I'm floored. This home is much larger and grander than Avanti's, and I was completely intimidated by the smaller building. I can't believe this is supposed to be my home. A thought strikes me, and it slips past my lips. "I'll finally have a bed."
"What?"
"Nothing.” I pale, hating that I said that loud enough for him to hear.
"That's not fucking nothing. Are you saying that you didn't have a bed at home?" His brows arch while his face hardens.
I blush, feeling completely embarrassed. "Don't be ashamed. You have nothing to be ashamed about." He growls something to himself, and I sense that he's upset for me. Finally, the vehicle comes to a stop in front of the grand entrance. Strangely, a sense of coming home hits me.
5
Victor
The bastard that I am, I’ve given her no choice—but then again, I did back in the room before I took her virginity. The choice wasn’t a real one: life with me, or life being trapped in the grasp of her sick father after giving her pussy to some old married bastard. I had no intention of letting that happen because I would have snatched her up either way, but for some fucking reason, marking her as mine became a must, and my sweet girl wanted it. Her body lit up for me like a Christmas tree. But her father will be dealt with. I will gut that fucker myself.
No one is allowed to do anything to harm my little Dove. Fuck, I hate the way I need her so much. It’s blinding and dangerous because my enemies will have a precious new target to aim for, and I refuse to give them an opportunity to strike. Seeing her happy became my mission, but I’m not even sure how to do it after how we met and the fact that I’ve never wanted to please a woman in this way before. My body aches to carry her back to bed, but it’s too soon.
I want to snap at the fact that she's been so fucking deprived that it's a crime. Her father was anything but what a real father should be. At least I had my mother's love to make up for my father's neglect, and we never went without. Where was her mother this whole time?
"Dove, what happened to your mother?"
"When I was six, she fell ill and died of cancer, leaving me with my father who suddenly wanted his freedom, but I was his little burden."
"I’m sorry about your mother.” I can’t imagine losing my mother. “I'm surprised he didn't toss you in a foster home or something."
"There was money to be had. My mother's life insurance and family inheritance was left to take care of me. He managed to blow through every dollar and then some, and that's how I ended up as a commodity." Fuck, it kills me how much she hates me. How will I ever get her past how we met? Hell, I hate myself for it as well.
“Come, we are home.” I take her hand, intertwining our fingers, and lead her out of the back of the SUV. I might not be a known criminal, but I’ve learned to ride the line often enough and even dip my foot into the cesspool. I’ll be burying bodies pretty soon, though. No one gets away with treating my bride like that.
“Wow, this is bigger than the home we met at. Please don’t tell me you host parties like that.” She drops her chin and narrows her eyes with a look of revulsion.
“I don’t host any parties, and especially of such disgusting design. But we will have one to celebrate our marriage here.” I lead her to where several of my staff members are waiting to greet us, but I get an uneasy feeling of territoriality so strong that I change my plans. She’s hardly dressed for people.
Maria, my housekeeper of six years, approaches. “Señor Serrano, welcome home.” She’s a good woman, unlike the last housekeeper. When my father died, I brought in an all-new staff, including Maria. I look at the row of staff members and remember that my wife is half naked; instantly a twinge of jealousy stabs me between the eyes.
“Gracias, María. This is my wife, Dove Serrano. You all will address her as Señora Serrano or Mrs. Serrano. Do not disappoint me. We shall be down in the morning. Excuse us.” I’m never this terse or abrupt unless there’s a major issue that has me running out of the house. I squeeze my wife’s hand and lead her past all of them and up the marble stairs. I had planned on introducing her to the head staff members, but then I realize three of them are men and I want to rip their eyes out. Now, all I want to do is mark her with my seed again so everyone knows that she’s mine.
I should be giving her a tour of her new home, but it’s late and I can’t think straight with her body in only my shirt. We enter our bedroom because now I want to forgo everything but owning her body. I release her hand just long enough for her to walk into the center of the room while I lock the door, leaning my back on it while staring at her.
Dove’s eyes widen as she takes in our massive California King that I plan to worship her naked body on as often as possible. Sensing my focus on her, she spins, sitting on the edge of the bed, which doesn’t help my cause. My dick throbs painfully against the zipper of my slacks. I reach down and adjust myself to relieve the pressure.
“Victor, why are you staring at me like that?” She knows damn well why I’m staring at her and what it means.
“I can stare at my wife any way I please. This is our bedroom where you will most definitely see this look every night.”
“Every night?” There’s a sexy innocence and yet a hint of playful desire in her words. She bites on her bottom lip gently, making my dick harder than it was. Suddenly, it’s not just to prove I own her to the entire house, but because I need her. It will probably pass soon; however, until it does, I’ll do all I can to get inside her.
“Dove,” I growl, pulling her to me. “I need to be inside you.” I can’t hide my longing for her. Lust flares in her eyes as I cup her ass and let her feel my raging need. “See what you do to me?”
“The feeling’s mutual,” she moans.
“We’ll see.” I reach around and slide my fingers up her thighs, and just like she said, her pussy is soaked for me. She whimpers around my thumb, and I worry that I’ve hurt her. “Are you okay?”
“It hurts. I need you to make it go away.” She shakes as I test her hardened bud. Her body hums under my fingers, demanding more. “Victor, give it to me. I need your touch.”
“Always, my little Dove.”
I drag my tongue along the smooth skin of her neck, grazing my teeth over her pulse. The way she whimpers in my embrace is the stuff men kill for. I'd kill anyone who dares come between us. Swiping across her flesh and then biting lightly, I feel her heartbeat pick up. "Victor." The little plea goes straight to my balls with precision. My queen needs more. She may hate me, but her body doesn't. I'll use everything I can to tame her until she's as docile as a kitten in my arms. I spin her so her ass presses on my cock and my hands run down her middle, lifting my shirt up her legs, revealing the tiny lace panties that I both hate and love at the same time. "Do you want to come for me, mi reina?"
She nods, and I give her a hard slap on her bare pussy. "I didn't hear you."
"Yes, Victor. I want to come," she hums, laying her head on my shoulder.
"What a good wife." I kiss her neck, sucking and marking her skin because I'm a territorial motherfucker with men eager to take what belongs to me all the time. No one will get their hands on my woman. Never.
I pat her folds, loving the sound her wet cunt makes. The sounds we make could be recorded and made album of the year, but I'd never let anyone hear my queen. That sweet melody is just for me.
"I want you ready for me. I want you so close because I’m going to come the second I'm deep inside of you," I breathe out against the shell of her ear.
"Please." I slip a finger into her just enough to feel her lurch forward and pop her ass back, and then I pull them out and suck her sweetness off my fingers. "Viva la reina," I whisper, scooping her up and laying her down on our bed. This is where I should have taken her the first time—devouring her body until she doesn't want to leave and then losing myself deep inside, breeding her, filling her with my heir on our sheets.
I tug at my shirt buttons, hating how long it's taking. Finally able to pull my sh
irt up over my head, I drop down to kiss her lips. They're soft, plump, eager to feel mine. Her hands slide into my hair, pulling my face closer, moaning as our tongues clash, fighting for our next taste. I have to have more of her honey on my tongue, whipping her pussy into a frenzy before I give her another load. My hand follows my lips as I lick and feel my way to her little slit. It's wet and puffy, waiting for me to give it what it needs. I don't know who's hungrier, but it's my turn to feast. Parting her thighs, I grip her legs and rest them on my shoulders, licking her seam. She moans as I jut my tongue into her wetness, lapping up her cream.
As she shatters and shakes, I rise up and slide into her tight slit, claiming her womb again. I could live inside her sweet depths. I drag myself out and then plunge forward, stretching her. Leaning down, I swipe my tongue across her lips. When she parts them, I thrust it in and deepen the kiss until we’re both too worked up, then I trail my mouth along the column of her neck, sucking and nipping on her heated skin. My muscles tense as I start to lose control. “Dove, I need you to come again so I can fill you up with our baby. I want you to cream on my cock. You’re going to be a good wife and come, right?”
“Yes,” she moans, her nails raking down my back with a pleasurable sting. I growl and take her in a rough kiss, grinding her into the mattress until she screams my name and then I follow her over. Huffing, I pull out of my wife and roll onto my back, lifting her on top of me.
“Time to sleep, mi epsosa.” My heart pounds as I hold her close, breathing in her scent and listening to her as she falls asleep. In the middle of the night, she straddles my hard cock and I lift her up to ride me. Several times we wake up and have sex throughout the night until the sun comes up. I don’t know who starts each round, but I make sure to finish them. I need a shower and to get some food in our bellies before I take her again. Maybe I should let her pussy get some rest. I lay there catching my breath, wondering what I should say to her. How can I tell her that this is so much more than sex and a baby? How can I get her to forgive how we met? The sound of my phone breaks through my thoughts.
6
Dove
It’s morning as we come down from a fantastic high, lying back catching our breath, panting heavily. I love the way he makes my body sing even though every inch aches. It’s tender and completely used up, and yet the man still makes me want more. Victor’s the epitome of a virile male with the talent to please sexually. I ignore the reason I’m here and enjoy the pleasure he’s giving me.
I’m covered in sweat and a sheet as Victor lies on his back, looking up at the ceiling without saying a word. His phone rings in his jacket on the floor. He’s out of the bed and digging it from his pocket to find he missed the call, but he doesn’t skip a beat and calls it right back while walking to the bathroom with the phone to his ear as if he wants to make sure I don’t hear his conversation. Again.
A couple of minutes later I hear the shower, drilling home my place in his life. I’m his supposed wife so he can have an heir, warming his bed every night and ignoring me the rest of the day. Will we legally get married, or is this just a front? Who was the person who called him?
Who is Victor Serrano?
I know only a few things about the man who has trapped me in his castle of sorts. For one thing, he creates a wall between us the second he pulls out of me. He has some dealings with the wrong kind of people. He got me all the way to Spain without an ounce of trouble. He wants me to have his babies, but he bought me, which probably bothers me more than anything else. Does he usually buy women? Are prostitutes his kick?
He steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. God, even though he’s a total bastard, I can’t take my eyes away from his pure sexual being. It pulls me in every time I look at him. As upset I am with him, I’d part my thighs if he asked. Why?
He stares at me with a smirk and then drops his towel. His cock bounces, hard as hell, as if we didn’t just have sex. I know he came because I can feel it, but wow. I’m surprised and aroused, and I shouldn’t be. “Not right now, mi esposa. Go take a shower. My mother is coming today. You will not tell her how we met, and you will do your best to behave and act like my wife.”
I narrow my brows at him, glaring as best as I can before composing myself. With my father, I always kept it under control, but I’m guessing Victor brings it out of me. Standing up, I let the sheet fall as if I don’t have a care in the world. With a lift of my chin, I say. “Okay. She doesn’t know that you pay for sex?”
I saunter past him, but he quickly grips my bicep and spins me to face him. His dark eyes return the glare, and he growls with a warning, “If you say that again, I’ll keep your ass locked up in here. Are you going to behave?”
“Of course. I don’t want to be embarrassed either. I’m sure she’d love that I sold myself to the highest bidder. So, husband, how did we meet? When did we marry?”
He growls again, releasing his grip on my arm. “We met while I was on business, which is true. We married outside the plane before we flew home.”
“How am I supposed to lie? We’re not married.”
“We are most certainly married.” He pulls out his phone, opens an app, and shows me my signature on a paper next to his and others. It’s a marriage certificate. “See, my wife? Now—my mother is sick, so do not upset her at all. I mean that.”
“I’m not mean to most people. I’ll save my attitude for those who deserve it. Also, husband, what about some clothes? Did you pick up my belongings before while I was unconscious, or should I wear your shirts?”
“As much as I’d like to see you in just my shirt, that won’t do. I ordered clothes for you while we were flying, and my housekeeper had them brought up and put away.” He walks over to two double doors and opens them to reveal a large walk-in closet. One side is his suits, and the other is full of women’s clothes.
“Are these all for me?” There are so many beautiful things that I don’t know how to feel.
“You are my wife. No one else’s belongings should be in here. Please try on anything you’d like.” I run my fingers over the soft material of the gowns, wondering if he wants his own personal Barbie doll.
“Most of these are too fancy. Or, am I going to have to dress like this all the time?”
“Right now, you’re fucking naked, and as sexy as that is, you’ll have to wear clothes, so pull open those drawers,” he growls, staring at my naked body. His dick jerks under my own perusal of him. “Stop staring at the motherfucker or I’ll give you a much closer look,” he growls out. How the hell is that so sexy?
I huff and turn my head, pretending to be offended when really I’m tempted to drop to my knees and suck on his huge cock. I open the drawers to my own amazement. There are plain tees and jeans and a drawer of plain white socks. “Oh. Wow.” I turn to him, gasp, and look back at the drawer and then back at him.
“I thought you’d like some comfortable clothes as well. I know this is an adjustment, but if there’s something you need, please just ask.”
I give him a smile, which shocks him. “Thank you. I’ll get ready right now.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Dove. I am your husband and should provide you with these things. I’ll finish dressing and wait for you.”
“You don’t have to wait for me.”
“I said I will wait.” There’s no arguing with him because I already know that he’s unmovable.
“Fine.” I move past him, brushing my hip against his intentionally.
I'm insanely bold when it comes to him, but somehow, it's because I know I can be. He wants me at his side, but I think it's only until we have babies and then I'll be pushed to the side and become a nanny while he’ll keep mistresses galore.
A part of me aches to be bold enough to ask if there's anything other than sex between us, but that's so stupid and naïve of me. Come on, Dove. Showing your age, aren't you?
I turn on the shower and let it warm up while I pee and wash my hands. After reading a
Cosmo book at the doctor's office, I remember it says to do that after sex so you don't get an infection. I can't imagine he'd be pleased if I got an infection. I hope it's not too late. We passed out after our incredible round of orgasms. I'll give the bastard that. He's an incredible lover. Well, at least until he's done coming. As I look in the mirror, I notice the markings on my pale skin. There are several red spots along with two hickeys. I do my best not to giggle. He's marked me like a teenage boy would his girlfriend. Will he always be so animalistic and territorial?
Get your head out of the clouds and be happy with what you have. A nice warm bed with a sex god and a roof over your head. It's more than I expected out of life less than twelve hours ago. I test the water and it's perfect, so I climb in and sigh as the heat soothes my tender skin.
I see a bunch of female products on the shower rack. It's clear that they're all brand new, which makes me happy. He truly went all out to get this stuff here in time. Did he plan to pick a wife when he left? A virgin sale would be a great place to pick a good girl who hasn't been tainted in his eyes by another man.
Ugh, I bet he's had hundreds of lovers over the years. Don't go there, girl. You'll only upset yourself and he's not worth it.
I ignore all thoughts of him and wash up quickly. In my rush, I accidentally used his body wash. Oops. Oh well, I'm not going to rewash. I'm sure he's impatiently waiting for me out there.
I tilt my head back and rinse out the conditioner and then rinse my body. I reach out and grab one of the towels and moan against the plush, warm material. These are by far the nicest towels I've ever felt. Damn, things are already a lot better than home. It's not perfect, but I could get used to this—even if I’m trapped in a loveless marriage to a mobster.
I dry my body off in the bathroom so he doesn’t see me change. I’m not sure why I’m feeling suddenly self-conscious; the man has seen me naked in every single way, he’s tasted my body, possessed it. Once I’ve slipped on the perfectly fitted clothes, I wrap my hair up again and step back into the bedroom. I’m surprised at the picture in front of me. Victor’s not in a suit. I lick my lips, hoping that I get this casual look more often.
Stolen Dove: Stolen Hearts Series Page 7