15. Salvatore

I'm hanging on by a thread.

I've never known sexual frustration like what Gia makes me feel. Every inch of my body feels wound tight, muscles rigid with the effort of holding back, my cock hard to the point of pain. I want to tell myself that it's just deprivation, but I've gone longer than this most recent dry spell without sex before, and been fine.

It's her. It's been her since I took off her wedding dress one button at a time. Since I saw her undress in our suite the night of our wedding, and found that the stubborn, willful, fiery woman I married was nothing like the girl I thought I walked to the altar.

The desire I feel for her feels like a living thing, churning through my veins, burning me up. I bite back a groan when I slide my fingers between her thighs, feeling her slick heat against the pad of my thumb, her body instantly responding to the touch.

If she's so responsive to just that, what would it be like to pleasure her the way I want to?

I want her desperately, and it's only getting worse. We're in this bed now because she's right about one thing—I will need an heir, and if the tension between us stays the way it has been for all of this vacation, I'm going to lose my mind. I wondered from the moment she walked out of the bathroom on the private jet in those shorts and little yellow blouse if I'd made a mistake. Here, I can't put distance between us the way I can at the mansion. There's not enough space to cool down when she winds me up.

The last thing I should have done was take her to a tropical destination. I should have taken her to fucking Antarctica, where she'd be buried under five layers of clothing. Instead, she's in this huge, white-sheeted bed, damp and gorgeous, the scents of salt and lemon and chlorine filling the room, writhing under my touch as I rub my thumb against her clit.

Just take her virginity and get it over with,I growl at myself. If I can control my own fucking lust, I can make it about the duty that it's meant to be, and not my own pleasure. I run through all my justifications in my head—that I married her to protect her, and as long as she's still technically a virgin, she could still be stolen back. That a don needs an heir, and it's her job as my wife to provide that. That if I get this over with, and give her what she's demanding, she'll let it go.

She will have won. That's what really matters to her in this scenario, I tell myself, struggling to keep my thoughts from blurring. She's squirming against my hand, panting, and my cock throbs, hard enough to nearly bring tears to my eyes. I need to be inside of her more than I need to breathe.

Give her what she wants.Then this will be over, and we'll be able to have the physically distant marriage that I planned for—perfunctory sex to get her pregnant, and nothing else.

The thought of sex with this woman being reduced to perfunctory makes my body rebel in every part of me. But I'm stronger than my own desires. I'm not an animal to be ruled by my lust.

Gia was my ward. Now she's my wife. This is just another part of keeping her safe—by making her mine.

I refocus, looking down at her breathless, arching body on the white sheets. I need to make her come first, in order not to hurt her. It's not ego—I know if I don't give her at least one orgasm, she won't be able to take me. But touching her, feeling her slick heat against my fingers, hearing her whimper as I rub my thumb over her clit again and nudge two fingers against her tight entrance, makes keeping the rein on my lust nearly impossible.

She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The most beautiful woman I've ever had in my bed. And I shouldn't—I can't—fuck her the way I want to.

Gia tosses her head against the pillows, grinding against my hand as she lets out a frustrated gasp. "Aren't you tired of just using your fingers?" she moans, twisting her hips. "Don't you want to do something else to me, Salvatore?"

The way she breathes my name drives me insane. There are so many fucking things I want to do to her. I want to taste her, to bury my face between her thighs and teach her how good a tongue on her clit can feel, fuck her with my fingers while I suck her into my mouth and make her come all over my face. Just the thought makes my cock throb dangerously, pre-cum spilling down the shaft as I clench my teeth against a moan. I refuse to let her see that she's getting to me. If she does, she'll take full advantage; I know that much.

I can't do it. If I let myself give in even that much, I'll fuck her the way I so desperately want to, instead of keeping this brief. I don't need to taste her to make her come. For the necessary part of this, all I need is my fingers. And I need to stick to what's necessary, and nothing more.

I slip two fingers into her, feeling the hot, velvet tightness of her pussy squeeze around them, and the sound of Gia's moan makes me feel dizzy with need. Every drop of blood in my body seems to have concentrated in my erection. I didn't know I could be this hard.

"Salvatore—" She moans my name again, writhing against my hand. "Please?—"

Her head has fallen back against the pillows, her breasts heaving, her hips arching as she chases the release I'm promising her. I sink my fingers deeper, feeling her helpless whimper of pleasure in my bones, and I grit my teeth.

I could show her things that the young, inexperienced man she was promised to couldn't have. I think she's starting to realize that—to be curious about it, at the very least—and I can't help but think that it might have been better for us both if she hadn't.

I want desperately to show her all of those things. But every time I come close to giving in, every time I let myself want her, the guilt settles back over me, tangling with my lust until I feel like I'm drowning in both. I hear her taunts in my head, telling me that my desires made me break my promises to her father, mocking me with my betrayal.

I believe, to the depths of myself, that I married her for the right reasons. That I threw Pyotr out of that church and made her my wife because I have a duty to keep her safe, because I want her protected. But if I let myself give in to my own desires, it won't just be about that anymore.

Then, she'll be right. I will have betrayed everything that I stood for, by taking what wasn't meant to be mine for myself.

I have to do this—to make her mine, so she can't be hurt by those who would use her against me. But I don't have to take so much pleasure in it.

Gia gasps again, letting out another frustrated whimper as I circle my thumb over her clit, curling my fingers inside of her. The desire to taste her is almost painful, it's so strong, but I focus on bringing her to her climax, ignoring the throb of my cock and the slick heat that begs for me to pleasure her in every way I know how.

"Come for me, dolce," I murmur, thrusting my fingers. "I know you want it. Come for me, my good girl."

She lets out a strangled, broken moan, shuddering against my hand as I feel her let go. She pulses around my fingers, her hands scrabbling at the sheets as she bucks and writhes, coming hard on my hand as her perfect mouth drops open and she cries out.

"Oh god—god—" she tosses her head, arching her hips into my hand, and I suck in a breath at the feeling of her velvet pussy squeezing again. I need her heat around my cock, need to feel her squeeze me like that.

It's been a long fucking time, and it takes everything in me not to shove her legs apart and bury myself to the hilt in an instant.

I withdraw my fingers slowly from her, suppressing a groan as I feel her clench again, like she doesn't want to lose the feeling of some part of me inside of her. "Spread your legs wider," I tell her roughly, wrapping my hand around my cock and giving myself one firm stroke. I want her arousal on my cock, want to feel it slick against my straining skin, and I allow myself that one small concession to my raging lust.

Her eyes flash, dark and heated in her beautifully flushed face, and I can see from the way her stomach tightens and her hands flinch against the sheets that my commands turn her on. She wants to pretend they don't, that she hates being told what to do. She'll fight me every step of the way, but her glistening, swollen pussy and her parted lips, her glossy eyes, and heaving chest tell a different story.

Slowly, she opens her thighs wider, without saying a word. The concession startles me and sends another jolt of lust racing through my veins, because it tells me just how turned on she is. She wants my cock so badly she's speechless, and my head spins, everything in me screaming to fuck her the way I imagined in my office days ago with my hand wrapped around myself.

My fantasies are running wild. Spread open for me like this, I can see every inch of her soaked pussy, her swollen clit peeking out from between her flushed folds, her tight entrance waiting for me. The urge to bury my face there and lick her to another orgasm is almost uncontrollable, but instead, I move closer, one hand on her thigh, the other wrapped around my cock as I angle myself against her entrance.

I suck in a hissing breath between my teeth as I feel her slick heat against my oversensitive cockhead. It's been months since I was inside a woman, and the recollection of just how good it feels makes my nerves tingle with a raw pleasure that sends another jolt through my aching cock, my own arousal adding to the slickness between Gia's thighs. She moans as I rub myself against her, clenching my teeth to suppress my own groans as I prepare to push inside of her.

I want more. I want everything. I want to rub the tip of my cock over her clit and watch her come on it as if she's using me like a toy. I want to eat her out and kiss her, so she tastes herself on my tongue. I want to fuck her mouth, her pussy, her ass, to claim every part of her body until she's learned how it feels to come while I fill every hole she has. A torrent of filthy, lustful thoughts fogs my mind, enough to make my cock throb dangerously and my balls tighten with the need to come.

I'm so close it hurts. And all I need to do is come inside her to finish this. So I clench my teeth, banishing every wanton fantasy of how I want to ravish her, and instead brace myself with one hand on the headboard as I guide my cock into her with the other.

The resistance is instant. Gia lets out a sharp breath as my swollen cockhead starts to breach her, her eyes screwing tightly shut with what must be pain. I go very still, the protective instinct that I have towards her overriding all the demands of my body to keep pushing further into her tight heat.

"Are you alright?" My voice comes out tight, raspy, and Gia nods, her eyes still closed.

"You're—so—big—" she breathes, the words a little shaky, and I feel the rumble of a laugh deep in my chest.

"That kind of flattery will send me over the edge before I'm even inside of you," I growl softly, feeling another jolt of sensation ripple down my spine as she tightens reflexively, rubbing against the very tip of my cock. "Relax, Gia. It will hurt less if you relax."

"I'm trying," she breathes. "You could make me come again?—"

I swallow hard. I know what she's trying to talk me into doing. She wants to know what my mouth feels like, and I feel a small pang of guilt for denying it to her. I married her, after all—doesn't she deserve all the pleasure she could feel within a marriage? But I know if I do—if I let myself taste her, if I find out what it's like for her to come on my tongue, we'll never get out of this bed. I'll keep her here for a week, unable to control myself any longer, and our marriage will be everything I've been trying so hard to keep it from becoming.

Instead, I let go of my cock, keeping the tip pressed against her as I slide my fingers over her swollen clit. She gasps, arching into my touch immediately, rubbing against me in a way that makes my head spin with pleasure. I've had a decent amount of sex in my life, but I can't recall it ever having felt this good, and I'm not even inside of her yet.

Truthfully, I can't remember anything having ever felt this good.

I feel her pushing against me as I rub my fingers in tight, quick circles over her, the sound of her moans and the feeling of her writhing against me on the verge of driving me mad. Her hips buck upwards into the sensation, and I feel myself slip into her, my tip sinking into the clenching velvet heat as Gia cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Good girl," I manage to gasp as another inch of my cock slides into her. "That's it. You're taking it so well."

She moans again at the praise, and I can feel her fluttering around me, her muscles tightening on the verge of another climax. She's so responsive that it makes me feel half-insane with desire, with wanting to find out all of the other ways I could make her respond to me.

"Salvatore—" She gasps out my name, and I can tell she's so lost in pleasure that she's forgotten to be angry with me. She's forgotten everything except how good my fingers feel, how good it feels for me to fill her up, better than she expected. "Please?—"

I know what she wants. She wants everything she was promised, everything that she fantasized about for her wedding night. She wants passion and romance, pleasure and a night filled with her every desire being sated. But I can't give her that.

Not without feeling as if I'm losing what scraps of my own honor I have left in the bargain.

I rub my fingers over her clit, almost roughly, driving her to the edge as I push forward, sinking into her to the hilt. The pleasure of it makes my teeth grind together, my back bowing as I feel her soft folds press against the base of my cock, my balls tight and painful as I rock deeper into her. She tightens around me, moaning helplessly as I push her over the edge with one more quick flick of my fingers. As her sounds of pleasure fill the air, I let my own climax follow hers.

I want to hold back. I want more than one stroke inside of her, more than just these brief seconds of feeling her exquisite pussy clenching around the sensitive length of my cock. But like so much else with her, I can't allow it. If I'm ready to come now—and god, I've been ready to come since she took her clothes off—then that's all that's needed to consummate our vows entirely.

I can't stop the groan that escapes me, a ragged sound of pleasure that slips through my clenched teeth as I shudder above her, my cock throbbing and my vision blurring as I fill her with my cum. She gasps, trembling underneath me as I allow myself one more thrust, my hand clenching in the pillow next to her head as I spurt inside of her, the sensation of it stronger than anything I've ever felt in my life. I've never come like this before. I couldn't have ever imagined it could feel this good.

"Fuck—" I breathe aloud before I can stop myself, rocking my hips against her, chasing the last jolts of sensation as I spill my remaining cum inside of her. Gia is moaning softly, her eyes open now as she looks up at me, and I feel like I can't catch my breath. My chest feels tight, my cock still raging hard, and I don't want to slide out of her. I want to stay here in the perfect, tight clutch of her forever.

Instead, I separate us with one swift movement, clenching my teeth against the sensation as I pull out of her and roll onto my back. My cock remains stubbornly hard, pressed to my abdomen and glistening with her arousal and my cum. Gia blinks at me, frozen completely still for a brief second.

"Is—is that it?" Her voice is a high squeak, disappointment plain in it, and inexplicable anger surges through me. Not so much at her as at myself—for not finding some other way to keep her safe, for getting us into this position in the first place, for being entirely unable to satisfy either of us. Her clear dissatisfaction pricks at my ego, especially when I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could show her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. I could make her come in ways she never imagined, satisfy her more than she ever thought possible.

And I'm not satisfied, either. Sinking myself into her as a matter of duty and then allowing myself to come moments later isn't what I want in bed. My stubborn erection is proof enough of that.

"I made you come twice," I mutter. "I thought you'd be happy with that."

Gia's mouth drops open. She lets out a sudden, shocked whimper, and then, to my surprise, bursts into tears.

It startles me so much that I don't know what to do at first. And before I can roll over and reach for her, before I can figure out what kind of comfort she might need, she grabs the sheet and wraps it around herself, yanking it off of the bed as she jumps out of it.

And then, as I stare after her, she flees the bedroom and runs out to the deck in tears.