His Stolen Bride - MINK Page 0,10
man, one who shows no mercy to his enemies. Sparring with him would help relieve the pressure, but I don’t have time for it. Not when I’m on the cusp of my wedding.
I run a hand through my hair and settle down. We’re in the ballroom at the back of the estate, though I suspect it hasn’t seen any balls in quite some time. The paintings are faded, the ceiling peeling, and the floor cracked in a million places. It’s a fine villa, just in need of a lot of work.
My eyes keep returning to the wide double doors. I want to see her. I can close my eyes and find her face, the shape of her body, but I need more. I touch my lips when I remember my stolen kiss. She was so warm, so soft. All for me. Every last bit of her. This alliance is forever, and I want to put heirs in her belly sooner rather than later.
Just the thought of my seed inside her tight cunt makes my cock start to thicken. I can only imagine how sweet her cherry is, how perfect it will taste on my tongue. She’s never known true pleasure, never felt the touch of a man. I’ll be her first, her last, her only. Maybe it makes me a caveman, but the thought of having her all to myself sends a pleasant thrill through me.
But she won’t give in easily. She’s a fighter. I found that out quickly. But she won’t fight me for long. Not when I get her on her back with my tongue between her legs. She’ll beg for my cock, and I’ll have no choice but to give it to her, to spread her ample thighs and—
“Santino.” Lucenzo interrupts my spiraling fantasy.
“What?” I snap my gaze to him.
“She’s here.”
I look up. My breath stops. There’s no music, no wedding march, but I swear I could hear angels singing as she approaches. Her eyes find mine, and I can’t look away. Not from the vision in the light pink dress. Her dark hair cascades over one shoulder, and she walks to me in measured steps. Her lips are parted, and I can feel her pulse pounding with every step she takes.
Does she have any idea how beautiful she is? Giuseppe was a fool to not claim her. I don’t know how I can wait to take her. Fuck, I’d like to have her right now. The priest can watch for all I care, just as long as she’s moaning my name as I give her all I’ve got.
When she reaches me, I catch the scent of roses.
“Beautiful.” I offer her my arm.
She stares at it for a long moment.
“We have a date.” I lean closer to her and press my lips to her ear. “You are a vision.” When I pull back, she looks up at me with something verging on surprise. Does she truly not know the effect she has on me? If she’d look a little lower, she would.
“Please.” I offer my arm again.
This time she takes it, and we turn to face the priest.
“The short version,” I instruct.
He nods and gets on with it. No sermons or platitudes about love, just the sealing of our bond in front of the few people in the room. Her sister and that asshole Leo stand at her side, and I notice Leo seems a bit too familiar with the younger girl. I don’t like him. I may kill him but not tonight. Tonight, we celebrate.
The clock strikes two in the morning when the priest is done.
“You may kiss the bride,” he says and steps back.
“Don’t even think about it,” Bella hisses, fire in her eyes. “You have me. We’re married. I’ll do as you ask, but don’t think you can manhandle me or take me without a fight.”
“Is that so?” I wrap my arm around her waist. “We must seal this pact, my beauty.”
“Let go.” She fidgets in my embrace, but I pull her close.
Her eyes go to my mouth, her desire giving her away. She wants my kiss. But does she want my love? Do I have any to give?
As I hold my beauty’s angry gaze, I realize I do have it to give, and I’ve never found anyone I want to give it to more than this snarling Carrera with the temper of a demon and the face of an angel.
Gripping her harder, I claim her mouth in a searing kiss. Not a church