8. Caterina
Ihead back to the table after Emilio. He doesn’t just get to touch me and give me an orgasm without talking to me about it. It was the first time anyone has touched me between the legs, and it felt so good my body is still tingling minutes later.
I’m ready to tell Emilio off, but I stop when I remember we’re at our rehearsal dinner and both our families are present.
My dad looks up at me as I take my seat. “You’re looking a little flushed, pumpkin. Is everything all right?”
I could die from embarrassment as every at the table looks at me. Massimo gives me a knowing look. He must know what Emilio and I just got up to in the bathroom. Lara and Ophelia are polite and look away first, though I suspect they probably know what happened, too.
Gabriella doesn’t shy away, though. “You look sick. Are you sick?”
“Yes, Caterina, are you well?” Emilio asks. “I’d hate for you to be sick on our wedding day.”
I flash him a quick glare before turning back to Gabriella. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Dad asks. “The wedding is tomorrow. Maybe we should head home, so you can rest.”
“I’m fine, really.” I can’t give Emilio the satisfaction of me leaving. He’ll think he’s driven me away, and that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I won’t be driven away. I’m a woman who plants herself to the earth and is unmovable. “I’m … on my period!”
That shuts everyone up.
Dad looks uncomfortable. “Right. Well.” He clears his throat. “Right.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” I say.
He nods but doesn’t look me in the eyes. He’s always awkward when it comes to my period. I think it just reminded him I’m no longer a little girl, and that thought has always made him feel weird. If my dad had his way, I’d never grow up.
“Do you need a tampon?” Gabriella asks. “Or a pad? I have both.” She starts digging through her purse, while Massimo shudders, and Ophelia gives him a look. Rocco ends up clearing his throat and placing his hand on Gabriella’s arm.
“I think Caterina is fine,” he tells her.
“But …” Gabriella looks at me with wide eyes. “Seriously, if you need one, I got one.”
“I’m good.” I say. “I … had one of my own.”
She nods and drops the subject, for which I’m grateful. I am not ashamed about what Emilio and I just shared. Not one bit. I’m just frustrated he got the upper hand, and I can’t tell him off in front of his family. I mean, I could, but then my dad would be disappointed in me, and there’s nothing I fear more.
The dinner ends soon after.
“Daddy,” I say as well head for the door, “I’d like to talk to Emilio for a moment.”
“Of course, pumpkin.” He kisses my cheek before leaving.
I turn to Emilio and place my hand on his chest, stopping him. “Wait right there, mister.”
“Mister? I didn’t realize we were in the eighteen hundreds.”
Damn him. “You don’t get to do what … you did,” I add in a lower voice, “without talking to me about it first. You just left me in that bathroom and walked away with a smug grin. I hate you, you know.”
“Good to know we feel the same way. I hate you, too, but now, I know how to shut you up.” He flashes me a grin.
I huff. “You think you’re so much smarter than me. You’re not.”
He leans in closer to me. “I’m pretty positive I’m the one who just gave you an orgasm so good it made you speechless. I think that puts me in the lead. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t experienced that before. How many men have you fucked in public restrooms anyway? You know what? I’d rather not know. But I’m sure it’s a lot.”
I want to snap back I’ve never done anything like that before, but that would make Emilio way too pleased, and I can’t do anything to make him happy. It would wreck my soul.
He brushes past me and leaves, getting the final word in. Again.
Ugh. I really hate Emilio. He’ll be my husband tomorrow, so that’s just great. I’m entering into a marriage with an insufferable grump who keeps slut-shaming me.
Emilio doesn’t know what’s going to hit him.
He wants to make my life hell? Then two can play that game.
* * *
“Caterina, pumpkin. Wake up,”Dad says, knocking on my door. “It’s your wedding day.”
Fuck.
I roll over in bed and look at the clock. He’s right. It’s morning. In just a few hours, I’ll be married to Emilio De Luca, the most irritating man alive.
It’s also irritating how I can’t stop thinking about the orgasm he gave me yesterday. Sure, I’ve given myself orgasms plenty of times, but I’ve never had anyone else do it for me. It was … electric. God, my body was on fire. Even though Emilio annoys the hell out of me, I wouldn’t mind kissing him again. Touching him.
Maybe even fucking him.
Sure, I’ve never had sex, but how hard can it be to figure it out? As long as Emilio never finds out I’m really a virgin, we’re good. He can go on thinking I’m some woman who’s slept with half of New York City. I don’t care.
I just want to live a little, and experiencing sex would allow me to do that. Even though Emilio is wound tight, I’m sure he loosens up during sex. Hell, I hope so; otherwise, my sex life is going to be miserable, too. I want to see Emilio loosen up. I want to see him become truly wild.
It makes my center throb with arousal.
The memory of his hand on my pussy is too much. I want to feel it again. I’m desperate for it.
Of course, I’m not going to tell him that. I’d rather die.
But it’s our wedding day, which means it’ll be our wedding night, which means we’ll probably have sex. Even if that’s the one thing Emilio and I can have fun doing together, I’ll take it. I can ignore him the rest of the time. Easy peasy.
With that in mind, I gladly get out of bed and ready for the day.
Dad and I head to the hotel where the wedding ceremony and reception are taking place. Once in my room, I change into my wedding dress.
It’s a mermaid style gown that hugs my body perfectly. The neckline is straight across, but it shows off enough cleavage to be both sexy and classy. My hair hangs in waves around my face.
I look good. I know it.
The question is—will Emilio think I look good?
I want to see his jaw drop when I walk down the aisle. I want him to desire me so much he regrets all the stupid, bullshit things he’s said to me. I want him to grab me and kiss me. Even though he’ll make some comment about leaving me speechless, it’ll make him speechless, too.
Dad enters the room and stops when he sees me. “You’re so beautiful, pumpkin. My baby girl, getting married.” He sniffles and wipes at the tears forming in his eyes.
“You’re going to make me cry, and I don’t want to ruin my makeup.” I hug him.
“So, this is it. You’re finally leaving the nest and becoming a woman.”
I want to point out I’ve been a woman for a couple of years now, but my dad doesn’t see me that way and never will. I’ll be a hundred, and he’ll be long dead, and he’ll still see me as a baby.
“Do you approve?” I nod down at my dress.
“It’s beautiful. Though … a little more provocative than I would’ve thought, but it’s your wedding day. I want you to be happy in anything you wear.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” We hug once more before letting each other go. I turn back to the mirror. “Ok. Let’s do this.”
* * *
The wedding is large,with over a hundred people in attendance. I honestly don’t know many of the people because they’re my dad’s coworkers, but that doesn’t bother me. I can have a party with anyone.
Everyone stands when I enter the room with my dad on my arm. Emilio stands at the end of a long aisle with a priest with him. I’m not Catholic in the slightest, but most Italians in New York are. I know the De Lucas are.
Though I never would’ve pegged Emilio as religious, seeing as he has a constant stick up his ass, it’s not surprising.
His facial expression doesn’t change as I walk down the aisle. Damn him. He knows what he’s doing. But I do see his eyes widen for just a fraction before returning to his normal annoyed, grumpy look. He likes what he sees. I know it.
When we reach the end of the aisle, Dad passes my hand to Emilio. “Take good care of her,” he says.
Emilio nods. “I will.”
I want to snort. If Emilio means spanking me forever, then sure, he’ll take good care of me; otherwise, I doubt it.
Emilio and I stand before each other as the ceremony starts. I’ll admit—he looks good in his suit. Like, really good. Like, I could kiss him right now good.
How can someone who annoys me so much also make me body feel like it’s going crazy? It doesn’t make sense, but it’s what’s happening.
“Do you, Emilio De Luca, take Caterina Russo to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asks.
He stares at me, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. Then he opens his mouth. “I do.” His voice is clear and unwavering, and it does things to me.
Here I am, signing away my life to a man who wants to keep me locked up forever. I should be hating this moment, and in some ways, I am. But I’m also excited to experience more that life has to offer. Without my dad keeping an eye on me, I’ll be free to go where I want, when I want. Sure, Emilio might object to that, but he doesn’t scare me. I’m not afraid to disappoint him. I already disappoint Emilio just by breathing in his general direction.
“Do you, Caterina Rocco, take Emilio De Luca to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” I respond, giving Emilio a smirk as I say it. His lips twitch, but otherwise, he only stares at me with his grumpy expression.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Emilio leans in and gives me the most chaste kiss I’ve ever experienced. I lean in for more, but he’s backing away before I get it. Now, it’s his turn to smirk at me.
“Screw you,” I whisper.
He just shrugs.
We leave the ceremony to go have our pictures taken in the rooftop garden before joining the rest of the guests in the ballroom.
Emilio and I are quiet until we enter the elevator.
“You must be happy,” I say. “You own me now. You can do whatever you want with me.”
“Why did you insist on torturing me with your dress?” he mutters.
I make a point of looking down at it and back up to meet his gaze, fluttering my eyelashes. “Whatever do you mean? Don’t you like it?”
He growls, and before I know it, he’s pushed up against the wall of the elevator is kissing me with passion. I instantly kiss him back. If this is the one thing Emilio and I can enjoy together, then enjoy it, I shall.
I moan against his mouth as he presses his body harder against mine.
Then the doors slide open.
We pull apart like a rubber band snapping back. Emilio turns away from me and smooths down his hair like we didn’t just make out in the elevator.
We walk onto the roof, where the photographer is waiting for us. He’s a middle-aged man with graying hair. “Who’s ready to have their photos taken?”
I raise my hand. “Me!”
Emilio grumbles under his breath.
This will be fun.
After taking our photos, where I give it my all and Emilio has to be reminded to smile, we head back downstairs.
“That was humiliating,” he says.
“That was our wedding photos.”
“And it was humiliating. I don’t care for taking pictures. It’s a waste of my time.”
“Why, aren’t you just a ball of fun?” I mutter before entering the ballroom to a wave of cheers.
Emilio takes my hand, surprising me. He must notice my expression because he says, “We need to make it look convincing. I won’t have people talking about me.”
“So, you’re saying we need to look like we’re in love?” He nods. “You know, Emilio, that would be much easier if you didn’t act like such an ass all the time.” I pull my hand away from him.
“We have to have our first dance. It’s expected.”
My heart skips a little at the thought of being back in Emilio’s arms again. Just for that, I’ll do anything.
I can’t let him know that, though, so I shrug. “Sure.”
We walk onto the dance floor, and Emilio pulls me into his arms. I catch my dad’s eyes as I spin around the dance floor to see him smiling widely. It makes me happy to know he’s so happy for me.
“You’re a good dancer,” Emilio says, surprise in his voice.
“You thought I wouldn’t be? I’m offended, Emilio.”
“I didn’t think you’d be good at the finer things in life.”
I snort. “Well, I am. Now, shut up, and let us dance.”
“As long as you stay quiet, too.”
Me? Impossible.
We manage to finish our dance without killing each other. “There. We did our duty,” I say. “Now, I’m off to the bar.”
“Wait.” He grabs my arm. “You’re my wife now, Caterina, and this isn’t the club.”
“It’s our wedding and a party. I’m going to have some fun. Either join me or get out of the way.”
Slowly, he lets go of me, and I turn away from him and head to the bar.
I’m going to have fun tonight, damn it. And no one can stop me.