by Blake York
“Not anymore. I’ll cover it.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You can and will. You think I’m going to have my wife slaving away at all hours at a bakery instead of here with me when I need you?”
My insides sizzle at his words.
When I need you.
Before I know it, I stand up. I take two steps to where my husband’s sitting.
His dark eyes spark. He knows what I’m coming for and that my cherry will be his.
Hooking my hand around his nape, I lean down and brush my lips across his hard mouth. “Take me to bed, Warrick. It’s time to make this marriage real.”
Warrick
My bride isn’t shaking like the virgin she is, and it isn’t our wedding night. There’s no silky robe this time. She isn’t wearing anything but a soft smile that tells me she’s ready for me.
Even if she didn’t see my stiff cock jutting out, she’d know I’m damn well ready to have her.
I kick off my boxer briefs and face her. She takes in my every inch and doesn’t flinch away or run in fear at my impressive size. Nobody has to tell me I’ve got the biggest dick among the Rossis. I’m thick and long with a heavy set of balls that will father all the children I want.
Everly’s breasts rise and fall as she sucks in a deep breath. Her gaze runs from my cock, up my chest, to my face. Our eyes lock, and hers hood with desire.
I’m not sure what changed overnight, but I’m not going to dwell on it too long. I want her sweet virgin pussy.
My cock surges, bobbing against my abs. And Everly traps her lip in her teeth.
The action has me closing the gap between us. I slam my mouth over hers as I pick her up. She wraps her thighs around me and I bear her back on the bed.
The soft crush of her breasts against my chest has me throbbing harder. Her soft coos of desire fill my mouth on every pass of my tongue. Even if she’s never been claimed, she’s kissed before, and she’s damn good at it.
I rip my mouth free and go for her breasts. The cherry pink tips practically had me on my knees from first sight.
I capture one between my lips and draw on it hard enough to make her arch off the mattress. Then I release it and bathe it with my tongue, moving around the tight bud. She sinks her fingers into my hair, guiding me to her again. I suck her nipple for long seconds, working her up.
A plea leaves her lips, and I move to the other nipple. Sucking, nipping it. I love to tease and make my women beg for my cock. Something about having that control…maybe it’s the Rossi in me. Even if I don’t feel the need to dominate like my brother Kenzo, in a family of men with every dirty kink known to man, the gene isn’t going to pass me by.
When I raise my head and stare down at Everly, she’s flushed, her lips parted on a gasp, her eyes hazy with passion.
But not nearly enough.
“Pinch your nipples for me,” I grate out.
Her eyes flare wide, and slowly, she slides her hands up to cup her breasts. I take in the way she massages them before brushing the flats of her palms over each distended tip.
“I know you’ve pleasured yourself before. Show me what you do.”
“Warrick!”
“Show me.” My voice has just enough edge that it comes out as a command.
A dark thrill runs through me. Fuck, is this the beginning of another kind of darkness, the one that has Kenzo locked up in his room with his wife for hours? Those whips and paddles are looking pretty fucking good to me right now.
Everly looks into my eyes as she clamps her fingers around each nipple. She squeezes and pinches the tender flesh, drawing a deeper flush to her skin.
“Keep going,” I encourage her.
She hesitates for a moment before gliding her hand down the flat of her stomach. When she ruffles through the black curls, I’m hooked. I can’t look away when she slips one slender finger between the folds.
Her pussy lips are puffy and conceal her wetness from me, and I’m all but dying to see how worked up she is.
“Spread your pussy for me.”
She gasps out as she uses two fingers to press on the puffy lips and spreads them so I get just a peek.
I groan, and she moans in answer. Slowly, she works her fingertip back between the lips and folds, up to her tiny, hard button that is also concealed by her thick outer lips.
“Let me see your clit.” My roughened tone and the ache in my dick are the only indication I’m not totally in control.
Using both hands, she presses into the flesh of her pussy and parts the lips so I can see the pretty bud poking out between her soaked folds.
Jesus. I want to fucking taste her, but not yet. I need to see her touch herself more.
“Show me how you get yourself off.”
She cries out as she slides a finger inside herself. I watch it disappear, and I’m burning. On fire. I fucking love watching her get off.
She rocks on her finger, taking it deep. Then she glues another finger to her clit and crushes it. A harsh moan escapes her, filling the bedroom. I can’t stop myself from leaning over her and inhaling deeply to get a whiff of her aroused scent.
I drag it into my nose and let it fill me up with need. That ache inside me triples, expanding and stretching.
All at once, I pull her finger free. Her eyes widen as I stick it into my mouth and suck off her juices and replace her fingers with mine.
I ease inside her with one finger first, feeling the stretch of her virgin walls. I release her tasty finger and swoop down to kiss her, sinking my finger all the way to the knuckle.
She bucks against my hand and kisses me back with all the raw need I saw on her face. I slick my thumb over her clit, causing her inner walls to flex on my digit. I stroke her again and again until her hips rise in a rhythm that soon becomes a frenzy as her first orgasm breaks over her.
As soon as she starts to come, I add a second finger to her pussy. She cries out but clamps down hard, widening for me, stretched around my big hand. But the third finger will help coax her virgin pussy to fit my cock, and that’s what I want.
She jerks against my hand. I angle my mouth over hers, tongue-fucking her in time to my fingers sinking into her wet sex. I feel something give, and seconds later, a flood of cum soaks my hand.
I brought her off just on my fingers, and she’s thrashing in ecstasy.
I grab her wrists and pin them over her bed, poising my cock at her entrance. Her eyes lock on mine.
“Do it, Warrick. I give myself to you.”
Chapter VIII
Everly
I hardly notice when Warrick breaks through my final barrier. Only that he’s suddenly settled deep inside me.
He goes still, watching my face. “All right?”
I’m touched that he’s asking. A hard man born to a hard family taking the time to check on his virgin bride to make sure she’s all right is more than I ever hoped for.
I nod and urge him back to me with a pleading look. “Kiss me.”
He slams his mouth over mine, with all the rough passion I feel surging between my legs. He’s thick and longer than I expected, and I’m glad he’s my first.
I spread my legs wider, and he sinks into me another millimeter. The sensation drags another moan from my lips and a rumble through his muscled chest.
Slowly, he swings his hips back, withdrawing his cock through my folds before sinking in again.
I’ve never wanted sex so much. I play with myself at night under my covers, but I’ve never imagined how turned on it would make me to show him how I touch myself.
Or how turned on he was by watching me.
Is he a voyeur? Men have kinky appetites, I’ve heard. But I never imagined that Warrick’s kink would so quickly become mine.
I want to spread my legs and show him how I rub my clit and finger my pussy. I want to get on my hands and knees and show him how I like to rock while rubbing against my hand.
Each time he sinks deep inside me, his balls s
lap my body. The soft thump and the tight burning stretch of my flesh around his girth has me shaking.
Just as I start to move against him, he yanks out. My cry of frustration cuts off as he dives between my legs and slides his tongue home.
He burrows between my folds and licks me from hole to clit. Then he sucks my clit between his lips and I lose it.
I grab his face and ride his tongue, bucking and coming undone until I start to shake on yet another orgasm.
I’m still coming when he thrusts his cock into me again. This time I know nothing but extreme pleasure while he plunges again and again, driven toward the finish. I clutch at his tight ass and drag him even deeper still as his cum floods me.
The spurts are warm and thrill me to the core. Who ever knew being with a man would be this good? Certainly not me, not after…
I shove that memory from my mind and stay rooted in the moment, here with my husband.
Warrick collapses overtop me, and I wrap my arms and legs around him, holding him against me while we both catch our breath and locate our brain cells.
This day has been far from what I expected it to be. I woke alone, wondering at the mistake I made in not turning down Warrick’s offer of marriage. Then the detective dredging up everything from the past, and my husband’s acceptance of the truth I told him.
Finally, me giving myself completely, letting go of all my fears and allowing Warrick to work me up to the point where all I wanted—and still want now—is his cock.
I rub against him, and he growls against my throat. Leaning back, he gives me a wolfish grin. “So soon?”
Embarrassment and shyness overtake me. “I…liked it.”
“More than liked it. I think the entire house heard you.”
I bury my face against his chest, and he issues another rumble of a laugh.
Then he pulls out of my pussy and lies next to me, leaning on one elbow, his stare cutting into me.
“Let’s start at the beginning.”
I fill my lungs with a gulp. “With…” I cup my breasts.
He gives a solemn nod, his eyes already burning as he watches me work myself up to a slow burn that quickly becomes an inferno.
As he watches, he climbs off the bed. Standing at the side, he stares down at what I’m doing, takes hold of his cock at the base and starts to jack himself off.
The sight shocks me, and my fingers slow as I tumble headlong into a desire so hot and heady that my head’s spinning.
Watching a gorgeous man grip his hard, ridged cock and fuck it through his fist, the veins snaking up his arms and down to the base of his cock too, is the most amazing sight I’ve ever seen.
The burn in my pussy intensifies, and my fingers start flying faster, working myself up to the pinnacle of ecstasy.
Warrick sidles up to the head of the bed, leans down and brushes the thick head of his cock over my lips. Gasping, I open my mouth and take him. Salty precum hits my tongue. It’s not the first BJ I’ve ever given, but it’s the first one that I’ve enjoyed.
He doesn’t let me suck him for long. I don’t even take him all the way to the root before he pulls out, flips me over and sinks into my pussy from behind.
His loud groan shakes me to my core. But when he reaches underneath me and strums my clit, I shoot to another planet.
“I’m coming!”
“Hell yeah, baby. Fucking come for me. Come around my cock. Christ, I see you squeezing me…so…fucking…tight!” He pours his release into me as I’m gripping him with my own.
I hang suspended in a floating haze for a long time. When I open my eyes again, I find I’m lying in bed with a blanket pulled up over me and Warrick standing beside the bed, dressed.
“I didn’t realize you got up,” I whisper.
His stare travels over my face, his own expression reflecting something I can’t read. When he reaches out and trails his fingertip over my lips, I catch the scent of myself on it.
My insides leap, and I grip his wrist. “Come back to bed with me.”
The light in his eyes turns into a thousand burning candles. “I’ve got business. I’ll be back tonight. Dinner’s at seven. If I’m not back, eat without me. The ladies will be there to keep you company.” He starts to the door in long strides that show off his rolling muscles.
“Warrick!”
He turns at the door, hand on the knob.
My voice is small when I say, “Thank you for making that experience a good one.”
Everly
I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Golden light touches my skin and makes me glow. I know it can’t be from a few hours in my husband’s bed.
Can it?
Warrick made losing my virginity far more than I ever expected. I always figured some creep would force himself on me, and I’d be left with more scars than I already bear.
But he made the act into something more with smoldering hot kisses and touches that still make my insides knot just thinking about them. The fact that emotions didn’t play a role in us falling into bed might have actually helped me relax and let go too.
Without any pressure, I didn’t have to think about my next move or how to act. He gave to me, and I wanted to give back.
Finished with my thoughts about my husband’s amazing skills in bed, I start to worry about sharing dinner with my new family. Small-talk is difficult for me. I grew up pretty isolated, with only my sister for company for many years.
And those Rossi wives are way out of my league too. Even though I was wearing a wedding dress, I still felt their appearances outshined me like the brightest stars in the sky.
I run my hands over an outfit I brought from home with me, a pair of slim-fitting black pants and a white blouse with frills at the collar. I probably look like a bartender compared to their silks and furs, but if I want my massive hunger pangs to subside, my only option is to face them.
Here goes.
The Rossi wives. I know almost nothing about them. Where are they from? What do they do all day? Warrick’s words return to my mind. He mentioned that he chose me for himself. Did that mean that the other brothers—Anders, Gabriel, Kenzo and Ryker, I go through them in my head—weren’t so lucky?
Could those lovely women who looked like they were born to be part of the Rossi empire actually be arranged marriages?
It’s not uncommon in the circles we run in. It was only uncommon for our father to try to marry my sister and I off long before we came of age.
As I walk to the bedroom door, my phone trills. I turn, surprised to see I’ve forgotten to put it in my pocket and it still lay on the bedside table where I left it after Warrick walked out.
I hurry to pick it up. It could be Melody or possibly the landlord who owns the building where my bakery’s at looking for rent money.
I snatch the phone up. When I see the name on the caller ID, my blood chills about a thousand degrees below zero.
My mother.
I can only guess that Detective Bly’s been interrogating her about her husband’s murder too. I pick up and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Everly Louise Gallo!”
“Uhh…it’s Rossi now, Mom.”
A beat of silence follows my bomb drop.
“Rossi?”
“Yes, I’m married.”
“Since when?”
“Since yesterday.”
“Are you pregnant?” Her snide tone cuts through me. Either she’s tripping on heroin and rocking in a corner with her head in another world or she’s slashing me with her tongue.
“I’m not pregnant,” I bite off through my clenched teeth. “I just got married.”
“Well good luck to you. Nobody likes being married. It’s a crock of shit.”
“Did you call to tell me that, Mom?” I inwardly seethe at how quick this woman can get under my skin. She’s been useless all my life, and now she thinks she has the right to call me up and lecture me about my life choices?
�
��No, I called because I have a question to ask you.”
I tap my foot on the hardwood. “I’m waiting.”
Another pause comes, but I know this one’s for theatrical purposes.
“Did you really kill your father?”
The wind is punched out of my lungs. I jerk forward but no air will fill them back up. Did she seriously just ask me that question, or am I imagining things because Detective Bly poked me with a stick?
For three full heartbeats I question my sanity. Then my strangled voice sounds in my own ears. “Did you just ask if I killed my father?”
“You heard me, Everly.”
“Why would you ever think that, Mom?”
“I’ve been hearing some things.”
“Hearing, huh? Who’s filling your ear with garbage this time?” I spit out the venomous words even if inside I’m a wreck. That this accusation would come right now after I admitted to Warrick that I premeditated killing my father but the choice was taken out of my hands is soul-shaking.
Surely, he didn’t go and blabber to my mother. What reason would he have to betray me?
What reason does he have not to? Our marriage was a contract. No feelings are involved, and loyalty is way down on that list.
“This is all crazy talk,” I say. “The heroin you shoot into your arm and between your toes has finally caught up to your brain. How would I have gone about killing Dad? I was sixteen.”
“You were supposed to marry Nick Moretti.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The lie flies off my tongue with all the defensive strategy I’ve been trying to hold on to for years. Usually I’m bad at lying and everybody sees right through it. But this time it rolls off my tongue so smooth that even Mom can’t think of a way to argue.
“I know you’re lying.”
“How do you know?” I shoot back.
“Because you’re my daughter and we’re both good liars.”
“Oh yeah? What are you lying about then?” I stab.
“I knew you were married.”
My hands are shaking so bad from my mother’s mind games that I hang up on her. With a stifled scream, I toss my phone onto the bed. It bounces and settles, but I’m far from settled. My insides are boiling with fury and the fear her questions have instilled in me.