Alessandro
I’m a man who takes calculated risks, but bringing Isabella up here isn’t a calculation.
It’s idiocy.
But in this dangerous game I’m playing with the Vitales, I plan to win.
They’ve offered Isabella to me, and while yes, propriety dictates that I don’t touch her until our wedding night, as far as I’m concerned, she’s mine. The deal is done.
“If I’m only here so you can teach my brother a lesson in respect, then yes. I want to return downstairs. If, on the other hand, I’m here because you want to be with me, well, then… ”
The directness of her question shouldn't surprise me. It's what draws me to her.
What surprises me is how much of an asshole it makes me feel.
She’s right.
When I arranged for this space earlier today, my motivations had been petty.
A power play to remind Enrico that his sister is mine. What I didn’t consider was how this play would disrespect Isabella.
I don’t answer her even though the truth is that I do want to be here with her.
What I lack is the ability to tell her so.
I marvel at my new bride, but there’s only so much I’m willing to reveal to her.
Letting her know she affects me gives her power over me.
Power that I can’t let her have.
Not when she’s a Vitale.
"Follow me," I say, offering my hand.
She hesitates before placing her fingers in mine. Her hand is small but her grip is firm, a perfect metaphor for Isabella herself.
I lead her along the beds of night-blooming jasmine and white roses.
We reach a small reflecting pool at the center of the garden.
The water mirrors the city lights and stars above.
We continue walking, our hands still joined. I guide her toward the edge of the terrace where the city unfolds beneath us.
"I've lived in New York my whole life and I've never seen it like this." Her expression is filled with wonder.
It makes me realize that I too have lived in New York all my life and have seen this view hundreds of times, but seeing it through her eyes feels new.
I watch her profile as she tilts her head back to take in the night sky. The stars are faint against the city's glow.
"You're not what I expected," I tell her.
She turns to me. "What did you expect?"
"Someone malleable. Passive."
She purses her lips at me. “Of course you did. And instead?"
"Instead, I got you."
She laughs. "Is that a complaint, Don Dante?"
"An observation."
Isabella moves closer, her body mere inches from mine. Something primal flares inside me. It’s a warning that right now I don’t want to heed.
"And what do you observe?"
“A woman with intellect and strength.” My gaze drifts down to her lips, and the memory of the day at the wedding venue where I’d nearly kissed her returns.
"High praise."
"It wasn't meant to be praise."
"Wasn't it?" She steps closer still, and I wonder if she realizes what she’s doing. Does she know her effect on me and is using it? "Then what was it meant to be?"
My hand rises of its own accord, fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. Her skin is warm and soft.
"A warning," I murmur. "To myself."
Her breath catches. "About what?"
"How dangerous you could be."
Isabella looks up at me with those intelligent eyes. Eyes that see too much, that have seen too much of me already.
"Are you afraid of me, Don Dante?” There’s amusement in her voice, but also curiosity. I realize I’m giving her exactly what I wanted to keep… power.
I've never been afraid of anything. Not violence, not death, not the consequences of the life I've chosen. But standing here with Isabella Vitale, I feel something that leans closely toward fear.
"No," I lie.
Her lips curve into a knowing smile. "Liar."
For the first time in my life, I have the urge to run. Well, maybe not run, but to end this arrangement. The confusion, the feelings, they all unsettle me.
“Were you going to kiss me the other day at the wedding venue?”
Her question derails thoughts about running. “Did you want me to?”
She shakes her head at me. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t answer mine.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Liar,” I quip as my attention again returns to her lips.
“I’ve never been kissed. How can I want something I’ve never had before?”
I step closer to her, see the pulse in her neck tick up when I do. “Oh, you want it. You can feel it in your blood. It’s warm, isn’t it?”
She stares up at me like she’s mesmerized and gives a small nod.
“Your heart is racing in anticipation, am I right?”
She swallows and nods again.
I bring her hand to my chest, pressing her palm flush over my heart.
She glances down at her hand and then up at me. “Yours is too.”
“It is. I might act on it except… well… you’re not sure you want it.” I’m teasing her and I’m wondering what the fuck is happening to me. I’m a serious man. I don’t banter or tease.
“I think I’d like to try—”
“You think.”
Her brow furrows. “Perhaps you’re the one who doesn’t want to—”
I cut her off by capturing her lips with mine. I do my best to keep it gentle, but when her hands slide up my chest and around my neck, restraint becomes impossible.
My arm circles her waist, drawing her against me as I deepen the kiss.
She makes a small sound of surprise when I run my tongue along the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to open for me.
When she does, her taste explodes over my tongue, forcing a feral growl from deep in my chest.
She’s inexperienced and yet I can taste her desire.
I feel it in the rapid heartbeat where my hand rests against the side of her neck.
In an instant, the kiss becomes desperate and all-consuming.
Her fingers tangle in my hair as mine slide down her back, over her sublime ass, and press her to me so she can feel what she does to me.
She gasps as my dick makes contact with her belly.
But I don’t let up. I want more. I want her all.
And I want it now.
The warning bells clang in my head.
I’m losing control, something I can’t afford to do.
Not in business.
Not in violence.
And certainly not in sex or matters of the heart.
With Herculean effort, I tear my lips from hers and take a step back.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, cheeks flushed with heat.
I'm no steadier, and I’m pissed that I have to struggle for composure, fight against the urge to lift her dress and sink my cock into her virgin pussy.
"We should go back," I say, not moving an inch.
"Should we?" Her hands rest against my chest, her eyes clouded with a need that she clearly wants sated.
"Yes." I capture her wandering fingers. "Before I do something your brother would definitely kill me for."
A smile blooms across her face, transforming her from beautiful to breathtaking. "You're afraid of Enrico?"
"I'm afraid of what I want to do to you," I correct her.
"What do you want to do?" The innocence and boldness of the question nearly undoes me.
Hoping to scare her enough to break the sexual fog, I say, “I want to fuck you hard and fast, Isabella.”
She gasps, but it’s not fear or surprise I see. Fucking hell, she’s even more turned on.
She rises on her toes and presses her lips to mine again. I should push her away. Instead, I tug her body close, deepen the kiss, and grind my cock against her. I savor her taste, her warmth, the way she makes soft mewling sounds as my hands knead her ass.
She begins to lose herself, her fingers moving to my tie, loosening it. Her hands fumble with the buttons of my shirt.
The warning bells clang again, but I ignore them as my hands roam her body, growing more bold with each caress.
My hands slide down her hips and lower, then up again, pulling the skirt of her dress up to expose her thighs.
I know no man has touched her before and I can’t deny that it adds to the exhilaration.
If her brother or father, or any of their men come up here and find me with my fingers in her pussy, they’ll kill me on the spot.
But as long as that doesn’t happen, how will they ever know?
I can’t imagine Isabella telling them as they'll punish her too.
My fingers slide along her panties, discovering her sopping wet. All I want to do is drop to my knees and feast on her.
“Oh… that’s… oh… ”
“That’s what, Isabell?” My fingers work against her slick folds, and her head falls back, exposing the delicate line of her throat.
I want to mark her there, claim her as mine, but I hold back.
Instead, I circle her clit, applying pressure that makes her whimper.
“Good… that’s good.” She trembles in my arms.
Her hips buck wildly against my touch, seeking more pressure, more friction.
I give her what she needs, sliding one finger inside her tight heat while my thumb continues its assault on her clit.
"Alessandro!" She cries out my name as her pussy walls clamp down around my finger. My dick twitches in envy as her whole body shudders. I capture her mouth with mine to swallow her moans.
I continue stroking her through her climax, easing her down gently as aftershocks ripple through her.
When she finally stills, I withdraw my hand, bringing my fingers to my mouth and sucking.
Holy hell, she tastes delicious.
"You're beautiful when you come," I tell her.
Her cheeks flush. I run my thumb along her bottom lip, still swollen from my kisses.
"I can tell you're a virgin," I say, doing my best to not drop my pants and fuck her right there. "You're so tight. So responsive."
Her blush deepens, and she nods, unable to meet my eyes. "Does it bother you?”
“Hell no.” The thought that no man has touched her, that I'll be the only one to know her body this way, makes my cock throb even more painfully. "Knowing that my cock will be the first… the only inside that hot, wet pussy of yours, turns me on.”
She looks up then, her eyes searching mine. "Really?"
"Really. I can't wait to be inside you." Unable to help myself, my fingers find her pussy again.
Her breath hitches as I find her clit, still sensitive from her orgasm. "We don't have to wait.”
The suggestion sends a jolt of lust straight to my groin. I pull back slightly to look at her face.
"Isabella..."
"The contracts are signed. The arrangements are made." Her hands slide down my chest and she boldly cups my cock.
I can’t stop the reaction of grinding my dick against her hand. It’s a wonder I haven’t come in my pants yet, I’m so fucking hard.
Mafia men don’t have high morals.
But there is a code of honor.
There is a respect we’re expected to uphold toward Dons.
Fucking Isabella before our wedding would be the ultimate disrespect toward Don Vitale.
“You should have better than a quick fuck—”
“We’re under the stars. I can’t think of a better place.”
Jesus, she’s going to be the death of me.
"I just want..." She hesitates, vulnerability flashing in her eyes. "I want a choice in this. Everything has been decided for me. Who I marry, when I marry, what I wear. Let me choose when I give myself to you."