Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

ALYSSA

B rynne is dressed and ready; her mom has flown in and is finishing the touches on her hair.

The morning of preparations flew by as we giggled, talked about old times, and had too many mimosas. It was perfect. Even if I’ve been fighting the urge to run from this church since I arrived. This is Brynne’s day, and it’s got nothing to do with me and my fucked-up views, so I’ve kept myself together for the most part.

My commitment fear runs so deep. Anxiety has been gnawing at my nerves like a hungry beast for hours. It’s wearing me down.

Once I get to the reception, I’ll be fine. There’s an open bar, and I’ll drown my worries and feelings in a smooth, dark liquor.

“You doing okay, Lyss?” Brynne asks as her mom steps out into the hall.

I grin, feeling as fake as Monopoly money. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Lyss.” She sighs, turning away from the mirror to walk towards me.

My bottom lip wobbles. “Please, B. Don’t. I’m keeping it together. This is your day.”

“I know.” Her hands slide down my exposed shoulders. My dress is strapless and has a deep cut between my breasts. I chose a shade of red I wasn’t certain Brynne would love, but I knew Dante would.

Half of me hates that I considered him when buying it. The other half can’t wait for him to see me in it.

“I know how much weddings freak you out, so thank you for being here,” she says, and guilt builds in my stomach.

I never realized how much my fear of commitment controlled my life until I entered this world. With people surrounding me who love fiercely, it’s hard to ignore how different I am.

“I’m fine. You’re my best friend, Brynne. Of course, I had to be here,”

“The amount of good-looking men outside these doors is absurd,” Brynne’s mom says, coming back into the room. “Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt?”

“No,” we both say in unison.

“I’m going to go take a moment and check on things. I’ll see you out there?” I ask Brynne.

She smiles. “I’ll be the one in the dress,” she replies, smirking giddily.

“Really?”

“I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“I think you’re supposed to say it to your husband-to-be.”

She shrugs. “You have to seize opportunities as they come.”

I swallow as her words hit me deeper than she’d meant them.

I quickly exit and nearly make it to the front doors to get some fresh air when I spy Dante standing in their fissure. He’s greeting people and looking so fucking sexy in his suit, filling it out as if Armani tailored it for him specifically.

My heart beats rapidly in my throat, and I make a sharp turn to avoid his eyes, landing myself in the coat room I set up this morning with a church volunteer. I was the first one here this morning, working with mafia wives Lorenzo had tasked with decorating.

I met the priest and spoke to him about Brynne and Slate’s vows and their specific preferences for the wedding.

At the very back of five racks of coats, I find a windowsill and lean against it. When I hear the door open and the sounds of people conversing in the vestibule filter in, I shrink into the window as if it’ll make me invisible.

“There you are,” Dante says, and my eyes fly open.

I hoped to avoid him until the ceremony and then sneak out to the reception hall first thing. Seeing him dressed up has me very off-kilter when I was already so anxious to be here in the first place.

“Tesoro, are you alright? Your breathing is erratic?!”

He places a hand on my forehead, checking me for a fever.

I swat him away, feeling as if I’m hyperventilating. “I’m fine,” I gasp out.

“The fuck you are. Goddamnit, Alyssa.” He cups his hands over my face. “Breathe through it. You’re just having a panic attack. Come on, this will help. I don’t have a paper bag.”

I’m still frantically trying to get air when it feels too thin to breathe. My chest feels heavy, and I feel stupid.

This wedding has nothing to do with me. It’s not about me or my bullshit fears, but telling my subconscious that is like trying to baptize a cat.

“Look at me,” Dante orders. “Look into my eyes, tesoro.”

I try to focus on his face as the world around me blurs.

“I’ve got you. Do me a solid, yeah? Breathe in deep and hold it.”

I do so, and then he proceeds to count to ten. “When you breathe out, I want you to do so as you count to nine in your head. Don’t let all the air out until you hit nine, okay?”

I nod, blowing my air out into his hands as I count.

He nods as he seems satisfied that I’m calming down.

“One more time.”

I listen, and he removes his hands from over my mouth.

“One more time.”

By the time I was entirely calm, I had done the exercise five times.

I stand from the sill and hug him. “Thank you.”

I don’t let myself overthink any part of it as I let him hold me through all the bullshit I’ve built up inside me. I’ve created this fear.

“It’s alright, my menace. I’ve got you,” he says, dropping his lips to my ear and skimming the shell with the tip of his tongue.

“Dante,” I breathe, turning my face into his as my body prickles with awareness and lust.

“You can stay here with me. They’ll understand. You stay where it’s safe, here in this coat room.”

I nearly choke on a sob as it tries to break free, but I contain it. I don’t want to ruin my makeup or this day with my pesky emotions.

“You look so fucking beautiful today, Alyssa,” he whispers, and my knees nearly buckle as I grow wet, arousal soaking my panties.

He backs me to the sill and pulls up my dress in one hand.

For a moment, I forget we’re in a church.

Forget this is wrong.

Forget everything.

He crouches before me, shoving my panties to the side as I grab my dress and hold it up for him.

His eyes ogle my exposed pussy as he grins.

“Dante,” I whisper, “this is a church!”

He smirks. “And yet,” his fingers swipe through my wetness, “you’re fucking soaked.”

I whimper as he keeps rubbing through my lips, fingers finally shoving inside me as he leans forward and strikes his tongue over my pussy like a starved man in search of water.

“Fuck, yes!” I let my head fall back to the window. Anyone could walk by and know what’s happening or see us. But I don’t care.

All the fear and hesitation slips from my body as Dante makes me forget anything exists outside us.

It’s only a couple of minutes until I’m coming on his tongue, gripping his hair tightly as I shudder out the last of my orgasm.

He stands, freeing himself from his pants as he shoves inside me fervently.

I wrap around him, my backside still on the concrete windowsill.

“Deeper,” I beg, and he bends his knees and does his level best to give me what I want and need.

His piercings massage the inner walls of my body that had only just come violently.

I keep sliding off the sill, and Dante growls as he lifts me off my feet and walks me to a wall behind a rack; I wrap my legs around him, screaming too loud as he hits just the right fucking spot.

“There’s my little menace, fuck, it’s good to have you back.”

“Shut up and fuck me. Harder, yes, right there…” I let my head fall back to the wall as impending orgasm rides the lines of bleeding through me again.

“My day, huh?” Slate says, and I bury my face in Dante’s neck so he can’t see who’s with him.

His pants are at his ankles, ass cheeks exposed as he doesn’t stop fucking me.

He takes one hand off my ass to reach into his breast pocket and get the ring out. He tosses it to Slate, and Slate catches it.

“Sorry, Boss. Had something to handle,” he says, returning his attention to me. “Something significant.” He whispers the last part as he takes my lips, tongue searing into mine.

“Give him hell!” Slate shouts, words meant for me.

Unthinking, I shout back, “I plan on it.”

Dante grins as he thrusts up deeper, harder, stealing my breath. “That so, tesoro?”

“Please, Dante, fuck!”

He leans forward, pressing me into the wall more. “I love to hear my name from your lips. It’s a fucking addiction of mine.”

I smirk, whispering in his ear. “Make me come, Dante.”

“You want to come, greedy whore?” he asks me.

I nod. “I do. I want to come so bad,” I whimper.

He pulls out of me and places me on my feet. “Make me come first. Then and only then will you come again.”

My heart is thrashing, and I can’t fathom his words.

“On your knees, slut.”

He most definitely found out my kink.

I slide to my knees, keeping my eyes on his as he angles his dick downward. “Suck me clean. Make me come. Then I’ll make that pretty cunt come again.”

I open my mouth, and before I can move of my own volition, he dives inside, leaning his hands on the wall and caging me in with his massive body.

Fuck, he’s so hot.

“That a girl. Gag on it,”

I do so, making a godawful sound that doesn’t belong in a church, and he moans.

“Fuck yeah, do it again. Gag on my big dick like a good fucking girl,” he rasps.

Over and over, I gag, my makeup running down my face from my tears and my pussy sopping wet at the sounds he makes.

“One of these days, when you’re mine, when you’ve finally come to terms with it, I’m going to come inside that pretty cunt. I’m going to fill you and make you leak for days.”

Anxiety prickles back into awareness, but he takes a hand off the wall and slaps my face.

Hard.

I flick my eyes up at him, confused about why a rush of wetness came instead of anger.

“Mm, there’s no time for your nerves here, tesoro. Suck me dry.”

My eyes stay on his, watching what each bob of my mouth on him does to him.

I add a hand behind my mouth, jacking over his cock and his piercings.

“You like that?” he asks, and I’m confused until he slaps my face again.

My core clenches. “You’re going to be my good little whore, aren’t you?”

I nod, losing my rhythm with my mouth.

“Of course you are. Look at you, on your fucking knees, mouth full of cock, in a house of worship.” He groans, and I know he’s close.

“Fuck, here it comes, you fucking dirty slut. Swallow every drop, or I’ll spank you so fucking hard you have to beg for forgiveness loud enough that everyone in this church will hear,” he rushes out as he grips his hand over mine and moves it faster.

It’s so hot that I don’t bother feeling like I’m not good enough.

“Fuckkkk, Alyssa!” he manages, cum thrusting to the back of my throat. I fight to swallow, his musky flavor permeating my tastebuds.

Before I can think, he drops in front of me, turns me around, and lifts my dress over my ass.

He rips my panties to shreds as he prepares to impale me.

“But you just came…” My worries and anxieties flare as I think about his come still leaking from his tip and being inside me.

He leans forward, wiping the tip of his dick on my expensive, designer dress.

“You want my cock or not?”

“Yes, please. I’m sorry,” I reply in panic.

“Then shut the fuck up and let me have you,” he says, effectively pulling me from my head as I reach back and pull one ass cheek to the side, opening my body to him.

“Fuck, you little whore.”

My stomach warms, buzzing from the ruined orgasm earlier still at the surface.

He shoves inside me, and I forget everything other than the feel of him and how badly I want to come.

“Fuck, look how you take me. Your pussy was made for my cock.”

His words only add more tension as my body races for climax.

“Don’t stop,” I beg as I feel him peeling his pace back.

“Alyssa, I—” he manages hoarsely in warning, but I don’t listen.

“Harder. Don’t fucking stop!” I order, and he doubles down.

I hear him cry out in a strangled moan as he gives me everything I need. Everything he promised as I sucked his cock like his good girl.

I come so hard I see stars, screaming his name as my best friend marries the man of her dreams.

“Goddamnit, menace. I’m so sorry,” he says, genuine apology in his voice.

“What?!” I manage as I turn and sit against the wall.

My eyes catch his cock as it leaks cum to the floor, and my heart races.

“Did you come in me?” I ask, voice shaky.

“I tried to warn you, and you wouldn’t listen,” he says.

“Oh God,” I reach down and shove fingers inside myself, feeling his warm cum mingled with mine.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Dante says, and I flicker my eyes at him in disgust.

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…. I’m so sorry, tesoro.”

I stand, gathering my shoes that had fallen off and my ruined panties as I make for the door to find a bathroom. “I’m not your fucking tesoro , Dante.”

“Alyssa, come here. I’m sorry.”

His words are the only thing pounding through my head as I run for the bathroom while everyone is unaware inside the church.

Dante Ricci has ruined me.

He’s my nightmares come to life.

He’s also just ruined the illusion that what we have is good.

Every fear I’ve ever had comes slamming into me as I find a toilet and try to push every ounce of his cum out of me.

Tears wash down my face as my world feels like it’s coming apart at the seams.

And one man holds the knife.