Should I tell her of my grandfather? Does she have a right to know she’s a revenge bride, meant to pay a debt deeper than money, to the Russo family?
I feel lighter, the muscles in my shoulders less tense, spending this time with her. The second evening, Felicity and I once again share a bed. She nuzzles into my side and I find I can’t keep my hands off her body.
I kiss her lips. She winds her arms around my neck. Spreading her legs. Welcoming me. Afterward, I hold her as she sleeps, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. As I drift off, I find myself pulling her in tighter to me, as if I’m afraid she will disappear into the night.
When the shield comes down, the work begins.
As eager as I am to view the Bachman’s arms storage, I find I don’t want to leave Felicity. But she’ll be safer here in Alec’s protection.
My gaze flits to Esme. She’s supposed to be clearing up the breakfast dishes, but she’s been wiping the same plate for ten minutes, making eyes at Alec as he programs the black box on the wall.
Rockland’s men are due to pick me up any moment. I pull Alec aside.
My fingers grip into his bicep as I lower my voice. “Keep an eye on Esme, but touch her and you’re a dead man. I know she enjoys flirting, but she’s not for you and if you so much as lay a finger on her, there will be a war between our families. Is that understood?”
“Understood.” He gives me a wide-eyed gaze and a nod. “But know that I take my job as a Bachman bodyguard seriously. I would never touch a guest of Rockland’s. You have my word.”
I hold his gaze, judging his sincerity. Satisfied, I release him.
Felicity is at the table, playing cards and drinking tea with Sophia. She tosses her head back, laughing at something Sophia’s said and the sound of her laughter strikes my heart. I don’t want to miss even a moment with her.
I call her to me before I leave. “Felicity. Come here.”
Hearing my cool tone, she looks over, slightly wary of me. But she obeys.
I take her in my arms, sliding a hand into her hair, bringing her ear to my mouth. “Do not take one step outside of this house unless you want my belt striping your ass.”
A little shiver runs through her and it makes my cock twitch in my trousers as I hold her closer to me.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” She speaks with sass as if to hold some shred of control.
I won’t have it. She’s too important to me. I have to know she will obey. I slide my hand down to her neck, cupping it with gentle pressure. “Do not leave this house. Do you understand? Yes, sir?”
She gives a little gasp. “Yes, sir.”
I pull her to me, kissing her lips, hard and punishing, thrusting my tongue between her lips, claiming her as mine.
I release her, enjoying the flush in her cheeks. The shine in her eyes. She turns to leave me without a goodbye.
At the last moment, she changes her mind, turning back to me. She comes, placing a hand on my shoulder and stretching up on the tips of her toes to brush her lips against my cheek. “Be safe.” She returns to her card game.
Leaving my heart expanding in my chest.
Rockland and I investigate their armory. True to his word, he shares his secrets. I push just a bit more and extend our tour into a shopping spree. He’s more than generous and before we finish our day, we have made a half million dollar purchase from him, with crates packed and ready to ship to Italy. Within a few weeks, the Russo family will have a store of arms below our castle. I’m grateful for the partnership.
I show my gratitude, in gold.
When the sun sets and my workday is done, I’m eager to return to Felicity. I reach the house to find the women safe and happy, doing one another’s hair and makeup as they prepare for the evening. I greet Felicity with a kiss, then leave them so I can shower and dress in the black tux I brought for the occasion. The Bachmans share the Russo’s deep love of entertaining and tonight, they’re hosting a black tie event, dinner and dancing, to welcome us and to return the hospitality from when we hosted them at our castle.
We enter the white stone mansion, greeted by flocks of women, surrounding us in a cloud of perfume: The Beauties. They’re aptly named, a dizzying array of flawlessly polished women, dressed in couture that’s been tailored to fit their curves perfectly.
And yet…
It this sea of elegant faces, only one catches my eye.
My wife’s.
Felicity’s beautiful golden green eyes sparkle, her cheeks pink from the excitement of the evening. She wears a deep blue gown, cut low across her chest. The silky material hugs her sublime curves. The color is stunning on her, enhanced by her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. My chest wells with pride as I link my arm around hers.
The women tear her away too soon, to whisper and gossip, wanting to get to know the queen of the Russo family. I join Rockland and our men on the veranda for cigars and bourbon.
Even I must admit the Bachmans ability to throw a memorable soiree rivals our own. Waitstaff dressed in black carry trays of cut crystal flutes of Cristal. Others serve delightful morsels of seasoned seafood from paper napkins, the flavors bursting in your mouth. The breeze off the ocean caressing your skin.
An orchestra has been flown in for the evening, providing classical music for dancing.
Handsome couples twirl across the floor.
I want to dance with my bride.
Scanning the room for her, I find her in a quiet corner, whispering with Esme. They cover their mouths with their hands, giggling at their conversation. I cross the room to them.
I interrupt their conversation with the clearing of my throat. “Good evening, ladies. Are you having a nice time?”
“Oh, yes! I was just telling Felicity it was everything I dreamed it would be.” Esme looks up to me with an ever-trusting gaze, smiling openly at me.
My wife gazes at me with her perpetually suspicious look. As if she hasn’t quite figured out where she stands with me, or how I feel about her. “Hello, Vincent.”
“May I have this dance?” I hold my hand out to her. An offering of my affection.
Esme covers her mouth, letting out a giggle. A look crosses Felicities face, one I can’t quite read, a flash somewhere between uncertainty and desire.
“Of course, husband.” She places her hand in mine. It’s warm. As she rises from her seat, a hint of her perfume reaches me. It’s not one I’ve purchased for her, but one I am familiar with.
She wore it that afternoon I went to her father’s shop to make the arrangements for her hand.
It makes me feel…nostalgic.
It makes me remember the very first time I laid eyes on her. I push the memory from my mind.
I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her body close to mine.
Twine my fingers into hers.
As we glide across the floor, I don’t miss the flush in her cheeks, the peak of her nipple beneath the thin silk of her dress.
She wants me as I want her.
I must have her. Now.
I still our bodies, my hand slipping from her lower back. “Come.” I take her hand, leading her from the hall.
“Where?” She glances over her shoulder as we leave the room to see if anyone watches us as we leave. “Where are we going?”
“To the ocean.” We step out into the star filled night, the salty breeze caressing our faces. She kicks off her heels. I slip off my shoes. Hand in hand, we walk barefoot across the white, moonlit sand.
The music floats into the night, through the opened doors of the balconies.
Our own private dance floor.
I take her in my arms, the moonlight glinting off the waves of the ocean as our backdrop. And we dance.
I study the curves of her face, the light in her eyes. Her full lips call to me, tempting me. I lean down to kiss her.
Her eyes close and she accepts my intrusion. Kissing me back.
There’s an unfamiliar energy that passes between us. L
ust, desire, those are always there when we touch. But now, in this kiss, there’s something more.
Something that feels like trust.
Almost like…love.
It’s too much. I pull away. Her gaze rises to meet mine.
She wants more.
Dare I dive into this moment, further giving her my heart, my soul? Risk losing this battle?
One that suddenly feels like I’m only fighting against myself.
I want her in a way I’ve never wanted another woman before. I want my soul twined to hers, I want to be the first thing on her mind in the morning, my name the last word on her lips at night. Am I foolish, to think like this?
Am I growing soft?
Or am I simply a man who’s realized he’s been blessed with the most extraordinary woman for his wife? I decide it doesn’t matter. We are here in this moment and I’m going to give into it. I slide my hand behind her head, pulling her close. I kiss her again, this time with urgency, my tongue tasting her. Wanting all of her.
Our bodies tangled, we move to the cover of fallen tree, an enormous trunk of driftwood separating us from the mansion full of people, lying in the sand in our fine clothing.
“I need you. Now.” I kiss her neck, the tops of her breasts. I grab at the material of her dress, tugging it upward over her smooth thighs.
Her hands are in my hair, fingernails running down my back. Her gaze catches mine. “I need you, too.”
I cover her mouth with mine, kissing our words away. I find the waistband of her silk thong, tug it down and out of the way. She lifts her legs, ridding herself of them.
Gliding beneath her dress. I slide my hand over the soft smooth skin of her belly. She trembles beneath my touch. I inch lower, lower. She lets out a sigh as I slip my fingers into her.
Her sex is slick with arousal. I pleasure her, slowly trailing circles around her swollen bud with my lubricated fingertip. My tongue makes the same motion in her mouth. Connecting me to her in both places.
But now, now I need to be inside of her. I break our kiss only just long enough to free my cock from my trousers. I slide my hands beneath her bare buttocks. Her legs spread for me.
When I enter her, it’s with more than desire for climax. For more than just release.
It’s with the intention of connecting myself to her. Of entwining our souls along with our bodies.
Of becoming one.
I hold her gaze as I enter her. Moving slowly, filling her with me. Letting her feel every inch as our bodies meld.
“I…I didn’t know I could feel this way…” Her words trail off as tears form in the corners of her eyes. She goes to wipe them away, to hide them from me.
“Neither did I.” I want all of her. Pushing her hand away, I lean down, collecting her tears with my kisses. Those tears were for me, they are mine.
I move to her mouth, sharing the salty taste between us.
Our bodies rock together, grains of sand covering our clothes, clinging to our damp skin.
We come together, holding tight to one another.
Leaving me feeling more grounded than ever, yet shaken to my core.
Leaving me with the desperate knowledge that I’m falling, hard, for this woman.
My wife.
The rest of the week is a whirlwind. I rise early, joining Rockland and making arrangement for the shipments of arms to be sent to Italy. The evenings are spent dining and drinking and dancing, then Felicity and I tangled in our bed, her falling asleep in my arms.
I take our last day to relax with my bride, joining Felicity on the Bachman’s yacht, the Aphrodite, for a day of yachting and swimming.
I’m getting ready to change into my trunks, but first I want to kiss my bride good morning.
I run into Sophia, ask her where I can find my wife. She gives me a look over the top of her glasses. “She’s on the sundeck. You’re not going to like it.” She scurries away before I can question her.
Uneasiness settles in my gut. Sophia knows me well, better than anyone. What am I not going to like? I reach the top of the stairs. And spot Felicity.
All of Felicity.
Her tanned body lays out over the chaise.
She’s wearing a tiny black string bikini. Her curves exposed. For every man here to see.
Some of the younger, single Bachman brothers who haven’t yet learned the danger of staring at another man’s wife are leaning against the railing. Their casual gazes dance over her toned legs. The swell of her proud breasts.
Fury rises in my chest.
“Get the hell out of here.” I brush roughly past them, dismissing them. “Don’t you have work to do?” They scatter.
I’m over to her in two strides.
Grabbing her hand, I tug her from the chaise where she lounges. “Come with me. Wife.”
“Oomph! What are you doing?” She’s taken off her sunglasses, swatting at me with them as I pull her through the main salon of the boat. “Vincent, what has gotten into you?”
I’ve got her halfway to our room before I respond. Tugging her into a private cove in the hall, I grab her chin, bringing her face inches from mine. My words are venom. “What’s gotten into me?”
“What the fuck, Vincent? What’s got you acting like more of an asshole than usual?” She holds my gaze. She doesn’t back down.
Not yet.
But I’ll make sure she does.
She gives me a little swat on my shoulder. “Yes. That’s what I said.”
I slip the tip of my finger beneath the thin, barely-there strap that holds her top on. “This is what’s gotten into me. What do you call this—thing—you wear?”
“It’s called a bikini, Vincent. It was a gift. Hannah brought it for me from their store in New York. Daughtry’s Clothing.”
“I call it a silly scrap of fabric.” I snap the string. Take my finger and follow it down to the small triangle that barely covers her full breast. Run my fingertip over the silky fabric. Feel the hard nub of her rousing nipple under my flesh. “And my opinion is the only one that matters.”
“How dare you—”
I cut her words off, taking her sensitive bud between my forefinger and thumb, giving it a hard squeeze. She gives a gasp, shock and a hint of desire flash in her eyes.
The desire is quickly overcome with anger. “You’re an asshole, Vincent Russo.”
She tries to leave. I grab her shoulder, pinning her to the wall. “Call me another name and you’ll find yourself over my lap, getting a taste of my belt.”
“You are— “
“Careful, my Bella.” My hand slides down her belly. Over her silky bikini bottoms. Cupping her mound in my palm. “Or my leather will be striping your ass.”
“You are,” she fights me with every breath, finishing her foolish declaration, “An. Ass.”
“You were warned.” I grab her hand, tug her down the hall, into our room, slamming the door behind her. I’m over to our bed in two long strides. She fights me, clawing and shrieking, but I easily overpower her. “Time for you to feel your husband’s belt across your ass.”
I sit down on the bed, pulling my conquest over my lap. Her legs kick. I spread my thighs, locking her legs against me with one of my own. Her hands swat at me. I take them, circling her wrists and clamping them in the cuff of one of my hands.
I pin them to her lower back. Just above the waistline of that ridiculous suit. It’s cut high in the back to show off the glorious curves of her ass.
It’s cut to draw the eye to her body. “What you’ve put on display today is for my eyes only.” With one tug, I’ve undone the strings that meet at the center of her back and neck.
Her chest pushed into the bed, she struggles to turn to face me. “I’ll wear what I want. You don’t own me.”
“Contrary to your modern feminist beliefs, I am your husband. Your body is for my eyes only. Did you not vow to obey me?” I bring my hand down on her ass, hard and true, giving it a perfect stinging smack.
“Ow!
That is not what being a husband means, telling your wife what she can wear. Not at all!”
“To me it does and in this marriage, that’s the only interpretation we need.” I give her ass another smack. Her hips wriggle to get away. I’ve got her locked tight, though—she’s got no chance.
She gives a squeak of protest. “Didn’t you promise to care for me? I hardly call this caring for your woman.”
“This is how I care for my woman. Punishing her when she chooses to disobey me.” I give her ass another smack.
She howls in pain and anger. “You never said I couldn’t wear a bikini!”
“I shouldn’t have to. Look at this thing. I can see everything in it. The outline of your nipples. The cleft of your ass.” I run a finger down the crease of her buttocks, sliding over the silky material.
She lets out a low moan.
I give her ass several more hard spanks. Right, then left, leaving a red handprint on the curves of skin that’s exposed.
Curves that will not make another public reappearance. I tug the suit down, moving my vise-like leg only long enough to pull them down to her knees, exposing her bare bottom.
“Vincent! Don’t!”
I run a hand over her smooth skin. It’s warm to the touch where I’ve left my mark. I raise my hand, pause in the air, hovering just over her bottom. “Tell me you won’t wear such a thing again, unless its intended for my pleasure, and mine alone.”
Her voice is a whimper. “I just thought it was cute. I wanted a tan—”
“Wrong answer.” I bring my hand down, spanking her ass.
She lets out another moan. I spank her again. And again. She wriggles and fights against me.
She’s not yet convinced of who’s in charge here.
Time for my belt.
“I’m going to release your wrists. Unpin your leg. And you’re going to lay your beautiful, naked body over the edge of this bed and take my belt.”
“Like hell I will!” She tugs her arms.
Leaning down, I bring my mouth by her ear. “You will. Or I’ll take you back out to the sundeck, and do it there.”
Dark Crown: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Russo Royals Book 1) Page 9