by Bianca Cole
Jackson’s brow furrows. “Where is she?” he asks.
“She went on into the ballroom, I believe.” I glance in that direction. “I best go and find her.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but I walk away before he can. The guy is irritating, and I know it will look weird that I’m not by my bride’s side. Not to mention, I haven’t filled her in on our cover story. Hopefully, she hasn’t had conversations with anyone important.
I walk toward the ballroom, searching for my wife. Aida stands to one side, talking to Michael King, a young and rich businessman renowned for hitting on everyone else’s wives.
Rage slams into me as he gently places his hand on her arm. I won’t stand for another asshole making me look a fool on my wedding day.
My attention remains fixed on the two of them as I approach. The moment Michael notices me, he steps away from my wife. “Milo, I was getting to know your new wife.” There’s a glint in his eyes that makes me want to knock him out right here in front of everyone.
I slide my arm around her waist and pull her close. “I’d stay away from other people’s wives if I were you, Michael. You know what happened the last time.”
Michael laughs as if I’m joking. If he only knew the kinds of things that I’d do to him if he ever placed a hand on my wife, he would run. “I’m only talking to your bride, Milo. There’s no need to get defensive.”
I stare at him with a cold glare. “Talk to someone else. I need a moment with my wife.”
He holds his hands up. “Fine. It was nice to meet you, Aida.” He walks away, glancing back at Aida briefly.
“That guy is a creep,” Aida says, watching after him too.
“Did he touch you?”
Aida’s brow furrows as she meets my gaze. “What does it matter if he did?”
I growl softly and pull her close, angling her chin upward. “I’d kill him if he did. If any man other than me ever lays a fucking hand on you, I’ll kill them. Do you understand?”
She pales slightly at the intensity in the sentiment. I’m not sure whether it’s a sentiment entirely driven by possession. All I know is that the thought of another man going near her drives me insane. “Yes, sir,” she says quietly.
It’s the first time she has willingly addressed me like that, and all my blood rushes south in response. “Good girl,” I purr into her ear before kissing a path across her jaw to her lips. “I can’t wait to show you what you’ve been missing, little virgin,” I whisper, biting the lobe of her ear. “I bet you’re so wet thinking about it.”
She pushes me away, glaring at me with that fiery hate. “You’re a pig,” she says, only loud enough for me to hear. The woman is smart. She knows not to make a scene in front of these guests.
I smirk at her. “I know you want me. There’s no use denying it.”
Someone clears their throat behind us, drawing my attention. “Milo, I believe congratulations are in order,” the mayor, Thomas Allinson, says.
I straighten my posture and slip my hand onto Aida’s back. “Thank you, Thomas. May I introduce you to my wife, Aida.”
He smiles at her and takes her hand, shaking softly. “It’s lovely to meet you, Aida.” He glances at me. “Odd to be meeting her as your wife for the first time, though.”
I shrug. “We fell in love on my trip to Sicily two months ago, and we couldn’t wait to make it official. I’m sorry we didn’t do introductions sooner.”
Aida tenses against me as I start to mention our backstory. A story I’ve yet to fill her in on.
He waves a hand. “These things happen.” Patricia approaches, her eyes fixed on me as they always are. She’s tried to get me to fuck her on numerous occasions, but I avoided her advances.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
I smile at her. “I was introducing your husband to my new wife, Aida.” I glance at Aida, who looks uncomfortable as Patricia glares at her like the jealous bitch she is.
“Oh, wonderful to meet you,” she says with absolutely no sincerity. “Shame we couldn’t have attended the ceremony.”
Thomas nods. “Yes, I’m sure you could have had space for the mayor and his wife.”
I grit my teeth. “We both wanted a small and intimate ceremony with just family and close friends.” I level my gaze at Michael. “I’m sure you can understand the desire for privacy with the public life you lead.”
Thomas laughs. “You always are so private, aren’t you, Milo?” He shrugs. “Never mind. We’re glad we could come and celebrate with you at least.” Thomas lifts his glass and clinks it against mine as I stare at the snake that runs this city.
It’s pathetic how blind and stupid they are. “Yes, thank you for coming,” I reply, tightening my grip on Aida’s hip. “We must greet our other guests.”
Thomas nods. “Of course.”
I guide Aida away from him, knowing that spending too long in his presence is never a good idea. Thomas is too curious about my businesses and operations in the city. I know he doesn’t suspect who I am, but he doesn’t like that I’m so private.
“That’s the story we are telling people?” Aida asks only loud enough for me to hear.
I glance at her. “Yes, we met two months ago in Sicily. Plain and simple.”
Aida raises a brow. “How did we meet?”
I clench my jaw. “We don’t need specifics.”
Aida shakes her head. “You realize that’s one of the most common questions anyone asks. They want the story of how the couple met.”
I yank her forcefully into a small nook of the ballroom, away from prying eyes and big ears. “Stop questioning me, Aida.”
She meets my gaze with that fire that makes me want to strip her down and fuck her right here in the middle of our reception. “I don’t want to get anything wrong.”
I breathe deeply and nod. “Fine. We met through your father, who was an acquaintance at a party I was invited to. Once we were introduced, it was clear we felt something for each other, and the rest was history.”
Aida looks a little bemused that I answered her. “Okay.”
I dig my fingertips into her hips hard. “Okay, what?” I ask.
The tip of her tongue darts out over her luscious pink lips, drawing my attention to them. “Okay, sir.”
I shake my head. “We’re alone, princess. I want to hear you say it.”
Her cheeks flush a deep red, and she glares at me with a dark hatred. A hatred that stirs more desire inside of me than it should. “No. You said when we’re alone, and we’re not alone.” She shakes her head. “We’re in a room with about five hundred other people, for fuck’s sake.”
I grab her throat hard enough to warn her I’m serious and tease my lips along the edge of her jaw. “Remember what happens to naughty girls that don’t obey. I won’t hesitate in punishing you right here where everyone can hear you cry.”
Aida shudders against me, eyes dilating as she meets my gaze. Every time I assert my dominance over her, she gets turned on. “Okay, daddy,” she says with a sultry tone to her voice that makes my cock harder.
I let go of her throat and grab her hand, forcing it over the crotch of my pants. “Good girl. Daddy is so hard for you, princess.”
She tries to pull her hand off my cock, but I hold it there.
“So hard and ready to fuck that pretty little virgin cunt of yours,” I purr into her ear softly before allowing her to let go of my cock. “Now come and be a good little wife and help me greet our guests.”
She glares at me, but there’s desire as well as hate in her gaze. There’s a longing in them—a longing for my cock deep inside of her.
It won’t be long now. By the end of the day, she will no longer be a virgin but my submissive little slut to do whatever I want with, whenever I want.
9
Aida
“We’d like the happy couple on the dance floor for their first dance,” someone says over the microphone, making my stomach churn.
The happy couple is the most laughable thing I’ve heard all day. The thought of dancing with that man in front of these people makes me feel sick.
My heart rate picks up as Milo stalks across the room toward me. His eyes are pinned to me as I try not to meet his gaze. He slips his hand onto my lower back and leans toward my ear. “Time to make our relationship believable, angel.”
I hate him calling me angel, but what I hate more is the way my thighs quiver when he does. It’s as though I have no control over my urges—urges that make no sense. Milo has been an asshole to me since I arrived. He’s the last man on this earth I should want, and yet a dark, twisted part of me wants him to take me roughly despite my pleas for him to stop.
“Unfortunately, that’s virtually impossible,” I reply.
Milo shakes his head. “Bullshit. I know how badly you want me.”
His cockiness makes my skin crawl as I try to fight the conflicting feelings raging inside of me. “Let’s get this over and done with,” I mutter.
Milo leads me onto the dance floor of the vast ballroom in front of the hundreds of guests. The band starts to play a traditional Italian song. “Follow my lead.”
I blink at him one before he whisks me into the tango suddenly. My heart skips a beat as I miss my step and stand on his foot.
He doesn’t bat an eyelid, continuing through the moves as if he was born to dance—a skill I never expected him to have.
I fall into step, matching his moves. My father paid for my dance classes for years, but he never let me go out dancing with my friends. This is the first time my skills have been put to use.
Milo holds my gaze as we dance with an intensity that could boil my blood. Trust him to choose the most passionate dance. He moves with elegance as his dark gaze burns a hole into my soul.
It’s hard to draw breath into my lungs as he spins me around and pulls me into his body, swaying me to the music. The hard press of his cock evident in his suit pants against my ass. A blazing hot heat sweeps through my body as desire pools between my thighs. Milo’s hand teases down the side of my body and then back up again before he spins me around to face him.
It’s as though we’re the only two people in the room. My anxiety over being watched melts away. My husband guides me without hesitation across the dance floor, never once missing a step. It’s irritating that part of me wants to give in to the dark desire buried within. The part of me that wants Milo to take my virginity tonight with no mercy, tying me down if he wants. Not that I’d admit that out loud to him.
Milo pulls me close, wrapping his leg around mine in a way that presses me harder into him. He lingers in this position for a few beats longer than he should, whispering into my ear. “I’m going to dip you to finish. Brace yourself, angel.”
I find it odd that I trust him to dip me or lift me during this dance. The way he holds me promises he won’t let me go, even if he will take pleasure in hurting me later. The music crescendos and I wrap my leg around him as he dips me down, holding my weight as I arch toward the floor.
The guests erupt into cheering the moment the music stops.
Milo pulls me close to him. Both of us breathe heavily as we stare into each other’s eyes. “I can’t wait to tango with you in the bedroom, angel,” he murmurs, kissing my lips hard.
I tense initially on instinct, but the six glasses of champagne I’ve drunk since I arrived at the reception have lowered my inhibitions. Milo’s tongue delves into my mouth—demanding submission from me.
I give in to him, leaning closer as his tongue plunders every inch of my mouth. He’s like a beast devouring me in front of our guests. Milo doesn’t care who is watching. His fingers dip into my hips hard enough to bruise as the passion in his kiss increases.
I hate this man, but I want him all at the same time. It makes no sense. He bent me over that dining table and ignored my half-hearted pleas for him to stop. Deep down, I didn’t want him to stop. Everything he did to me felt so good, even the punishment he gave me within minutes of getting me into his home.
Milo breaks the kiss, and I’m panting for air. His ice-blue eyes are blazing with an animalistic need—a need that scares me. My husband is a beast, and he’s going to devour me tonight. I can see it in his eyes.
My stomach clenches at the thought. The brief encounters I’ve had with Milo have been rough. I get the sense that he was holding back on both occasions, which doesn’t bode well.
“It’s time we departed on our honeymoon,” Milo mutters into my ear.
I swallow hard. “Honeymoon?”
He smirks at me. “Of course, it would look a little strange if a man as rich as me didn’t sweep his new wife away on a fancy honeymoon, wouldn’t it?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I know nothing about you.” It’s a sentiment that scares me as I thought I knew everything about this man. He’s a cruel and ruthless mob boss who takes whatever he wants, but no one is that black and white.
“You don’t need to know anything other than the fact that I’m your husband, and you’re my property.”
I glare at the cocky asshole who still insists I have no rights. “I’ll never be your property.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Never say never, angel.” He drags me toward the stage where the band is playing.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but he ignores me.
Milo grabs the microphone from the stand and taps on it, testing if it’s on.
I stand by his side, feeling self-conscious as everyone’s attention lands on the two of us. Milo is unpredictable, and I’ve got no idea what to expect.
“Can I have everyone’s attention?” He asks.
The chatter across the room dies down as more attention is directed our way.
“My beautiful bride, Aida, and I would like to thank you for coming. We hope you enjoy the rest of the evening.” He tightens his grip on my hand and pulls me closer to him. “However, we have got to be off to catch a plane to our honeymoon destination, which is a closely guarded secret.” He winks, and the guests laugh.
It’s like I’m witnessing an entirely different man to the one I’ve met up to now. He’s friendly and charismatic when on display, but once we’re alone again, his cruel and cold personality will be back in place.
“Thank you all again and stay as long as you want and drink all night. I would expect nothing less.” He waves and everyone claps as he drags me off the stage again.
A beautiful woman with long blonde hair steps into our way. “How cute you two look,” she says sarcastically.
Milo tenses next to me and glares at the woman. “Carmella. You have some nerve coming here after what your father pulled at my wedding,” he says, his voice quiet but laced with as much threat as if were shouting.
She laughs, and it isn’t kind. “Do I? What are you going to do to me here in front of all these people, Milo?” She sets a hand on the front of his jacket and leans toward him. “Are you going to kill me?” She murmurs hardly loud enough for me to hear.
I clear my throat. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Carmella takes her hand off my husband. “I’m Carmella, Milo’s one and only girlfriend. We broke up a long time ago, though.”
Milo grinds his teeth. “Yes, because you slept with one of my friends. What do you want?”
She looks at me for a moment. “Very beautiful your wife. It would be a shame if she were to end up in an accident.”
Milo growls. I glance around, wondering if this will turn into a scene in front of all these people. “Is that a threat, Carmella?”
She shrugs. “My father doesn’t appreciate your lack of respect for me, marrying a woman without consulting me first.”
“What the fuck are you on about? We broke up almost fifteen years ago. There’s no reason for me to consult you.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “I know we had our difference, but I always expected that if you were to marry, then you would marry me, and so did my father.”
/>
Milo shakes his head. “Then you are both insane. If you would excuse me, we’ve got a plane to catch.” He tries to drag me past his ex, but she steps in my way.
“I’d watch your back if I were you,” she says, threatening, as I sidestep around her. It’s clear she still has feelings for Milo, even if they did split up a long time ago. I find it hard to believe that any woman dated him voluntarily, but perhaps the young Milo was a different man.
Milo leads me out of the ballroom and toward the exit of the house. I yank him to a stop forcefully. “Milo, would you tell me where exactly we are going?”
He yanks me back, pulling me hard into his chest. “No, princess. It’s on a need-to-know basis only, and you don’t need to know. All you need to do is shut your mouth and look pretty.”
Rage slams into me as I stare at the man my father sold me to. I hate that my father has done this. I will never look at my father the same way again. Considering he hasn’t bothered contacting me since I got here and the sentiment that I remind him too much of my mother suggests he doesn’t want to see me again.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” I mutter, only loud enough for him to hear.
He growls like a beast and pins me with a gaze that could stop most people’s hearts. “It sounds like you want me to punish you, princess.”
My stomach twists at the cruel tone of his voice. I shake my head. “No, I want to know where the fuck we are going.”
He pulls me out of the ballroom and down a quiet corridor, pushing me hard against the wall. Milo’s eyes are wild with rage, and I suddenly wonder how much he would hurt me. Does he have control over that rage that so often dances to life in his ice-blue eyes?
“I’ve tolerated your disobedience up to now, but you are my wife now.” He squeezes my throat hard, bringing his face within an inch of mine. “Your sole fucking purpose is to submit to my every order, and if you don’t, the punishment will be far worse than what I did to you the first day we met.”
There is no lie in his tone. He is deadly serious, and it’s only then that it finally sinks in how dangerous the man I’m married to is. At times he’s addressed me with a flirty tone, but there is nothing but a lethal warning in his voice now.