Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Reinaldo
I stood between the priest and Dante near the floor-to-ceiling windows. Missouri’s dark sky caused the panes to reflect like giant mirrors. Contessa had rearranged some of the furniture, creating a mini aisle, with two chairs on each side. Catalina sat on one side. The groom’s side was empty.
My heart ached for my mother. She was sentimental about things like weddings. Mí padre was too busy to care. I’d talked to him after receiving the capo’s blessing, and he told me to get my new bride to Bella.
Transfixed, I couldn’t look away. Once again, my eyes were glued to the staircase.
After music began, Camila was the first to descend. She looked pretty in a long golden dress. For a split second, I thought how strange it was for her to be here— a part of my wedding—considering our past. As she approached, her green eyes twinkled as they settled on the man to my side.
Jano asked me once how I felt about Camila since she and Dante married. My answer was that we were as we’d been for most of our lives. We were friends. The uncomfortable thoughts disappeared with the contentment that despite the absence of my family, Jasmine and I would wed surrounded by friends.
The music changed and Catalina stood.
My pulse raced as I looked toward the staircase.
Jasmine was an absolute vision. She was wearing a wedding dress. I wanted to ask how that was possible. Did the capo have one of those sitting around like the diamond ring Dante was now holding? But words couldn’t form. I was too busy watching my bride come closer with her hand on the arm of the man she admired. Her gorgeous blue eyes stayed focused on me as if she could see the man I was and was willing to learn the husband I could be. Having her trust was as important as having her hand.
We’d taken a bumpy road to get to this point. I’d do it all over again to have Jasmine at my side.
The dress fit her curves, the bodice pushing her breasts up in a sexy yet demure way. Her fiery red hair was pulled up, revealing her slender neck and collarbones. My fingers itched to reach out, as I had the first night here in this penthouse. To touch her soft skin. Once we were safely on Bella, I would explore every valley and dip of the sensual curves currently hidden beneath the long white dress .
Their Italian tradition of cutting the wedding dress sounded better than it ever had before. I intended to expose and explore every inch of Jasmine’s body to discover what brought her pleasure. And then I’d spend the rest of our lives making her scream my name in ecstasy.
When the priest asked who gave the bride, my breath caught as the capo replied, “It is with great honor that I do.” Lifting her hand from his arm, he placed it in my open palm. “Take care of her.”
“With my life.”
Jasmine’s cheeks rose as we held hands.
I supposed I should recall every word the priest said, but I didn’t. It wasn’t that I wasn’t listening; it was more that I was in awe of where this day had landed. We both replied appropriately when asked questions. “I do. I will.”
The band and diamond slipped perfectly over her finger, its significance more than any ring set we could have purchased. I offered to pay the capo and not surprisingly, he refused. I’d never have the pleasure of meeting Jasmine’s sister, but the ring made it feel as if she were here.
It was when the priest said that I may kiss my bride that my tired body roared to life.
We turned to one another. Cupping her cheek, I stroked her porcelain complexion before leaning forward until our lips met. In front of God and even more importantly, in front of the capo dei capi, I staked my claim. This was our third kiss and the longer it lasted, the more I wanted. A moan escaped from her lips, reminding me that once again we had an audience.
I pulled away with a grin.
“It is my pleasure,” the priest said, “in front of God and our small gathering to introduce for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Reinaldo Roríguez.”
Camila clapped.
Standing back farther in the living room, I saw Contessa wipe away a tear.
“ Senora Roríguez,” I repeated.
Jasmine held tight to my hand. “I like the way that sounds.”
“Me too.”
Before we could say more to one another, our gathering came to us. Camila and Catalina hugged Jasmine while Dante and Dario shook my hand.
After champagne and cake, Jasmine went upstairs to gather some of her things. Dario agreed to have the rest shipped to Sacramento.
Camila tapped me on the shoulder.
“ Sí ?”
“Your bride is upstairs, and she could use a little help getting out of that dress.”
I hadn’t considered her changing. “Me?” I pointed to myself and looked around for the capo.
“You’re her husband,” she said with a grin. “I mean, if you don’t want to, I can?—”
I quickly handed Camila my champagne glass and made my way up the stairs. Approaching the door, I remembered the first time I was in this bedroom with the threat of death hanging over my head. Instead of knocking, I turned the knob and pushed the door inward. Jasmine was standing in front of the full-length mirror.
She didn’t know I was here. There was power in watching someone, learning their habits and their tells. I wondered what Jasmine was thinking. Did she know how she affected me? Ever since our encounter on Christmas Eve, she’d been an ongoing presence in my mind, a burning ember waiting to combust.
“Oh,” she startled, spinning toward me. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m your husband.”
Jasmine nodded, looked down at the wedding rings and back up. “It all happened so fast.”
“No, preciosa , not fast. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I should have made my intentions clear long before Christmas Eve.”
She tilted her head. “Before that night in the living room?”
“ Sí .” I took a step closer. “ Mí papá showed me a picture of you.” I stepped closer, reaching for the combs holding up her hair and tugged one out. Tendrils of fiery red curls cascaded over her shoulder. “The picture did not do you justice.” I reached for another comb, releasing more of her flowing mane. “That night…downstairs…” Her cobalt-blue stare was glued to me. “I knew you would be mine.”
“That night you…” She inhaled. “You made me feel things I’d never felt.”
Slowly walking around her, I removed the last comb, freeing the last of her luscious long hair. I stopped mere inches in front of her. “Things? ”
Her pink tongue darted to her lips. “You looked at me like no one had ever looked at me.”
“Am I looking at you the same way now?”
Jasmine nodded. “It’s scary and at the same time exciting.” She took a step back.
From my angle, I could see the long row of buttons, her flowing hair in the mirror, and her flushed, beautiful face at the same time. “I’m looking at you and thinking about all the things I want now that you’re mine.”
“Rei…”
Her breathing had grown shallower and the vein in her neck thumped in double time.
“I want to rip that dress off you and unwrap the greatest present I’ve ever received.”
“The dress is Catalina’s…you can’t…”
Bending at the waist, I unsheathed the knife from my ankle holster.
Jasmine gasped and her eyes grew as wide as saucers.
“I want to see you as no man has seen you, Jasmine. I want to touch you where you’ve never been touched by anyone. The thoughts of things I want to do to you have me painfully hard.”
She swallowed and closed her eyes as I brought the tip of my knife to the neckline of the dress. Dropping the blade to the floor, I wrapped her in my arms and began my assault of her slender neck. Kisses, nips, and licks, my facial hair left a reddened trail on her sensitive skin.
“Oh, Rei,” she panted, reaching out to me and holding my shoulders.
“I want to taste every millimeter of you, inside and out. ”
Letting go of my shoulders, she stepped back, colliding with the mirror. “Rei, stop.”
There was a fine line between scared and excited, a tightrope to walk. I took a step back, giving her space and lightened my tone. “Do you remember what I said to you in this bedroom before I was banished to California?”
She nodded. “You said the next time we saw one another would be our wedding.”
I slapped a fist against my chest. “Senora Roríguez, I am a man of my word.” I grinned. “I also said something else.”
Pink filled Jasmine’s cheeks. “I remember. I’ve relived that conversation in my mind many times.”
“Say it, what I said.”
She blinked before lifting her hands to my shoulders. “You said you wanted to fuck me.”
“That hasn’t changed, but an important fact has—you’re now my wife.”
“I am. I’m a little scared.”
“And also excited?”
She nodded.
With my finger, I forged a trail from behind her ear to her neck, to her collarbone, and down to the apex of the neckline. “Tell me,” I said, my words breathy on her sensitive skin, “have you ever relived that conversation while touching yourself?”
When I pulled away to see her face, her eyes were closed, and her lower lip was secured between her white teeth .
“ Preciosa, you can tell me. The idea is making me hard this second.”
“I have.”
“Did you come?” As she tilted her chin lower, I lifted it. “Don’t try to hide from me. I want to see your pleasure.”
“I don’t know if I have or not. It felt good, but not like they describe in books.”
“When I touch you, you will know. From your head to your toes, you will know.”
Fuck, the idea of her coming with thoughts of me was making me painfully hard. Cupping the back of her neck, I crashed my mouth over hers, the way I wanted to kiss her downstairs. Jasmine didn’t shy away, pressing her body against mine and moaning as my tongue teased the slit of her lips. Without hesitation, she opened, allowing me entrance into her warm haven. She tasted so fucking good, like sunshine to a frozen tundra or water to a sunbaked desert. My hands roamed over her arms and down to her waist.
“I’m supposed to be helping you out of that dress.” I spun her around, eyeing the long line of buttons. “Fuck, tell me there’s a zipper under there.”
As I bent to pick up the knife, she shook her head. “Not an option. If you don’t want to help, I’ll call for Camila.”
“Oh, fuck that.”
I moved behind her gently so as to not rip the dress and began at the top button. Releasing one after another, each one revealed more and more of her skin. Curses in Spanish and praises in English spilled from my lips as the back of the dress unfolded, exposing her spine. Finally, the dress pooled around her high-heeled shoes.
“Fuck,” I murmured, as my wife stood before me in a corset, lace panties, and high heels. “You’re fucking amazing.”
Through the lace I saw a small patch of red hair at the apex of her legs.
“Who has seen what I’m seeing?”
“No one—no man.”
“I want to fuck you, Jasmine. I’m not going to do it in your childhood bedroom with your family downstairs.”
She let out a breath.
“When we’re on Bella, I will make you completely mine.”
“I’m yours, Rei.” Her eyes widened. “We don’t have to rush. We have forever.”
What did she say?
“Fucking my wife after our wedding isn’t rushing.”
“What is Bella?”