Chapter 54 Vivian
VIVIAN
Some days still felt like a dream I hadn’t meant to fall into—twisted at the start, born of blood and threats and impossible choices.
And yet, here I was, waking up beside the man I’d sworn to outwit and escape, kissing him goodnight, and calling him mine.
The road here hadn’t been clean or easy, but we’d carved something real from the wreckage.
A life. A bond. And gods help me, an actual wedding.
And of course, there would be cake. Lots of it.
We were supposed to be choosing our wedding cake today, which meant sampling loads of different flavors.
But leave it to Raffaele Gallanti—the same bastard who once stalked through shadows like a myth made flesh—to turn a wedding errand into something else entirely.
Something that began with a deep, claiming kiss, and a low, whispered promise.
“Let me take care of you.” And I, the woman who once lived a logical life, could no longer remember why I ever tried to resist.
Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us, pulling me into a kiss that could have melted my bones. Raffaele’s hands framed my face, his lips moving tenderly against mine. For a moment, I let myself sink into him, let the world fall away as the bond between us surged with love.
But then I remembered the task ahead and pulled back, placing a hand on his chest.
“Raffaele, we don’t have time for this. We have cakes to taste!”
He groaned dramatically, his hands dropping to his sides. “Come on, Viv. We’ve got, what, five minutes?”
“Five minutes?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “What the hell do you think we’re going to accomplish in five minutes?”
He smirked, mischief glinting in his eyes. “Oh, I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry about that.”
Laughing, I swatted his arm. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re irresistible.”
His lips crashed against mine again. I gasped against his mouth and gripped his shoulders for balance as he pulled me flush against him. The heat of him seeped into my skin, and my heart pounded wildly against my ribs.
“Raffaele,” I managed between kisses, my voice trembling as his hands slid to my hips. “What are you—”
He didn’t let me finish. His lips curved into a smirk against mine, and in one smooth motion, he lifted me and carried me across the room. He set me down on the desk and stepped back to look at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
His eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that maddeningly confident smirk that always left me weak. “Taking care of you,” he said simply, sliding his hands up my thighs. “Before we eat cake.”
“Raffaele,” I started, shaking my head, “you don’t need to—”
“Oh, I think I do.” His smirk widened as his thumbs brushed over the waistband of my pants, his touch firm but unhurried. “I can feel how tight your neck and shoulders are. You’re wound up, Vivian. You’ve had a stressful week. Let me take the tension away.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat as he pulled my pants down with deliberate slowness. The cool air hit my skin, and my cheeks burned as he dropped my pants to the floor, taking my panties with them.
“Raffaele.”
His eyes locked onto mine as he knelt in front of me. “Relax,” he murmured, spreading my thighs. “Let me take care of you.”
I swallowed hard as he pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee. His lips were soft, warm, and the sensation sent a ripple of heat through me. He moved slowly, kissing a path up my thigh, his hands firm on my hips as he held me in place.
I tried to focus, to clear my mind, but it was impossible. Each kiss up my leg pulled me deeper into a haze of need. By the time his lips brushed the sensitive skin between my thighs, I was trembling and gripping the edge of the desk.
“You’re already so wet,” he murmured, his breath hot against me. “Do you know how beautiful you are like this?”
I couldn’t find the words to respond, my thoughts dissolving into static as his tongue flicked over my clit. A broken moan slipped from my lips, and I felt him smile against me, his hands tightening on my thighs as he began to explore me.
His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, teasing and coaxing me higher with each pass. I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from my lips, couldn’t stop my hips from bucking against him. He groaned softly, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through me.
“Raffaele,” I gasped, my hands flying to his hair as he sucked on my clit. “Oh, gods—”
“That’s it,” he murmured as he pressed his tongue against me again. “Let me hear you, Vivian.”
The tension in my body coiled tighter as his fingers brushed against my entrance. He slid one finger inside me, and I let out a shaky moan, my walls clenching around him as he began to move.
“You’re so tight,” he said, his tone full of awe as he added a second finger, stretching me. “So perfect.”
I bit my lip, my head falling back as his fingers moved in a steady rhythm that matched the flicks of his tongue. The pressure built higher and higher, every nerve-ending alight as I teetered on the edge.
“Raffaele,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he murmured. “You can take it, Vivian. Let go for me.”
He added a third finger, curling them just right, and I cried out, my hips jerking against him as the tension finally snapped.
My orgasm crashed over me, wave after wave of pleasure leaving me trembling and breathless.
He didn’t stop, his fingers and tongue coaxing every last shudder from me until I was a boneless mess on the desk.
But he wasn’t done.
I barely had time to recover before he added another finger, the stretch almost too much. He moved slowly, carefully, letting me adjust, and the sensation was so raw and intimate that I couldn’t put it into words.
“Raffaele,” I whimpered.
“Just breathe,” he said softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my hip. “I’ve got you.”
He flicked his tongue over my clit again, and I moaned, my body tightening around his fingers. The pressure was building faster this time, the pleasure almost too much to bear. And then he shifted, his pinky sliding out of me only to press gently against my asshole.
I gasped, my body stiffening as he circled the sensitive ring of muscle, teasing and testing. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady. “Trust me.”
I did. Slowly, carefully, he pushed his pinky inside me, and the sensation was unlike anything I’d ever felt. It was strange, almost too much, but then he curled his fingers inside me again, his tongue finding my clit, and everything fell into place.
I screamed, my body arching off the desk. My vision blurred, my thoughts scattered, and all I could do was hold on to him, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer.
When my body finally stilled, he rose to his feet, his hands steadying me as he kissed me slowly, tenderly. I tasted myself on his lips, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was his touch, his voice, the way he made me feel like I was the center of his world.
He kissed the back of my neck, where the marriage bond had left a dark mark. “I love you,” he murmured against my lips, his voice filled with reverence. “I’ll always take care of you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered, my heart full as I leaned into him. “Always.”
The kitchen was warm and fragrant, filled with the sweet aroma of cakes fresh out of the oven.
The massive island was covered in rows of slices—chocolate, vanilla, citrus, almond, and some I couldn’t even identify.
Eldora had outdone herself by recruiting the estate’s cook to make enough cakes to feed an army, all for Raffaele and me to sample.
“This one has pistachio in it,” Raffaele muttered, inspecting a delicate green slice on a silver platter. He looked at it like it was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve before spearing a forkful and bringing it to his mouth. “Not bad,” he conceded, his brow furrowed.
I laughed, leaning back against the counter as I savored a piece of spongy citrus cake. “You’re taking this very seriously,” I teased. “It’s just cake.”
He pointed his fork at me, a playful glint in his dark eyes. “It’s not just cake. This is our cake. It has to be perfect.”
I shook my head, but warmth spread through me. A real wedding. A celebration with our friends and family. Something I’d never thought I’d have, let alone deserve. “Fine,” I said, grinning. “But I’m vetoing pistachio.”
“Good. I wasn’t sold on it either.”
I took another bite of the citrus cake and sighed happily. “I think this one’s my favorite so far.”
Raffaele leaned closer, his gaze flicking to my plate. “Let me try it.” Before I could offer my fork, he stole the bite off it with his own.
“Rude,” I said, swatting at him, but he just smirked.
“It’s good,” he admitted. “But I still think the chocolate is better.”
I rolled my eyes and set my plate down. “You would.”
We fell into easy banter as we continued tasting the cakes.
I was still getting used to this lighthearted side of Raffaele.
Who would have thought this man was beneath the ruthless monster who had forced me to marry him?
It felt surreal to stand in the kitchen, planning something as ordinary as a wedding when our lives had been anything but ordinary.
“I’ve decided on my maid of honor,” I said, breaking the companionable silence.
Raffaele arched a brow, popping another bite of chocolate cake into his mouth. “Oh?”
“Celeste,” I said, smiling at the thought of my best friend. “And Eva and Camilla as bridesmaids.”
His fork paused midair. “Eva?”
I nodded. “Raffaele, she’s your sister. My sister now. I want her to be part of this.”
“I know. It’s just… I’ve never allowed her in The Below before. It’s never been safe for her.”
“That’s exactly why she needs to be here now,” I said firmly. “Your father is gone. The illusions are gone. It’s a new beginning. She’ll be safe.”