Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
As soon as we're outside, he scoops me into his arms, his mouth slanting down on mine again. "You're mine now, mio sole," he growls against my lips, his kiss hot and wild, unrestrained. "Mine."
"Then take me to our room and prove it, husband."
"Fuck. Say that again."
"Husband," I whisper.
He practically runs to the SUV with me in his arms. I laugh the whole way, happier than I've ever been.
"Wait," he says thirty minutes later, placing his hand on my arm before I can step onto the elevator. Before I can ask what's wrong, he's sweeping me back up into his arms. "I'm supposed to carry you, tesoro."
"That's only over the threshold of our home, Domani."
"No, it's everywhere I say it is."
I smile, touching his cheek. For a man with more blood on his hands than I can comprehend, he's awfully sweet. I love that about him. He is who he is, but his soul is fully intact, untouched by the evil that would have tainted a lesser man than he.
He strides onto the elevator, hitting the button for our floor. Our reflections bounce back from the chrome walls. Him in his tuxedo. Me in my white dress. His olive skin and dark hair like a backdrop for my reds and whites. Somehow, despite our differences, we look as if we fit.
The elevator slides to a stop on our floor. He steps off, moving aside for a middle-aged couple who smile brightly and offer their congratulations.
"We're married," I say as we walk away.
The couple hear me and laugh.
Domani chuckles. "Yeah, we are, tesoro."
"I'm a wife."
"Yes. Mine." He dips his head, his lips brushing mine. "And I'm your husband."
"Walk faster," I order him, my core clenching when he says it.
He grins and hurries his pace.
I use the time wisely, nuzzling my face into his throat. Tasting his skin. Dragging my teeth along the tendon of his neck. He growls, his body tense around mine. He's turned on. I feel it pulsing in the air around us like a tangible, living thing.
"You're asking for trouble, mio sole."
"No, I'm not asking for anything, Domani." I press my lips against his ear, running my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm begging for it."
He growls wordlessly, balancing me between his hard body and the wall beside the door to our room. Within seconds, it's open, and he's storming through. It slams behind us. He pushes me up against it, pinning my hands beside my head.
His teeth sink into the sensitive skin where my neck and my shoulder meet. He wastes no time dragging my dress up my thighs. I'm not a traditional bride, and I didn't pick a traditional dress. The off-the-shoulder number is all lace. The A-Line bottom hits just above the knees, flaring out into a full, fluffy skirt. It's short and daring. I feel like a true princess in it.
I know Domani loves it. He nearly came unglued when I stepped out of the dressing room in it. He's been hard ever since.
"This isn't going to be sweet and gentle," he warns me, dragging the top down to expose my breasts. "I need you too fucking badly."
"Good. Who said I wanted sweet?" I don't. I just want him. There's plenty of time for sweet and gentle later. I know he'll give me that. He'll make me take my time. God knows, he'll take his. Until I'm ready to burst apart at the seams. There is no hurrying Domani. When he decides he wants to make love to me, he sends me to another plane of existence, one singular touch at a time. He did it over and over again last night. The man is a beast in the bedroom, focused solely on me and my pleasure.
But right now, I just want him inside me, claiming me in every way I can be claimed. I want his ring on my finger and his cock inside me. I want his name on my lips and his hands in my hair. I want him. Period.
"Get my cock out," he orders before his teeth close around my nipple. He releases my hands, letting me set to work. I tear through the button on his pants, sending it bouncing across the floor.
Before I have his cock out, he's tearing my panties off…his fingers are inside me. I lose track of what I'm doing. His name falls from my lips in a loud moan.
"Get my cock out, Finley," he demands, delivering a punishing bite to my right nipple. The sting goes straight to my clit. The loud, wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of me make me wetter, hotter.
I wrap my hand around his shaft, pulling his cock from his pants. It's so beautiful. I don't know if dicks are supposed to be pretty, but his fascinates me. Or maybe that's simply because I know what he can do with it. I know the way it makes me feel. If there's anything in this world better than this man fucking me, I won't survive it.