39. Ilaria
39
ILARIA
T he pictures were taking too long. How many times were we going to be moved around with our friends and family? How many times did the photographer insist that we kiss for just one more picture in one more pose?
“You’re being impatient, wife.” Dante’s voice was a gravelly growl in my ear that sent shivers down my spine and made me lose the last shred of decency that I had been clinging to.
Turning, I grab his hand, pulling him towards the parking lot where I was sure that his driver was waiting.
“Where are we going?”
Dante let me two hand shove him into the backseat, laughing as I looked at the driver who seemed shocked to see us walking out of the reception that we hadn’t joined yet.
But I was tired of waiting for everything.
“Home. Drive us fucking home.”
Dropping into the backseat, Dante pulls me close, all my wedding dress coming with me as he pulled at it so that he could have me straddling him.
His hands are greedy as he looks down, thumbs running over the lace of the top of my stockings, his thumbs grazing over the straps of the garter belt as he made a sound that was pure torture and made me rock against him.
“Why are we going home, Ilaria? We have a wedding reception we have to get back to.”
But he was nuzzling my neck, his lips kissing as his tongue drew patterns over the pulsing vein there. I was trembling on his lap, needy and wanting more of him, always wanting to have more of him.
There wasn’t ever going to be a time in my life that I grew tired of Dante. I think that I would always need him.
“Because I’m tired of waiting, Dante. I want my husband and can’t wait until after the reception. I want you now.”
He groans at me in response, pulling back from me and meeting my eyes to see if this was some sort of joke, but it wasn’t. His eyes watching me made me self conscious and I felt my teeth bite down on the bottom of my lip.
Dante’s thumb comes up, pulling my lip free and running over it as he stared at my mouth like it was all he ever thought about. A soft kiss pressed against them making me sigh out. I’m melting against him as his hands ran over my thighs and come to rest on my back, pulling me in closer to him as I sighed out in delight.
“Whatever my wife wants, she gets.”
We had been less than five minutes away from our home so before he could devour me in a kiss Dante was pulling me up the stairs and towards the elevator. He slid the keycard over the penthouse and the elevator jutted upward.
Leaning forward, he put me out of some of my misery, kissing me with a passion that made me dizzy as I cried against his lips wanting more from him. Always wanting to have more of him like some sort of glutton.
Dante’s hand on my back was accompanied by another, making me gasp out and break out kiss as he held me in his arms in the traditional bridal hold.
“What are you doing?”
“Carrying my wife across the threshold, principessa. What do you think I’m doing?” He teases as he moved us inside, right towards the bedroom.
He sits me on our bed, his eyes hungry as they watch me.
It was then that the fear hit me.
Before I hadn’t thought about how many people Dante had been with. I was the mafia princess, who had to save herself from marriage. Dante was the heir to the Don who had probably been taken to brothels when he was a teenager and had swam in his share of pussy.
What if I didn’t meet his expectations?
What if I wasn’t what he wanted?
“Look at me Ilaria.” My eyes were on him as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of me, taking one of my heels off and moving to rub my aching soles before going to the other and doing the same motion with a tenderness that made me ache.
The way Dante takes care of me always makes me weak.
He kissed my calf, “I want you in a way that I’ll never want someone else again. You are all I need for the rest of my life. You are all I want. I love you, principessa. Our souls were made to be joined together.”
He kisses my ankle, moving to help me stand as he turned me so I could see us in the mirror of the bedroom.
Dante is so much bigger than me, even in the big ballgown wedding dress I was wearing his presence was still larger than life.
He meets my eyes in the mirror and something passed on his face as he paused unbuttoning my dress, hands sliding over my shoulders as we both watched his next movement.
The dress is pushed down, leaving me in the strapless white lingerie set that had my husband groaning in appreciation at. Seeing how much he wanted me, how his hands couldn’t stop touching me let something in my stomach.
“I want you to see how beautiful you are. I want you to see how much I want you.”
His jacket is thrown over the chair, undressing himself as he had me stand in front of the mirror for him. Dante’s eyes lifted as he looked at me again, a shiver of anticipation rocketed through me as heat pooled in my stomach.
He turns ripping the down comforter he tossed it from the bed, grabbing the fitted sheet he yanks it off the mattress, moving it towards the mirror. He lays it on the floor, holding his hand out as I step on it, still lost in the way that he is looking at me.
“I’m going to make you come for me. I’m going to get you nice and wet before I take you for the first time, wife. And I’m sorry but once I have you you’ll be ruined for all men afterwards because I’m going to devour you in a way that leaves you trembling for days after. I’m going to make love to you until every time you walk a bit of us both pour out of you.”
Dante kisses down my spine as I tremble in his touch, wanting him so deeply that I was shaking with need. Hearing him tell me about what he was doing to me caused a flame in my stomach, my sex already soaked as I thought about begging him to make good of his word.
But he is on his knees, turning me so we were getting a side view of what was happening in the mirror.
The lace over my panties dampened even more when his tongue ran across the silk material, hungrily lapping at the fabric as he sucked my clit. The friction made me buckle towards his face, eyes closing as my head is thrown back.
“Your eyes on me. On us. I want you to see every single thing that your husband is doing to your body.”
My husband.
Fucking hell that was the hottest thing in the world he could say to me.
Reaching down I grab his hand, looking at the simple gold band he had chosen to wear for the rest of his life. My name had been engraved inside of it, making me nearly feral when he had shown me that detail.
“My husband.”
“My wife.”
He kisses my stomach, his fingers tugging down the panties and tossing them aside as he looked up at me from his knees. One of my thighs is guided over his shoulder as I bury my hand in his head to keep my balance.
The way his tongue circles my entrance, tongue prodding inside of me as I groan. Forcing myself to keep my eyes looking at the way he is devouring me. Watching as he ate my pussy like it was his favorite meal, groaning and moaning against the wet flesh as I shook from the pleasure of it all.
My legs want to give out from the euphoria that he is causing me, how delirious I feel from having him taste me in the most intimate ways.
But I wanted more of him. I wanted all of Dante to myself.
“Please.” the word came out as I beg him. “Please, Dante. I need-”
“Shh, I know what you need, principessa. And what you need it to have that pretty pussy coming on my tongue so I can fuck this tight hole.”
Shivering at his words I watched the way he keeps on eating me. His tongue slipping from my wet hole, through my folds and wrapping around my clit, humming as I cried out, feeling myself release, rocking my hips as Dante’s hands came around to support me through my orgasm.
His lips moved to kiss my thigh, nuzzling the flesh through my orgasm as I tremble against him. A soft scratch from his beard making my skin, that was already sensitive seem ,to become that much more in-tune, needy for him.
Dante rises up, kissing me before he spun us he was half behind me. His cock was in his hand, hard and dripping with a few pearls of precum, tugging at himself as he kisses my shoulders and neck, Tasting me as he works himself up and down my slit.
My hands twists to undo the bustier I was wearing, leaving me in just my garter belt and stockings as I stood in front of Dante knowing that it was going to happen.
“Don’t be afraid of me.” He slides behind me. His leg spreading me apart, “I’ll always take care of you, Ilaria. I promise.”
His voice calms me as my heart races and the fear floods my system, making me nervous all over again.
The whole time Dante rubs my stomach, holding me as he kisses my body, trying to bring comfort to me. As he waits for me to calm down a bit before moving forward.
The head of his cock is slipping through my wet folds, sensitive from the orgasm he had just worked through me. I push back, whimpering as his hand slips around my waist, thumb stroking above my belly button. My head turns his lips finding mine, kissing me and making me ache for him.
I can feel the emptiness of not having him when I haven’t even had him before.
“Watch.”
The one word makes me turn from Dante to meet his eyes in the mirror, his eyes are on my face as I see the head of his cock peeking out from between my legs, rocking against my slickness as his hand holds me steady.
And then his cock is pushing against me, the head of him sliding into me as my knees buckle and I’m sure I would collapse if he wasn’t holding me up.
But Dante isn’t going to let me fall. He’s too busy kissing my neck, whispering against the skin, and watching me in the mirror as his cock sinks into me. The feel of him pushing every inch of himself into me until my legs shake and I feel like I’m going to break apart.
It’s too much.
I’m too full.
It burns from the stretch of him.
My insides feel all twisted up, like they’re suddenly not where they’re supposed to be and I want to cry out from the pain of having him inside of me.
But Dante rocks slowly, not pausing as he tries to ease my body to get used to this.
“Shh, look. Look at how good you take me, mia moglie. My good little wife.”
The new endearment makes my cheeks burn.
His wife.
I’m Dante’s wife.
My eyes watch his cock sinking into me, the way he fills me is unlike anything I’ve ever experience. It floods all five of my senses.
The smell of him, soft traces of his cologne mixed with the sweat of our bodies and heady muskiness of sex.
The sound of my gasps and his soft moans. The way our skin meets in this wet slapping beat.
The taste of our desire flooding the air. Stolen kisses from each other so we can taste each others need.
The feel of him inside of me. Stretching me out as his hands hold me steady and safe in his arms.
The sight of it all. The pair of us joining together for the first time. Drops of red cover him, dripping down on the sheet below us as my cheeks burn as my virginity is given to him.
Evidence of it falling on the sheets of our bed to be shown at the wedding brunch tomorrow.
Old traditions with new lovers.
Dante’s fingers slide to my front, soft circles on my clit make me gasp out, eyes fluttering for a second before I meet his gaze in the mirror.
It’s intense, watching him behind me, the way his face looks tormented with pleasure as he moves inside of me, looking like this is his heaven that I am his salvation. My breasts are bouncing as he bends to fit himself between my legs. Kissing me as my hands slid back around his neck, using him like an anchor as we took our pleasure from each other.
“I love you.” I pant, looking a from the mirror and to my husband, “I love you, Dante.”
I’m so close to coming. I can feel the way my pussy is squeezing him but there is fear in the orgasm that Dante senses as he kisses me, slowly. He hasn’t lost control yet. I can feel his restraint as he pushes into me. The sound of our bodies together, a little more frantic as I swallow around our kiss and push back.
“Jesus Christ, mia moglie. You’re going to make me cum before you. I need to feel you fluttering around me. Please.”
Dante lets me look at him, our eyes on each other as he holds me and I shiver, ready to give him everything.
His thumb strokes my clit and I cry out for him, pushing up so my lips hit his as he lowers us to our knees, pushing into me from behind as my head lays against the mirror we had been staring in, coming undone on his cock as I cry his name.
“Yes, yes. Just like that. Ilaria .”
My name on his lips sounds like a fevered prayer as he comes inside of me. Wet warmth make my eyes widen, cheeks flushed from the heat of him filling me.
The way he rocks through the aftershocks of his orgasm, kissing my shoulder blades as he mutters soft promises of love and safety against them.
When he slides out of me there is a rush between my legs that the sheets catch. A mix of our orgasms and my purity staining the sheets in a wet mess that men can have pride over.
Dante stands, picking up as he carries me into our bathroom and wetting a washcloth. He strokes it between my legs, washing away the mess of cum and blood as I watch him.
The tenderness of a man who is going to take over a family that runs the city. But to me Dante will always be this, my husband. The man who cares for me. The man who loves me.
“Are you alright?”
He has switched washcloths, frowning at the small bit of blood staining my silk stockings. Stroking it with his thumb like he is in a trance before he is looking at me like he hurt me instead of completing me.
“With you, I’m always okay.”