Chapter Thirty-Eight

I engaged the locks to our presidential suite when Greta and I retired for our first night as a married couple. Dad had even put guards into the corridor in front of the suite in case any Falcone, Nevio in particular, felt the need to disturb our night.

The warning in Remo’s eyes when I’d led Greta away had been nothing in comparison to the rage in Nevio’s eyes. The party was still in full swing downstairs. Matteo must have given many guests his moonshine, but I hadn’t drunk more than a glass of Champagne.

With my hand on Greta’s back, I led her into our bedroom. Rose petals covered the path to the bed and formed a heart on the white covers.

“That’s very pretty.”

“Our mothers probably came up with it.”

I ran my knuckles over Greta’s neck and she tilted her head up with a trusting smile. My desire had burst to life the moment we were alone but I had no intention to rush things or lose control.

“I’m ready.”

I let out a laugh and cupped Greta’s face, claiming her lips for a kiss. After a moment I pulled back and motioned at the knife sheathed in the holder under my jacket.

Greta bit her lip. “One of your particular traditions?”

“We could cut the dress without you in it. Nobody would know.”

Greta lightly touched her fingertips to the knife. “No, let’s honor your traditions. I want to do this right.”

I pressed another kiss to her lips. “There’s no right or wrong tonight. As long as you enjoy it, we’re doing good.”

Greta nodded. I unsheathed my knife and brought the blade down on the V-neck of the dress. The material yielded under the unrelenting pressure of the steel.

I felt barbaric, animalistic, cutting Greta out of her dress. I’d waited too long for this moment.

“Is this a symbol for the wife’s loss of virginity?”

I glanced up at Greta, trying to follow her train of thought when my mind was going somewhere very different.

“Knives often symbolize a phallus. So you cutting me out of my dress, the fabric parting under the knife, stands for my hymen breaking when you enter me?”

“Maybe,” I murmured. I had never thought about it but Greta talking about me taking her virginity fired up my need.

Her dress fell to the floor and she stood before me in only white lace hipsters. My eyes took in the scars below her bellybutton, a familiar wave of rage washing over me.

Greta pushed her fingers into my hair. I peered up at her face. “Today isn’t about the past or anger, it’s about our love, and that you can finally make me yours.”

I nodded and finally noticed her shoes. I couldn’t help but smile. “Soon you’ll dance for me again.”

“Very soon,” she said.

I got down on one knee. “Mine,” I murmured against her belly, kissing the red scar. Seeing what Greta had to endure for this day to happen was another good reminder that I should always be grateful for having her at my side. I shoved to my feet and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her slender legs around my hip, pressing herself against my abs. I could feel her heat through the thin material of her panties. I stroked my fingers along her cheek and into her hair then tilted her head for a kiss, my tongue sliding along her lips until she parted for me. I carried her over to the bed and ripped the covers with the rose petals away, revealing the white sheets beneath. Protectiveness washed over me when I remembered we’d have to present bloody sheets tomorrow.

I lowered Greta on the bed and pressed a kiss to her lips then lower, her throat and collarbones before my mouth teased her pebbled nipples. My tongue traced them, loving how hard they felt. I stroked along Greta’s side, my hand slipping into her panties. My index finger dipped lower, parting her pussy lips, seeking her wet heat. I dipped even lower, parting her silky inner pussy lips and gathered the wetness pooling at her entrance. My desire to finally be inside of her, to lay claim to this part of Greta was almost overpowering but I held back, wanting to do this right, wanting to worship Greta like a queen. I pulled my hand out, my finger wet with her juices then I brushed it across Greta’s lips, until they were shiny.

She opened her mouth, her eyes swimming with curiosity and desire. She trusted me to take her on this journey and make it as pleasurable as possible, and I wouldn’t fail.

I bent over her face, sucking her lower lip into my mouth, tasting her. My hand wandered down again. I stroked my finger along her seam over and over again, basking in her wetness, her heat, her silkiness. Then I pushed my finger into her, sliding in and out at a lazy pace while my tongue teased her mouth. Soon Greta’s moans increased in volume from my fingering and I pushed another finger into her. Her walls hugged my fingers tightly and Greta moaned even deeper, her hips arching up to meet every thrust of my hand. I pulled back to watch her face, as it twisted with pleasure, her eyes hooded, her lips swollen and shiny from our kiss.

My gaze traveled down her gorgeous body to her pussy, my chest swelling as my fingers parted her. They were coated in her juices. I sped up, and slapped the heel of my palm against her swollen clit with every thrust. Her mouth parted wide and she cried out, her fingers clamping down on my wrist to keep me in place, with my fingers buried all the way inside of her as her orgasm overwhelmed her.

She closed her eyes, her head thrown back, bared her pretty throat. I couldn’t resist. I lowered my head and sucked her skin between my teeth. She winced, her walls clenching my fingers more tightly as she cried out again, shuddering through another small wave of pleasure. I kept suckling her skin then pulled back to admire my work. A beautiful hickey would mark her elegant throat in the morning. She was mine and I wanted everyone to see the proof of it.

My gaze slid lower once more. I pulled my fingers out of her, and brought them to my mouth, licking her arousal off. Greta watched me with parted lips, the desire in her eyes firing up my own. She reached for my jacket and helped me out of it, then she quickly opened the buttons of my shirt so I could shrug it off. Her fingers stroked over my chest, then lower, following my happy trail to my belt. Soon I knelt on the bed completely naked and the heat in Greta’s face as she regarded me was almost more than I could take.

I didn’t give Greta a chance to touch my cock. I was already rock hard. Now I needed to make sure Greta was as ready as I was.

I got down on my knees on the floor and pulled Greta toward the edge of the mattress before I lowered my mouth to her pussy. Her taste made me groan low in my throat. She was already so wet. “I’m ready, Amo.”

I chuckled against her mount. “Trust me.”

“Okay.” The word morphed into a moan when I sucked her clit into my mouth. Greta opened her legs wide, her feet in her ballet shoes pointed as if she were about to dance. So fucking beautiful. I stroked along her calf and began opening her silk ribbons while my lips kept teasing Greta’s clit. Soon she was rocking her hips again, chasing another release. I circled her opening with my fingers to test her readiness. She eagerly pushed against my fingertips, needing friction. So wet and ready. I pulled away despite her protest.

I got off the bed and hurried into the bathroom, returning shortly after with a towel.

“Lift up,” I ordered. Greta did without hesitation but confusion swam in her dark eyes when I spread the towel under her.

“Amo, what about the bloody sheets?”

I knew Greta would bleed, given our very different stature, and while I personally couldn’t wait to see this sign of me claiming my wife, I didn’t want anyone else to see it. That was just for me to see.

“Open your legs for me,” I said roughly.

Greta parted her legs wide, her pink pussy already soaked and ready from my fingerfucking and licking. I removed her ballet shoes and tossed them away before I settled between her thighs.

A hint of nerves flashed on Greta’s face but she smiled at me. I began to rub the crown of my cock over Greta’s pussy lips until she was panting again. The next time I glided along her flesh, I stopped with my tip against her opening. With my hand, I intensified the pressure until I could feel her body part for me bit by bit, allowing me to inch forward. My brows snapping together, I pushed a bit deeper until my tip was nestled inside of Greta’s pussy. Greta’s released a harsh breath, her belly muscles flexing. I swallowed hard as I watched how her pussy lips stretched around my thick shaft. The sight was such a huge turn on. My weight propped up on one arm, I released my cock and began to gently rub her clit then lifted my gaze to her sweaty face. Pain shone in her eyes but she still gifted me with a smile.

I shifted my hips and began to dip just my tip in and out of her until that simply wasn’t enough anymore. I lowered myself on top of Greta, my back curved so I could cradle her face in my palms. “I need this,” I growled.

She nodded, her lips meeting mine again. I moved my hips, working against the pressure until Greta’s walls gave way, allowing another inch to slide into her.

“If it’s too painful, we can stop.”

Greta cupped my neck, her nails digging in. “I’ve waited for this moment for a long time. I gladly take pain for it.”

We’d both suffered pain for our love, yet Greta so much worse than me. I loathed adding to this but at the same time I couldn’t stop. Slowly I worked my cock deeper into Greta while I kissed her gently. Her body became tenser under me while it tried to accommodate my girth. When Greta gasped in pain and I was buried almost to the hilt inside of her, I halted. Greta locked eyes with me and smiled shakily.

I kissed her mouth. “I love you. I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

“I’m only yours.”

I nodded and carefully pulled out a bit before I sank back into Greta’s heat. When her body didn’t clamp down on my cock like a vice anymore, I began to move back and forth a couple of inches at a slow pace.

I slid one arm under Greta, cupping her firm ass in my palm and lifted her slightly, shifting the angle as I got on my knees. I never stopped kissing Greta as I thrust into her slowly, my fingers kneading her ass. Soon the intense friction became close to unbearable, my balls ready to burst and I sped up slightly. Greta’s grip on me tightened as she tried to meet my thrusts.

My control began to slip as pleasure mounted and I squeezed my eyes shut with a guttural moan as my orgasm hit me.

I pumped into her two more times, releasing into her with every thrust, then I stilled, my eyes closed as I relished in the sensations coursing through my body. Greta’s soft fingers on my back brought me back to reality.

I couldn’t stop stroking muscled back and drew in another deep breath, loving Amo’s musky scent that mingled with the smell of sex. It was such a sensual, erotic scent.

If I hadn’t felt so sore and raw between my legs, I might have been turned on again. Instead I focused on the feeling of utter fullness. Amo was still inside of me, stretching me to an extent I hadn’t thought possible.

The pain reminded me that this was real, not another dream I’d wake from. This time Amo was really making me his.

Amo lifted his head and kissed me gently, his expression full of concern as he pulled out slowly. I bit my lip to stifle a wince. My body relaxed when Amo was completely out of me and I drew in a shaky breath. Amo gave my ass a light squeeze before he removed his arm from under me. I’d really enjoyed his touch there and would probably appreciate it in the future as an additional turn on. Now my body needed to recover.

Amo stroked my cheek, his warmth comforting. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

He pulled back and glanced down at the towel. He shook his head. “I’m glad I thought of the towel. This is only for our eyes.” He kissed the scar on my knee then gently patted me with the towel before he removed it from under me and tossed it away. He stretched out beside me and pulled me against his chest.

“Next time will be better for you.”

“It was good for me.” I traced Amo’s bicep, loving its hardness and the strength behind the muscle. I curled my hand over it, wondering why it pleased me so much that my hand looked so small against his arm.

Amo pulled back to look at my face, his disbelief obvious.

“It was good in the sense that I appreciated the symbolism of the sex, that you made me yours.”

Amo’s eyes flashed with a dark possessiveness that sent a pleasant shiver down my back. Another unreasonable reaction my body displayed because of Amo. Then a slow, ironic smile pulled at his lips. “Next time I want you to appreciate the sex for the mind-blowing pleasure, not the symbolism.”

“It’ll be good either way.”

Amo chuckled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am knowing that I’ll get to hear your quirky comments all my life.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Another thought crossed my mind. “But what are you going to do about the sheets?”

“I guess I’ll continue Dad’s legacy and create a new Vitiello tradition.”

“You’ll cut yourself, right?”

Amo nodded.

“You could have spared yourself the pain if you’d just used my blood and not put the towel beneath me.”

Amo cradled my face. “I didn’t want to share even this tiny part of you with the world.”

I frowned. “You realize many people have seen my blood before?” Blood from a first time wasn’t any different than any blood from a cut or other wound.

Amo laughed, a boisterous, deep laugh that warmed my belly. “Oh Greta. I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”

I shrugged and pressed my cheek against his chest. “If you feel possessive over my blood this might cause quite a few problems in the future. Unless you get a medical education and treat me yourself.” I bit my lip. I was teasing him now, but I couldn’t resist.

“If that’s what it takes,” he murmured, then his voice became harder and lower. “But I’ll make sure that you won’t ever suffer a wound, not even a fucking papercut.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed his finger against my lips. “I don’t want to know the statistics or any facts.”

“Okay,” I whispered against his skin then kissed his finger. I closed my eyes and breathed in his comforting scent.

Flames reflected on cold steel. Agony ripped through me and a scream tore from deep within my body.

“Greta.”

I jerked upright, blinking into the darkness. I pressed my hands against my belly, feeling for a knife handle, but I touched bare skin. My breathing rattled in my chest. The lights came on then dimmed down and Amo’s face came into view. He wrapped a strong arm around me and cradled me against his side. His lips brushed my temple. “I wish I could protect you from your nightmares. I wish I wasn’t the reason why you have them in the first place.”

I touched his hand. “Amo, my actions are as much responsible as yours if you really want to put blame on someone. We agreed to let the past rest. Eventually the nightmares will stop. They always do.”