CHAPTER SEVEN

ARIES

The second we walk into the hotel room she starts complaining endlessly. I close the door behind me, turn to her as she fans herself, "Is it hot in here? It's hot in here, right?"

Shaking my head I say, "Not really. It's comfortable."

Dalia gazes around the room as I unbutton my shirt. It's a large room, penthouse of course, and it's massive. The floor-to-ceiling windows are my favorite because I love the lights of the city at night. In the main room there's a black baby grand piano, a black sectional along with a couple of sitting chairs. There is also a small, but fully functional, kitchen where the bar is and I walk over after tossing my shirt on a chair and make myself a whiskey, "Do you want a drink?" I ask her.

The bedroom is down the hall and has a king-sized bed, a seventy some odd inch tv screen and more sitting chairs, a dresser, and armoire. I know because when I come to Vegas this is always the room I get. I know what I like and tend to not deviate from it. I turn around when I didn't get an answer, and notice she must've gone to investigate the room.

Taking my drink with me, I walk down the hallway and step into the bedroom, Dalia's eyes widen as she stares at my chest and swallows hard. Surely she's seen a man's chest before. Her tongue darts out, and swipes across her lips, "Well," she says causing me to chuckle. My laughter ends quickly when she starts yelling again, "Oh my god, it's so hot. Why is it so hot? This must be what hell feels like."

Pulling the plastic tiara out of her hair, she tosses it on the floor and quickly begins removing her dress. A gentleman would look away, probably. Good thing I'm not a gentleman. This is a show I wouldn't miss for anything. I nearly stop breathing when she puts her arms behind her back and unhooks her white lacy bra, she slides it down her arms and reveals the most beautiful set of tits I've ever seen. Fuck. I'm aching to throw her on the bed and suck them between my lips, and find out how responsive she is to nipple stimulation. Would she whimper for me? Pull away from my mouth or push into it? I intend to find out, but not tonight. She's probably not far from crashing and that's not how I want her.

Then she hooks her thumbs into her panties and drags them down her legs. Curvy, smooth, tanned legs that I immediately imagine wrapped around my head while she writhes in pleasure. My gaze trails down her body, taking in inch by inch, nearly salivating when I spot that perfectly smooth pussy with just a small landing strip at the top, fucking perfection.

"Are you tired? I'm tired."

"Exhausted," I smirk at her. There is no possibility of me sleeping anytime soon, when all I want to do is fucking devour my wife. Setting my glass down on the armoire, I watch her get into bed, and join her after removing my pants and boxers. It's going to be a long fucking night.

Did I sleep last night? Not a wink. I was far too consumed with staring at my beautiful bride. The same one that probably has no clue that she now has a husband. She agreed to it. However, I thought a little mixture of drugs in her drink might make her a little more pliant. And that she was. When she stripped herself naked and threw herself at me, it took all of my restraint to not claim her. She is my wife, after all. However, I didn't because I want her to remember when I shove into her for the first time. And I wasn't entirely convinced she'd stay awake while I fucked her. Penetrating a sleeping woman is not my thing. I like them wide awake, crying and screaming for me.

Her eyes pop open, followed by the sweetest gasp I've ever heard, she touches her breasts and realizes she's naked. Dalia jumps up onto the bed, trying to cover her naughty bits, but she's unsuccessful. I can see her beautiful body just fine. I lie on the bed watching her freak out, with my hands behind my head casually, as she spots the ring on her finger.

"No!" she screams as the realization sinks in. She falls to her knees, "I wouldn't. There's no way."

I grin at her shocked expression, "Good morning. Sleep well, Wife?"

"Why are you here? Why am I here? Where are we?" she questions as she glances around the room with panic.

"Where are we?" she repeats and I chuckle, "Vegas, baby."

I narrow my gaze as I get up from my lying position, "Sit."

Dalia grabs the sheet and wraps it around her body and does as she was told. Even covered up she looks stunning, with her dark hair messy around her shoulders, her green eyes wide with fear as she stares at me with apprehension, and I fucking love it.

"Last night, I told you we would be married or your brothers would go to prison. You agreed, so now we're husband and wife."

Dalia stares at me in utter disbelief, "Why?"

Yeah, this is probably my fault since I drugged her, and that's why she is having trouble with her memory.

"Do you not remember anything?"

"Bits and pieces," she says with a sigh. "I remember some things. Oh my God."

I chuckle at her deer in the headlights expression, "My sister is missing, probably being raped right fucking now, and your idiot brothers have refused to help, but now that we're family, I'm sure they'll have a change of heart."

"You're disgusting," she bites with a sour look on her face.

I grab her arms and toss her onto her back. Watching Dalia sleep naked all night long was pure torture. More than once she rolled over in her sleep, pressing her naked body to mine. It's finally time, I'm hard as a rock, and she's going to find out exactly what she does to me. Those fucking breathy moans while she was dreaming did me in. Holding her arms over her head, I rub my cock against her clit, "Tell me how disgusting I am while I make you come."

"Don't!" She yells with a terrified look on her face. Interesting.

I smile because I know she can feel my breath on her neck, "Do you not like to come, Princess?"

She squeaks, sounding panicked, "I never have. Please don't."

I groan because this is the best news I've ever heard, "Oh baby, you got me a wedding present. Now be a good little Wife and bleed for me."

The tears spring to her eyes, but that's not going to stop me from taking what I want and what's rightfully mine. The fact is, she may not remember consenting to be my wife but she did. And husbands fuck their wives. I sure as hell am going to make mine scream.

"You think your sister is being raped right now and you're going to rape me? After what I've been through? Are you that morally corrupt, Aries?"

Fuck.

She looks up at me from those goddamn emerald eyes that feel like they're piercing my soul, "Just because we're married doesn't mean this isn't rape. This is why I can't trust men. Please don't add to the reasons for that."

I raise my hands, letting her know she can relax. Dalia breathes a sigh of relief, "I have to pee."

She goes to get off the bed and crashes to the floor, I go over to her and offer her my hand to help her up, and am met with a body shaking giggle, and sparkling eyes, "What's wrong, Aries? Did you not realize the woman you forced into marriage is a complete klutz?"

I don't respond, instead, I stand frozen on the spot, mesmerized by that laugh and the way it brought her entire face to life. It's like watching a still life portrait turn into a movie. It was already beautiful on its own, but suddenly there's life to it you never imagined possible. While I'll never admit it to her, I know, I'm in way over my head.

Getting off the bed, I grab my cell phone to check and see if there's any news on my sister. Of course there isn't. Glancing up from where I stand, I find my new wife standing in my black t-shirt with a fucking gun in her hand, pointed straight at me. Why the fuck is this hot? She could kill me, and instead of fearing that fact, I'm so hard it hurts. But I'm not a complete idiot, I know I need to get that gun from her before I fuck her.

"I suggest you put the fucking gun down, Princess. This is your final warning before I take it from you and fuck you with it."

She tilts her head with a curious glance, "You can't fuck someone with a gun."

I grin at my new wife, "You'd be surprised with the things I can and will fuck you with, Wife. Now put the fucking gun down. They are dangerous weapons. You should never point a gun at someone unless you have the intention of firing."

The sadistic smile that crosses her face proves to me she is a De Luca, "Oh I promise you, husband. I never point a gun unless I'm prepared to shoot."

Dalia tightens her grip on the firearm, steadies her stance and, for a moment, I wonder if I'm about to be a dead man.

"Dalia," I growl loudly, letting her know I'm not fucking around. I've never been on this side of a gun because nobody has ever been stupid enough to aim one at me. Sure, I've been stabbed in a fight or two, but I've not been shot. Trust me, many wish I were dead but no man has had the balls to attempt it. Only my wife does apparently. I try to jump out of the way when she pulls the trigger, but it grazes my arm.

My ears fucking ring from the gun shot, as I narrow my gaze at her shocked expression, "You fucking shot me. Run, Wife, if I catch you, I'll make you scream."

Anybody else would be concerned about the police showing up with a gun going off however, I'm not. The staff at this hotel know exactly who I am and to not disturb what's about to fucking happen.