Chapter 21 | Bianca
Bianca
On Saturday, I took extra time with my makeup, wanting to look flawless for my first public appearance as Michael’s wife.
I’d ordered a dark green dress that hugged my curves and brought out the honey-colored flecks in my eyes.
Green was my favorite color, and the color of renewal, and I felt it would send a strong message that Michael and I were aligned against any of Victor’s remaining loyalists.
Once I shrugged the dress on, I gazed at myself in the mirror, observing my skin above the elegant, backless dress. For the first time in ages, I wanted to impress a man, and I hoped Michael would be pleased.
“Bianca?” he called, striding into my bedroom where I was getting ready. “Are you—” His eyes bore into mine in the reflection as he stood motionless before whispering, “Holy shit.”
I turned to face him, nervous for some reasons as I rubbed my clammy palms on the dress. “Is it...do I look okay?”
He closed the distance between us, stopping a few inches before me and allowing his gaze to rove over my frame.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” he said, softly whistling. “I’m afraid to take you out in public like that.”
“Oh,” I said, patting my hair, which I’d styled into a half updo. The rest of my curls hung down my back, ending between my shoulder blades. “I can change...”
“No,” he said, encircling my wrist and drawing me forward. Aligning our bodies, he rested his forehead against mine. “I’ll just have to live with the fact that I’m the luckiest bastard in the world, and everyone is going to want to fuck my wife.”
“Michael!” I said, playfully swatting his shoulder.
“It’s true, stella,” he said, pecking my lips. “You’re breathtaking.”
Tears stung my eyes as I realized how meaningful his words were to me. “Well, only one man will be taking me home tonight. My very generous husband, who bought this dress for me even if he didn’t realize it.”
Chuckling, he reached into his pocket and drew out a pearl necklace. Holding it high, he spoke softly. “This was my mother’s, and she treasured it. She always spoke of how they were real pearls,” he said, smiling at the memory.
“It’s lovely,” I said, overcome with the emotion in his voice. I knew his mother had died when he was young, and it was evident that he cherished her.
“I don’t know anything about fashion, so it might clash with your dress. If not, I’d love for you to wear it.”
Inhaling deeply, I struggled to tamp down the emotion welling in my chest. “I’d be honored.”
“Turn around,” he said softly before grinning. “And I’m not bossing you around. I just need you to turn so I can clasp it for you.”
I smiled and turned, observing him put the necklace around my neck in the mirror. It looked beautiful with my dress and the small cubic zirconia studs I’d purchased during my online shopping spree.
Michael glided his hand over my stomach, pulling me into his body as he gazed at me in the mirror. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he stared deep into my soul.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you by my side at one of these events.”
My eyes widened. “A bit presumptuous since I was someone else’s wife, no?” I teased.
He nuzzled my neck and whispered in Italian, “Nel mio cuore, sei sempre stata mia.”
“My parents spoke Italian, but I never learned more than a smattering,” I said, frustrated that I couldn’t understand him.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, kissing my neck before releasing me and turning me to face him. “What matters now is that you’re mine. After today, everyone who doesn’t already know, will.”
I smiled as I contemplated the next few hours.
Sal DeLoreno’s daughter was marrying one of Michael’s younger capos from a long-established New York family.
It would go a long way toward solidifying the DeLorenzo-Caruso alliance, and the rumors were that Alicia, Sal’s daughter, was madly in love.
The sentiment warmed my heart, knowing that she wasn’t marrying for duty, but for choice.
“Ready to go, mia?”
I nodded and grabbed my clutch before following him down the stairs and out to the SUV. Two men slid in with us, and I noticed that the backseat had been modified so they sat across from us.
“I’m sorry about the bodyguards, but they’re necessary until I accomplish my goal,” Michael said, taking my hand and lacing our fingers. “Rocco and Enzo are excellent at offering silent protection and staying as inconspicuous as possible.”
“I appreciate your protection,” I said, nodding to both of them. Glancing at Michael, I rested the back of my head against the leather backrest. “I wish Alexis was here.”
“Me too,” he said, patting my hand. “I’m working quickly, Bianca, I promise. You’ll be reunited soon.”
We arrived at the church and sat a few rows back during the ceremony. Afterward, we headed to a lavish reception hall and were seated at the next table beside the DeLorenzo family.
“This is prime seating,” I whispered to Michael. “Sal is sending a clear message.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “John and Simon are fools to challenge the Caruso-DeLorenzo alliance.”
I glanced around, noticing John, Simon and some of Victor’s other capos sitting at a table far across the room. John’s eyes lasered into mine, and he lifted his glass in a mock salute. I scowled, shooting daggers at him as I silently cursed his soul for wishing any danger upon my daughter.
“There, there, darling,” Michael said, his tone dry as he patted my leg. “If you’re not careful, you’ll kill my rival with your glare. Leave some fun for me.”
“If only we were so lucky,” I said through clenched teeth. “I detest murder, but you have my permission to end that bastard.”
Michael’s lips curved. “Noted.”
We stayed for a few hours, ensuring that we traversed the room so I could explicitly show my support for Michael. Eventually, my feet began to burn from the beautiful yet uncomfortable heels, and I longed to be home alone with my husband.
“I think we’ve firmly solidified that you’re my wife and I have your support,” Michael said in my ear as we slowly swayed on the dance floor. “I’m ready to leave if you are. I said my goodbyes to Sal a few minutes ago, and we’re on the same page.”
“Thank god,” I whispered, hugging him close. “I need sleep.”
Drawing back, he stared at me with lust in his dark eyes. “Sleep isn’t what I had in mind.”
I felt the blush all the way from my toes to my cheeks as his lips formed a sexy grin. “Come on, stella. Let’s go home.”
He led me through the reception hall as we waved our goodbyes. Enzo and Rocco accompanied us home, both of them remaining in the foyer as Michael led me upstairs.
When we entered his bedroom, he drew me toward the bed. His eyes were hooded as he unclasped his mother’s necklace, gently placing it on the nightstand before helping me slide my dress off.
I stood before him, clad only in my thin thong, and he hooked his fingers in the straps before drawing it off my legs. Lifting the lacy scrap to his nose, he inhaled my scent.
Desire roared through my frame as he stuffed the thong in his pocket. “I’ll be keeping these,” he said, mischief in his tone.
I breathed a laugh and backed toward the bed. Feeling bold, I lay atop the comforter, resting my head on the pillow as my hair splayed over the satin. Gliding my palms over my inner thighs, I drew them open, baring my pussy; offering myself to him.
His breathing grew labored as he dragged off his clothes, tossing them aside before coming to stand beside me. He touched the sensitive skin between my breasts and drew his finger down my body, the caress loving and naughty, all at once.
“Put your hands above your head and leave them there,” he commanded softly.
“Like this, sir?” I asked, raising my arms and gripping one wrist above my head.
He breathed a curse and gripped his cock, tugging back and forth as he gazed at me. “Yes, Bianca. Just like that.”
He crawled onto the bed, straddling me as he looked at me like a man drunk with desire. His palms cupped my breasts, and I moaned, wishing he would touch my nipples, which had grown unbearably taut in the open air.
“Your breasts are so pretty,” he murmured, massaging them before resting his palms on the bed, one on each side of me. Lowering his head, he rimmed one nipple with his lips before kissing a trail to the other one.
“You’re every fucking dream I’ve ever had, Bianca...” he rasped, gliding his wet tongue over my nipple before flicking it several times with the tip.
“Oh, god...please, Michael...”
His lips closed over my nipple, sucking the tiny bud deep as my hips bucked beneath him. His deep chuckle reverberated against the sensitive nub as he continued to drink me in, and I moaned with pleasure.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m playing with you, mia,” he said, kissing a path to my other nipple and sucking it deep between his lips. “I love playing with you...and kissing you...” he tenderly took my nipple between his teeth, creating an intoxicating sensation as it gently bit it before licking away the sting.
Arousal rushed through my core, and I wondered if I’d ever been so wet. I could feel it between my thighs, and already anticipated having his thick cock deep inside me.
“And I really enjoy tasting you, stella...” he continued, nipping my breast before kissing a trail down my stomach. His tongue reached my navel, dipping inside as my body quivered beneath. Continuing, he kissed the skin under my navel, moving lower until he reached my wet core.
He maneuvered between my thighs, pushing my legs open with his shoulders as he touched his fingers to each of my folds. Pulling me open, he breathed raggedly as he studied me.
“What do I taste like...down there?” I asked, wondering if it truly was pleasurable for him to kiss me there. Surely some men didn’t enjoy it, but Michael seemed to love tasting my arousal.