Virgin: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

by Shanna Handel

  “And what does that entail?” I eagerly await his promises.

  His finger strokes my cheek. “Me owning every inch of your body. Making you scream my name. Laying down my life for you and not because the hierarchy requires me to. Because I want to. Because I want to spill the blood of any man that harms you. And I want to take care of you. Treat you like the gift that you are.”

  “I accept.” I lean forward, pressing my mouth to his.

  His mouth is locked on mine as he gathers me into his arms and stands. I break away, laughing as he carries me all the way up to the third floor. My heart is so light it’s soaring. There’s a fullness in my chest, a warmth in the center of my being that makes me feel as if I’ve found home after a long journey.

  We reach the top of the stairs.

  He lays me on the bed. Takes off his shirt. Unbuckles his jeans. They drop to the floor. His cock stands eagerly at attention. “Why don’t you taste it?”

  His words set fire to my cheeks. But there’s a curiosity welling within me. I want him in my mouth. I want to lick and suck and taste his manhood. “Yes.”

  He moves closer to me until he is standing between my legs. I take his cock in one hand, cup his balls in the other. His hands go to my hair. He leans his head back and gives a moan of pleasure. I wrap my hand around his shaft, gently stroking up and down. I lean in, taking the head of his cock in my mouth. The skin is soft, warm, and it fills my mouth. My tongue darts over it and I taste the sweet saltiness of his slickness.

  Moving my head forward, my lips wrapped around him, my hand still on his shaft, I slowly inch down his cock. His fingers find my hair, stroking it and raising the hairs on the back of my neck. His moans of pleasure send a gush of arousal where I already ache between my legs.

  Then he growls, lifting me from him by my shoulders. He throws me back onto the bed, climbing over me like a panther. His mouth is on mine, pressing, tasting. He’s hungry for my love. I lean my head back as his kisses caresses my neck, down to my collarbone where he nips with his teeth. My hands go to his shoulders, my nails dig into his flesh.

  He kisses down my trembling torso. Between my legs. I exhale softly as his tongue caresses my slick folds, teases my swollen bud. Too soon he pulls away. His hands grab my hips, pulling me toward him. My legs hang from the side of the bed.

  His eyes lock on mine and I gasp as the head of his cock pushes against my wet, wanting entrance. He thrusts and my pussy tightens around him as he enters me. He lifts my legs, wrapping them around his shoulders. With their elevated position, his cock enters me further, so deep I think I’ll tear inside. But then he’s moving back and forth and I’m gasping for breath. My insides tighten and throb and before I can process what’s happening, my mouth is open in a soundless scream, my hands grabbing his forearms hard as my body hits the hard wall of an intense climax. I’m trembling, shuddering as the tightening begins again. But then his cock is gone. My legs falling back onto the bed.

  He’s grabbing my waist. Flipping me over onto my stomach. My fingers clutch at the sheets, my eyes squeezing shut tightly.

  I know where he’s going.

  He said every inch of my body and he meant it.

  Heat rises in my cheeks as shame covers me like a blanket. A whimper escapes my lips as I feel his finger collect my slick juices, then press against my tight bud. He enters me and I give a moan. It feels so good and yet so taboo. So off limits. But this is Dante and he can do what he will with me. I’ve given him the gift of my body, my submission. And he’s never let me down.

  I take a deep breath, relaxing my muscles as he removes his finger, replacing it with the head of his cock.

  Perspiration beads on my forehead and my breaths quicken despite my best efforts to slow them. He’s pressing into me, stretching my tight skin. Making me burn, ache, and throb all at once. Suddenly, he’s inside of me. All the way inside of me. I’m so tight and he’s so big and he’s not supposed to be... in there, but it feels so damn good and a moan is releasing from deep, deep within my belly as he moves back and forth. I want him to stop. I want him to push harder. My hips go to pull away from him, run from his big cock, but my bottom moves toward him instead, allowing him deeper access.

  I cry out, “Dante!” as a strange new sensation builds within my core. I’m going to come again, but this time it’s a different type of orgasm. A deeper, more carnal one, created in the very center of my core. I’m fully his. Fully submitted to him, like prey to a predator. I feel as though he’s a boa constrictor, squeezing the very last breath out of me as I release a whimpering scream, no longer able to hold back the explosion growing within me.

  My toes curl, my fingers clutch. Light flashes behind my tightly shut eyelids. I’m panting, my heart pounding against my chest. “Dante, Dante, Dante!”

  He gives a groan, his fingers digging into my flesh as he gives a hard, final thrust. I feel his cock throbbing, pumping his hot seed and filling my bottom with it.

  We lay together, sweaty and panting and dripping with one another’s juices. I kiss his lips, blushing at the thought that he made good on his promise—owning every inch of my body.

  * * *

  One year later

  Adrianna

  The dress is pure white in color and made of Mulberry silk, which I’m told is more refined than other types of silk. The Mulberry silk strand is longer, more uniform than others, producing the most elegant, durable material for a gown. The neckline plunges into a deep V, my breasts never looking better than they do on this day, thanks to Sasha and her tape. An expert on backless dresses, she strapped my breasts in place, up and perky and perfectly round against the light fabric.

  For jewelry, other than my simple three-carat teardrop diamond ring, I wear custom Robinson Pelham earrings. The jewels were a gift from Rockland and Tess, a diamond-set stylized olive leaf with a pear-shaped diamond-set drop and a pavé-set diamond teardrop suspended in the center.

  My hair is swept up high, piled on my head, pinned in place with diamond-encrusted combs, a wedding day surprise gift from Dante, delivered on a satin pillow by an overly perky Paige. Whispering, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ in my ear, she slipped her own gift onto my wrist—an aquamarine bracelet I had once admired at her husband’s jewelry store. The wink she gave me afterwards tells me this ‘loaner’ will be mine to keep.

  Beneath my long gown, I wear silk ballet slippers. I’m already tall and I figure, why not be comfortable for my big day? My stomach is so full of nerves I don’t want to risk teetering around on heels.

  I’d been so busy with my new job, working as Tess’s right-hand woman, I hadn’t much time for wedding planning. Paige, newly pregnant with their second child and home with a toddler, eagerly took the burden from me. Her home in the Hamlet became the head of wedding services and between her and all her mom friends, I know they’re going to pull off a beautiful event.

  In my shaking hands I hold a bouquet of burgundy roses. From their wine-red petals rise white calla lily flowers, their stems handtied with a white satin ribbon. Women stand to my right and left, but they fade to a blur as the door to the rooftop opens.

  Hundreds of white globe lights crisscross above us, dotting the dark sky. More lilies hang from the black cords. The breeze blows, the scent of roses filling the air. There are vases of the burgundy beauties everywhere I turn.

  The bridesmaids go before me, each linking arms with a handsome groomsman dressed impeccably in a black tux with burgundy tie and cummerbund. I lean forward, trying to find the altar past their heads but I’m at a loss.

  My heart yearns for my eyes to find Dante’s.

  A piano plays softly in the background but all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears. My head is light, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I feel as if a thousand eyes are on me and my stomach tightens. Then I feel a strong arm lock into mine.

  Rockland.

  I shoot him a grateful look. With his solid presence beside me, my breathing slows. As the head
of the family, he should be the one to perform the ceremony, but he insisted he would be the only one to get the honor of giving me away. He smiles at me proudly and I swear there’s tears glistening in his eyes. He dabs at them and gives me one last look. “Ready, kid?”

  Fighting back tears of my own, I swallow hard and nod.

  We make our way down the aisle. And there at the very end stands my future. My soulmate. My everything.

  Dante.

  Our eyes meet. The smile that stretches across his face fully lights his features. His green eyes dance with joy as he reaches out to take my arm from Rockland’s.

  I squeeze my arm around his, staring up into his eyes. The feeling that shoots between us is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s a promise of a life to come. Passion that will only grow with time. Love that will never end.

  Bronson’s voice brings me back to the rooftop. I tear my gaze from my lovers and acknowledge the man who will now unite us. His smile is light, easy as he asks us, “Shall we begin?”

  Dante gives a definitive, “Yes.”

  We stand beneath a black iron arch, its curving details decorated with roses and lilies and tiny twinkling white lights.

  Bronson asks, “Who gives this woman to be wed today?”

  “I do,” Rockland’s voice answers behind us. I turn over my shoulder and give him a grateful smile. He gives me a nod and turns to go to his seat.

  “Very good. You may be seated. Welcome to all who have gathered here this day to share in this marriage ceremony of Dante and Adrianna. The words spoken today are sacred and celebrate a lasting bond that already exists between these two who have already joined their hearts together and chosen to walk together on life’s journey. Today, as Bachmans, we bear witness to the pledge of a sacred, eternal bond. One that may not be broken.”

  Dante gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Those of us in attendance today are present to witness a statement of lasting love and commitment between Dante and Adrianna. The ceremonial union of two people in marriage, in its primordial form, is as ancient as our very humanity and yet is still as fresh as each day’s sunrise. The commitment of love between them is more than a declaration of love. It is a promise to remain loyal, faithful, and in service to one another until the day that death parts the two of them. Everyone gathered here today was invited to this ceremony because you have played a special role in the lives of these two young people. You are present at this ceremony to celebrate their marriage and to witness their vows of love to one another. Will all of you, gathered here to witness this union, do all in your power to love and support this couple now, and in the years ahead? If so, please respond, we will.”

  A resounding, “We will,” rises from the crowd.

  “And Adrianna and Dante, have you come here today with the intention to be legally joined into the unique bond that is a Bachman marriage? Do you pledge to remain faithful, loyal, and adhere to the ways of the Bachman family?”

  My voice shakes as I speak but I join Dante in answering, “We do.”

  “Then let us witness the exchange of vows. Dante, please repeat after me. I, Dante, take you, Adrianna, to be my wife; to have and to hold, from this day forward; for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; until we are parted by death.”

  I’m lost in his eyes, his words as he promises his life to me. The tears flow freely down my cheeks and I don’t bother to brush them away.

  “And now, Adrianna, please repeat after me. I, Adrianna, take you, Dante, to be my husband; to have and to hold from this day forward.”

  My voice shakes as I speak. “I, Adrianna, take you, Dante, to be my husband; to have and to hold from this day forward.”

  “I vow to accept your headship over our family. To obey your word. To accept your discipline.”

  My voice no longer trembles as I repeat the words, “I vow to accept your headship over our family. To obey your word. To accept your discipline.”

  “For better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; until we are parted by death.”

  We finish the vows.

  It’s time to exchange the rings. Dante slips a simple silver band from the breast pocket of his jacket. “I’ve prepared a few words for this moment.”

  My heart flutters in anticipation.

  He takes my left hand in his, slipping the ring onto my finger. It nestles in above my engagement ring. He takes my hand in both of his. His fingers turn the band gently as he speaks. “Adrianna. Let the circle of this ring represent to you the never-ending declaration of my love. When I met you, my heart was a bleak, dark place void of love. You awoke me, healed me. Made me love again. Stronger than before.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. “For that I am forever grateful. And I will never forget what a gift you are to me.”

  I’m crying. Not the delicate tears of a blushing bride, but ugly racking sobs best committed behind closed doors. He wraps his arms around me and I rest my head on his chest, composing myself. “It—it’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

  When I’m able, I take his ring from Sasha and slide it on his finger. Marking him as mine. The ring looks so handsome on his strong hand and I admire it for a moment before Bronson speaks.

  “Dante and Adrianna, inasmuch as you have pledged yourselves, each to the other, and have declared the same in the presence of this company by the exchange of vows and the giving and receiving of rings, by the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!”

  Dante smiles at me. A light, breezy smile of joy that lightens his features, his eyes shining. He takes my cheeks in his hands. I close my eyes and enjoy the shivers that dance down my spine as his lips meet mine.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Dante Bachman!”

  He holds my arm in the air and the crowd cheers. Then he turns to me and kisses my lips. He bends down and places a gentle kiss on the emerald sword that hangs around my neck. He lifts my hand and kisses the band around my finger. His eyes lock on mine and he whispers two words that make me the happiest woman in the world.

  “My wife.”

  * * *

  Adrianna

  It’s our wedding night and though we’ve made love so many times before, I feel as nervous as I had that first time on his couch in the Parish. I’ve gone to the bathroom to change into the silk gown Sasha packed for me.

  My reflection stares back at me. My eyes wide and shining with excitement. I take a deep breath, gathering myself for a few quiet minutes after such a hectic day. The suite he’s booked is gorgeous—even the bathroom is a room fit for a queen. The window is opened, letting the soft sea breeze blow in.

  We’re staying in a castle, high up in the hills of New York. Just for the night, then it’s off to Europe where we’ll tour countries, eat delicious foods, see the beautiful sights, and make love for hours. I sigh, a smile dancing across my face as my arms hug my body over the decadent nightgown.

  He’s going to love the way it feels over my skin. Just thinking of his hands on me has my pert nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric. Color rises in my cheeks and I feel a pool of moisture between my legs.

  “Adrianna.” His voice is calm, yet a commanding tone rings in his single word. He’ll not wait any longer.

  I open the door with trembling fingers.

  He sits on the bed, stripped of his clothing, save the pants from his tux. His tanned chest is bare, his smooth muscles round and hard and calling my name. I slide across the floor to greet him. He reaches his arms out for me. His big hands circle around my waist, making me feel positively tiny.

  He pulls me onto his lap, the slippery fabric of my gown rising up. His muscled thighs are hard beneath my bottom. He wraps his arms around my waist. The heat from his bare chest burns through the silk. His strong arms envelop me like a cocoon.

  One I could not easily escape. The thought send
s a thrill through me and another gush rushes between my legs.

  His fingertips trail up my thighs, the white silk inching up, exposing more of me to him. I sigh, my head lolling back against his chest. It feels so good to be here—sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around me. The long, emotional day fades to the back of my mind as I close my eyes, fully experiencing this moment. I inhale his scent—that clean woodsy musk that drives me wild. I reach my hand back, smoothing it over the back of his neck. His fingers wrap around my thighs, squeezing gently. The pressure makes my pussy clench, begging to be the next object of his affections.

  His mouth is by my ear, his lips tickling my lobe. His voice is gruff as he whispers, “Who does this body belong to?”

  “You, Dante. Only you.”

  He brushes the tips of his fingers over the cage of my ribs. Goosebumps rise on my flesh. His fingers trace the curve of my breast. Graze over my hard nipple, causing my breath to catch in my throat. His hand runs back down my side, fingers walk over my trembling, parted thighs.

  He glides toward my needy center. My hips shift. My back arches. My body begging him to caress me.

  I gasp when I finally receive what I want—the tips of his fingers are lightly pressing against the wet, hot pulsing between my legs. But it’s only for a moment. They slip over the silk, back down to the tops of my thighs. A whine rises in my throat, my head pushing further back. I grab the back of his neck, silently begging him to do it again.

  I’m rewarded with a soft chuckle. His finger moves upward, ever so slowly. Inch by inch nearing the place I need him most. The tension is building between my thighs, my body demanding pleasure.

  My nipples further harden, straining against the thin fabric of my nightdress. My heart races and I feel flush, then—yes! There it is, the gentle pressure of his finger gently sliding over those silky little panties, rubbing against my clit. He rubs once. One delightful heavenly stroke. His voice rumbles in my ear. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

  “You, Dante.” My hips squirm, my hands trail down to his hard forearms, clutching.

  “Then I’m the only one allowed to touch it. Understood?”