble floor. He was moving closer.
“Catch, thank you for the food.” I closed the fridge and spun meeting his gaze.
Jesus, the man looked like he just stepped off a runway.
His blond locks were perfectly styled, with a few rebellious curls cascading onto his forehead. His beard was groomed to perfection. The fitted blue-gray suit accentuated his muscular build, and his black boots gleamed on his feet. As he nonchalantly slipped his hand into his pocket, the jacket of his suit revealed a holstered Glock.
“Bianca, you’re home where you belong. You will find a way to come home every other week,” he said, closing the space between us.
“Catch, you know we’re at war at ho-,” I started.
His hand left his pocket and gruffly rubbed his beard.
“Mrs. Rizzo, this is your home. I won’t tell you again.”
Trying to keep an argument from erupting I stated, “Back in Chicago where my friends and I have a war is where I need to return to.”
He roughly grabbed my face and brought his lips close to mine. “Where will you be the week after next?”
“Catch, we’re at war,” I spat.
“Bombshell,” he pushed.
I narrowed my eyes. “Would you like me to purchase a plane ticket and fly back to Jersey?” I replied sarcastically.
Catch bared his straight white teeth. If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. “The Pituccos own a fleet of private jets. The pilot will be at Midway airport to collect my wife the Friday after next at ten a.m. sharp. If you are not on that plane, Bianca...”
Shit, he was really upset, that was the third time he’s called me by my first name.
“I’ll tie you up and bring you home myself. Do you understand?” he gritted out.
Peering up at him, I stood on my tippy toes and jammed my finger into his chest. “You can’t keep kidnapping me.”
A smile took his sexy lips. “You don’t like it when I sedate you, get you dressed, cradle you in my arms and keep you with me? Because your fucking mine.”
I squeezed the hole between my legs because that bitch loved what he was saying.
“I’m not your possession, Catch.”
He snatched the bonnet off my head and tossed it onto the counter. His big hand found my hair, tugging my locks. “Are you wet, Bombshell?”
“What?” His question threw me off. “No.”
Gripping my hair harder, he slipped his fingers between my folds. A smile widened across his face. “Mrs. Rizzo lied to her husband. You’re soaked.”
He released me long enough to unleash his cock, before I could protest, he had my bare ass planted on the marble countertop.
“I’m going to fuck my wife now. When I get home from work, you better be ready to ride my dick.”
My palms rested on the counter. “Catch, I don’t want to fuck you,” I moaned.
He slid deep inside my walls and my body shivered giving me away. “Oh, shit.”
Catch opened the dress shirt I was wearing, pulling one of my globes free and sucking my pebbled nipple into his warm mouth.
“Mine,” he growled and bit it before releasing it.
“Ouch,” I grunted.
“You don’t want my cock but you’re sliding that good pussy back and forth like you need it.”
What was wrong with me? Did I secretly like being sedated and kidnapped by Catch?”
My fingers gripped his neck as he slammed deep inside my walls. My legs shook at his sides.
“Shut up, Catch and fuck me.”
He halted. “No.”
My eyes widened. “Catch?” I hissed.
His eyes narrowed. “Stop holding back and tell the fucking truth. Or I won’t let you come.”
My finger slid across his lower lip. “Fine. Fine. When you said you dressed me and carried me, I liked it.”
He chuckled. “It’s ok to admit that you like when I take care of you.”
I pressed my lips against his. “Callum, I do.” My fingers slipped through his curls. “Now fuck your wife.”
He dropped his pants around his ankles, gripped my thighs, and held my gaze. “Gladly. I want you thinking about my dick all day long.”
Catch plunged into my pussy and I let out a scream of pleasure. “Callum.”
He stroked faster and faster before pulling me off the counter and back down onto his dick in midair. Catch fucked me like I didn’t weigh more than a teddy bear. His hands gripping my ass only made me hungry for more. I tugged his hair as his lips greedily tried sucking mine off my face. I kept thinking someone would walk in at any time. Especially in this mansion.
“I need to go deeper,” he growled into my mouth.
“Give it to me, Catch.”
My husband wasn’t really the kind of man to get caught with his pants down. But if something were to happen, I’d pull the Glock free from his holster and kill the intruder. I had his back. His teeth sank into my neck as he bounced me up and down his long, thick pierced dick.
He hit that spot that made me yell his fucking name. “Catch, shit, I’m coming.”
“That’s right, come for your husband, Bombshell,” he whispered into my flesh.
He called me Bombshell again. As my orgasm washed over me, I smiled inside while my body quaked in my husband’s embrace.
“I love the way your pussy hugs my cock when you come. I’m about to fill your warm walls with my cum, Bombshell.”
“Please fill me, Callum.”
I nipped at his lips as Callum pushed deep into my core causing my eyes to widen. “Oh, yes, baby.”
My lips moved over his face as I inhaled my husband’s addictive cologne.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bombshell, this pussy is my weakness,” he breathed.
I still couldn’t believe Catch was my husband.
Catch’s dick throbbed inside of me as it softened. He walked sideways grabbing paper towel off the roll near the fridge.
“After I change my pants, I have to go to work,” he said as he placed a sheet of paper towel on the countertop, then sat my bottom on it.
Catch pulled up his slacks and fastened them. “I’m going to pat your pussy dry. Lay back on the counter so my sperm can flood your womb.”
I kissed his lips. “No. We aren’t having kids anytime soon.”
“Lay back right now wife before I climb onto the counter, push my dick back in your pussy, and push my cum up there myself.”
I rolled my eyes. “Baby, gosh, you just don’t stop.”
I leaned back on the counter. The cold surface cooled my hot skin. Catch circled his hand around my ankles, holding them high. He leaned down, kissed my pussy, and patted it dry.
“Catch, if you’ve messed with my birth control pills, you’ll force me to get an IUD.”
He released my legs and walked backward toward the hallway. “If you do, I’ll have a doctor remove it. Have a great day, Bombshell.” He disappeared down the hallway.
I gripped my hair in frustration.
Shit, my husband probably purposely left my birth control pills in Vegas. That was ok. I’d take a trip to urgent care and get a new pill prescription. Looked like my husband and I were at war when it came to when we’d start our family. I chuckled out loud. I’d win this war.