Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
One For The History Books
Chiara
“I, Chiara Gigioliotti, take you, Raf Princi, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ’til death do us part.”
My heart beats wildly as I repeat the vows Raf just recited to me. This might not be a church wedding, but it doesn’t escape my notice that Raf chose traditional vows to use in our ceremony. Our marriage may be a sham, but the enormity of the commitment we just made is very real.
I focus on the rise and fall of my chest working to keep my breathing even. My vision blurs thanks to the tears that want to escape. I grip Raf’s hands tightly, and he softly strokes his thumbs across the tops of my mine in a soothing motion. His warm, cocoa-brown eyes peer into mine.
“You may now kiss the bride,” announces the officiant.
Dropping my hands, Raf leans in, eyes twinkling and a small smile pulling at his lips.
He gently wraps his hand around my neck, drawing our faces together and places a soft, slow, open-mouthed kiss on my lips.
I kiss him back and revel in the warmth of his closeness.
Compared to every other physical encounter we’ve had to date, this one is sweet and wholesome, but the feel of his lips on mine sends a bolt of electricity coursing through my entire body that makes my toes curl and every other part of me crave more.
I tighten my hold on him, grateful for the comfort and steadiness he offers.
He breaks our kiss but keeps his face close. “You make a beautiful bride, Mrs. Princi,” he murmurs, voice thick with feeling.
I blink and whisper the first thing that pops into my jumbled thoughts. “We broke your no touching rule.”
He chuckles and presses his lips to my forehead. “Extenuating circumstances…and totally worth it.”
I look up at him, and he looks serene, his features soft and free of stress and worry. At peace. I wish we could live in this moment of wedded bliss forever.
I’ve done some wild things in my twenty-four years of life, but the day I became Raf Princi’s wife…
this moment will go down in history. With Raf’s driver Henry as our witness, a bouquet from the gift shop, and a ceremony officiated by Raf’s City Hall pal, it took all of thirty minutes to make us legally wed.
Afterwards, we came straight home, where an Italian feast awaited us in bags by the door.
We drank a beautiful bottle of red from Raf’s wine cellar, which I think was worth a small fortune, and then he went to work in his den.
I went to my room alone but wishing more than ever he was with me.
I continue to stare at the picture of us sharing our first kiss as husband and wife, wondering if we’d met under different circumstances, would he still choose me.
I heard Raf head to bed and shower about fifteen minutes ago.
I look at the time on my phone which clicks over to 11:11 p.m. and my heart starts to beat wildly.
I read somewhere once that when it comes to love, seeing 11:11 represents twin flames and soulmates.
A war wages between my mind, body, and soul.
Raf is a man who likes his privacy, prefers solitude over socializing, and has made it very clear he’s not in the market for love.
Yet to date, he’s let me infiltrate his home, his life, and even his bed for one night.
Respecting his boundaries is the least I can do after the position he’s put himself in for me, except I’ve never been very good at playing by the rules, and right now my ache for him is too strong, and that bolt of electricity I felt when his lips touched mine today surges through me.
What would it take for him to break his rules again?
How far can I push until the cracks appear on the cool, guarded, unreadable demeanor he’s perfected?
Surely no one can be that immune to the burn of raw need. Not even Raf Princi.
I trail my fingers along my hot skin to the memories of that night he gave me a taste of the sexy body and sinful mouth simmering behind the cool exterior.
I dip my finger into my underwear and glide it through the wetness pooled between my legs—where I want to feel him again most. I’m teetering on the edge, but at the last moment I pull back, deciding if anyone is going to take me over the edge tonight, it has to be him.
But first, I need him to crack so I can crawl between those crevices until they break wide open.
He might make the rules, but I was born to break them.
Tingles dance all over my skin at the thrill of the possibility that if I knock, he’ll open.
When I want something, nothing and nobody gets in my way, and right now I want my husband to fuck me.
I’m dizzy with reckless desire. Out of control with need.
Exiting my room in a short, whisper-thin silk slip, I quietly move towards his bedroom.
I arrive at his door and gently wrap my hand around the gold handle but don’t press down. I lick my lips and swallow. My heart is pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it through the heavy wooden door. I put my ear against it to see if I can hear any noise. It’s deathly quiet. It’s now or never.
I press down on the handle and push the door open as slowly as possible.
Just enough to let me slip through the gap.
And then I’m gently closing it, the click of the handle returning to its spot almost as loud as a gunshot in the quiet, darkened room.
I press my back to the door and try to slow my breathing, which sounds far more labored for the short dash I’ve made up the hallway to be here.
I marvel at the scene before me lit only by the moonlight streaming through the gauzy curtains at the window.
There he is. His six-four frame sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed.
Eyes closed. Hands locked behind his head and resting on the pillow beneath them.
I take in his profile. Long, dark eyelashes framing his almond shaped eyes.
Straight nose. High cheekbones. Strong jawline.
Kissable lips, the bottom one fuller than the top.
He’s still, like he’s asleep. Except the smallest, almost imperceptible flicker of his jaw tells me otherwise.
The thought of how he’s going to handle my uninvited intrusion sends a shiver of excitement down my spine that settles with a thud in between my legs.
I scan his tanned, muscular body honed by daily workouts and boxing.
My eyes follow the smattering of dark hair scattered across his chest and trailing down his body right down to his long, thick cock resting heavily between his well-built thighs.
Moisture pools between my legs as I salivate at the thought of running that same line down his body with my tongue and lips.
I take a tentative step towards the bed, unsure if he’ll break the silence with a command or if he’s waiting for my next move.
“Are you lost?” The deep timbre of his voice fills the quiet room.
“No,” I say softly, with much more confidence than I’m feeling now that I’m here in his room.
“So, why are you here, Chiara?” A question and command, my name rolling off his tongue like a purr.
The tension is so thick it almost makes it hard for me to walk further towards the bed where he still lies, naked and completely unbothered about the fact I can see every inch of his incredible body.
“I…I don’t know,” I answer honestly because I don’t know exactly what I was expecting; I just couldn’t quell the urge to come to him.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he tuts almost with a menacing chuckle. “I think you’re lying, Little Devil.”
He turns his head in my direction, his dark, almost black eyes boring into mine, before they roam every inch of my body, and it reacts accordingly. My nipples peak and strain against the silky slip, my next breath catching in my throat and the dull thud between my legs picking up in tempo.
“You know the rules,” he states.
“And you know I like to break rules,” I counter.
“Then come closer. I won’t bite…but then again, I think that’s why you’re here.”
I walk towards his gravelly voice like it’s a siren’s call. He tracks my steps but otherwise doesn’t move a muscle.
I’m standing at the foot of the bed now, and he’s looking up at me, but my eyes immediately fall to his cock.
I lick my lips and he chuckles darkly. Fucking chuckles.
The man doesn’t so much as crack a smile most days, and yet lying here naked as the day he was born and imploring me to reveal my secret fantasies to him, he fucking chuckles.
“Cat got your tongue, Little Devil? That’s a fucking shame. It’s going to be real hard for you to suck my cock if that’s the case. That’s what you came for, right? To wrap those pretty lips around my fat cock and take it right to the back of your throat?”
Oh God. I think I might come from his words alone. I fucking knew from the moment I laid eyes on Raf that he shared an appetite for the dark like me.
“I’ll give you that, but that’s not what I came for…husband,” I tease, watching his dark brown eyes flare when the term of endearment lands.
I put one knee on the bed, followed by the other, and crawl up into the space between his legs, coming to sit on my knees, hands resting on top. He takes in my position and lifts his gaze to mine.
“I don’t give a fuck what you came for. If you insist on breaking the rules, I call the shots. Now show me you can listen, for once in your life. Suck.”
His words send heat spreading over my skin like wildfire, and I wish it was his hands touching every inch of me. But he doesn’t move; he just lifts an eyebrow to silently reiterate his command.
Pulling my hair over one shoulder, I shimmy back slightly and bend at the waist so my mouth is now positioned over his hard erection, growing and thickening with each moment that passes.
I push my ass out further as I run my tongue along his length, following the same path as the veins that run up and down.
When I reach his tip again, I close my wet mouth over his engorged head, swirling my tongue around it.
His breathing is heavier, and just the sound alone turns me on even more.
Pumping up and down his length with my hand in time with my mouth, I suck, alternating between fast and slow, then taking him to the back of my throat and holding him there on a gag.
He hisses and I pull off, the taste of his pre-cum mingling with the mint of my toothpaste on my tongue.
I’m already addicted. And as if reading my mind, he commands, “Tongue out.”
I obey, and he wraps one hand around his cock and brings it to my tongue, rubbing the taut skin on the underside just below the head up and down my tongue.
I bat his hand away and take over, pressing my tongue to the spot and flicking, laving the sensitive head over and over.
The sounds of me fucking Raf with my mouth fill the room, his breathy exhalations like music to my ears, spurring me on to bring this man to his knees—and hopefully between my thighs.
He still hasn’t laid a finger on me, and it’s almost as bad as denying me an orgasm altogether.
As though he can read my mind, he finally reaches out and wraps my hair around one fist, pulling me off his cock with a hiss.
Sitting up quickly, he keeps his hand tangled in my hair, bringing his face closer.
“Fuck it,” he rasps before crashing his lips to mine, stealing whatever breath remained.
He kisses me deeply with full tongue, taking mine into his mouth and sucking on it.
The kiss is demanding and relentless. Like maybe he’s been hoping for more of this since the last time too. A girl can wish, right?
“I taste good on you, wife.” He smirks against my lips, ghosting his fingertips along my right shoulder where my strap has fallen off and then pushing it down completely, repeating on the other side so my peaked nipples are on full display for him.
He groans in approval, tweaking one then the other with his thumb and pointer. I gasp as the delicious zing of pain shoots through me and straight to my clit.
“You like the way that stings, baby?”
I arch my back on a soft moan. Like an offering. One he accepts willingly.
Keeping his eyes on me, he lowers and sucks my nipple into his mouth. Hard. “Yes,” I hiss, lost to the feeling of his tongue and lips on my sensitive nipple. He softly laps at it with his tongue before taking it between his teeth and gently biting down before popping off completely.
I run my fingertips through his dark hair and push his mouth towards my other breast in a silent plea to repeat the sweet torture on my other side.
“Who’s my greedy little wife?” he teases before giving me exactly what I’m asking for. I close my eyes, focusing on every touch. Every sensation. And that four letter word that has my heart racing. What would it be like to truly be his?
The bite of pain grounds me to this moment before I can let my imagination run away with thoughts of a world in which this man wants to claim me for his own.
Pulling off my breast, he kisses his way up my neck and along my jaw before bringing his lips to the shell of my ear.
“Now turn around, Little Devil. I’m going to give you what you came for.”