AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ana felt herself strain, her thighs pushed to their limits as she quivered all over, trying to accommodate him. Beside her head, his arms were coiled with tense control. His dark eyes watched her closely.
Noting her every breath, her every whimper.
“That’s it…take it. Take me.”
Ana bowed back, unable to. There was too much heat everywhere. Crawling all over her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. There was no escape from him. Not from his hand that slid down, working between them, lighting her up again. Not from his mouth that closed over the tips of her painfully sensitive breasts. Or the immense force of him invading her relentlessly.
Her legs seized.
As the inferno rose.
He grasped her chin before she could scream, joining their lips in the blaze.
The shower water was a relief.
So was the quiet in her mind.
Gio’s soapy hands roamed down her backside, squeezing her butt before he placed a kiss on her shoulder and stepped out. She tried to catch his eyes to see what he was thinking, but he was already out of the shower and back into that cool façade again. As if the night had never happened.
Ana breathed unevenly, watching him cover up with a towel. She suddenly noticed her fingernail marks imprinted on his shoulder, and her face heated.
Oh, the night had definitely happened, and she still couldn't believe it. Hardly twenty hours ago, she had been a bona fide virgin. A mass of nerves and trauma. Now, she was taking showers with her new husband.
It had to be madness. What the hell had she been thinking asking him to sleep with her in the afternoon itself, when she had been so frightened?
The first time, she could understand. She had wanted to get her duty over with. To rip the band-aid off and hope that he was pleased enough with her performance not to place her on his vengeful warpath.
But the second and third times? From afternoon to night, he had let her sleep in for stretches before taking her again and again–and she had been unable to resist. It was like her mind had faded away completely, too lost in the blaze to even think about stopping.
It wasn’t until this morning, the day after, that she belatedly realized the consequences. Her thighs throbbed painfully with every motion. Not to mention the deeper pain in the spot between her legs that felt as if it had been impaled with a rod…which, in a way, it had.
Ana covered herself up with a towel, shyly grabbing her toiletries from the counter without looking at her husband. All of this felt like an out-of-body experience. Sharing a bathroom with him, the bed, and the lingering feeling of him inside her. She observed their toothbrushes laid side-by-side on the counter.
In complete contrast to her existential crisis, Gio shaved his face calmly, completely unruffled by the enormity of what had happened.
Was this normal? Just another day in the life for a man like him?
She supposed she should be mature and sophisticated about last night. After all, many people had sex with complete strangers. The two of them were at least closer than that. They were acquainted with each other…somewhat. More importantly, they were now husband and wife. Intimacy was expected.
Though Gio couldn’t have been short of other offers. Her eyes slid to his, watching him brush his hair, entranced.
Women in their world were much more constrained, while men were encouraged to sow their wild oats–past marriage and even well into the grave. Just be glad mafia men prefer their mistresses.
Her face soured at her aunt’s advice.
If she hadn’t prompted Gio to get their wedding night over with, would he have even initiated it? Maybe he'd agreed so he could get it out of the way as well, releasing some pent-up tension and fulfilling his marital duty, before moving on to his usual bedmates. Leaving her to her dresses.
She fiddled with the lotion bottle, rubbing it in her hands. “Do you have a mistress?”
Gio quirked a brow, appearing almost amused.
Ana frowned. Was her question stupid? Intrusive? She didn’t usually voice her private worries out loud, but they had somehow slipped out of her. Auntie would be rolling over in her metaphorical grave if she knew that Ana was questioning the Don this way. But lately, she wondered just how right Auntie was. The matriarch had cautioned Ana to watch her tongue a year ago, to never speak of that night to anyone. But the silence had eaten Ana up ever since. As the memories and secrets had built up inside her mind, they had consumed her, destroying her waking and sleeping hours.
Though she’d slept rather well last night…
It had been quite the workout.
She flushed at the memory. Just yesterday, she'd hoped that the wedding night would be a one-and-done event. Now…she didn't know. The urge to panic and flee was curiously absent.
