Chapter Nine

Finley

Domani stands beside me in front of the judge, his fingers laced through mine, speaking his vows in that deep rumble I love so much. His voice doesn't waver or shake. He's calm and confident, promising to love, honor, and cherish me for the rest of his days.

When it's my turn to repeat the same words, my voice trembles with emotion. I mean them with every fiber of my being. It's scary how intensely I love this man and how fast it crept over me. But I'm not fighting it anymore, and I'm done questioning it. If he wants my soul, it's his to take. He can have my heart, my body, every inch of me.

He holds my gaze captive as he slips the ring we picked out together on my finger, emotion swirling in his eyes. Tears swim in mine, momentarily blinding me. I don't hear what the judge says after that. All of my attention is on the man in front of me. My husband. My lover. My world.

Somehow, despite the sword dangling over our heads, he made today perfect. I have a dress, flowers, and a beautiful ring. He's in a tux, looking like a freaking model. I never dreamed about a wedding, but this is everything I could have wanted. It's everything.

"By the power vested in me by the State of Missouri, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you man and wife. Mr. Brambilla, you may kiss your beautiful bride."

Domani cups my cheek, stepping toward me. His lips come down on mine. He kisses me with fierce devotion, pouring every part of himself into it as the ladies from the front counter clap politely.

"Io e te per sempre," he whispers against my lips.

"You and me forever," I whisper back in English.

He smiles, pressing his forehead to mine before he wraps me up in his arms. The judge steps forward to congratulate us and then shuffles us off to the side of his desk to sign the license. Within an hour of entering the Marriage License office, we're officially husband and wife. We stop long enough to file the license, and then head out.

As soon as we're outside, he scoops me into his arms, his mouth slanting down on mine again. "You're mine now, mio sole," he growls against my lips, his kiss hot and wild, unrestrained. "Mine."

"Then take me to our room and prove it, husband."

"Fuck. Say that again."

"Husband," I whisper.

He practically runs to the SUV with me in his arms. I laugh the whole way, happier than I've ever been.

"Wait," he says thirty minutes later, placing his hand on my arm before I can step onto the elevator. Before I can ask what's wrong, he's sweeping me back up into his arms. "I'm supposed to carry you, tesoro."

"That's only over the threshold of our home, Domani."

"No, it's everywhere I say it is."

I smile, touching his cheek. For a man with more blood on his hands than I can comprehend, he's awfully sweet. I love that about him. He is who he is, but his soul is fully intact, untouched by the evil that would have tainted a lesser man than he.

He strides onto the elevator, hitting the button for our floor. Our reflections bounce back from the chrome walls. Him in his tuxedo. Me in my white dress. His olive skin and dark hair like a backdrop for my reds and whites. Somehow, despite our differences, we look as if we fit.

The elevator slides to a stop on our floor. He steps off, moving aside for a middle-aged couple who smile brightly and offer their congratulations.

"We're married," I say as we walk away.

The couple hear me and laugh.

Domani chuckles. "Yeah, we are, tesoro."

"I'm a wife."

"Yes. Mine." He dips his head, his lips brushing mine. "And I'm your husband."

"Walk faster," I order him, my core clenching when he says it.

He grins and hurries his pace.

I use the time wisely, nuzzling my face into his throat. Tasting his skin. Dragging my teeth along the tendon of his neck. He growls, his body tense around mine. He's turned on. I feel it pulsing in the air around us like a tangible, living thing.

"You're asking for trouble, mio sole."

"No, I'm not asking for anything, Domani." I press my lips against his ear, running my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm begging for it."

He growls wordlessly, balancing me between his hard body and the wall beside the door to our room. Within seconds, it's open, and he's storming through. It slams behind us. He pushes me up against it, pinning my hands beside my head.

His teeth sink into the sensitive skin where my neck and my shoulder meet. He wastes no time dragging my dress up my thighs. I'm not a traditional bride, and I didn't pick a traditional dress. The off-the-shoulder number is all lace. The A-Line bottom hits just above the knees, flaring out into a full, fluffy skirt. It's short and daring. I feel like a true princess in it.

I know Domani loves it. He nearly came unglued when I stepped out of the dressing room in it. He's been hard ever since.

"This isn't going to be sweet and gentle," he warns me, dragging the top down to expose my breasts. "I need you too fucking badly."

"Good. Who said I wanted sweet?" I don't. I just want him. There's plenty of time for sweet and gentle later. I know he'll give me that. He'll make me take my time. God knows, he'll take his. Until I'm ready to burst apart at the seams. There is no hurrying Domani. When he decides he wants to make love to me, he sends me to another plane of existence, one singular touch at a time. He did it over and over again last night. The man is a beast in the bedroom, focused solely on me and my pleasure.

But right now, I just want him inside me, claiming me in every way I can be claimed. I want his ring on my finger and his cock inside me. I want his name on my lips and his hands in my hair. I want him. Period.

"Get my cock out," he orders before his teeth close around my nipple. He releases my hands, letting me set to work. I tear through the button on his pants, sending it bouncing across the floor.

Before I have his cock out, he's tearing my panties off…his fingers are inside me. I lose track of what I'm doing. His name falls from my lips in a loud moan.

"Get my cock out, Finley," he demands, delivering a punishing bite to my right nipple. The sting goes straight to my clit. The loud, wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of me make me wetter, hotter.

I wrap my hand around his shaft, pulling his cock from his pants. It's so beautiful. I don't know if dicks are supposed to be pretty, but his fascinates me. Or maybe that's simply because I know what he can do with it. I know the way it makes me feel. If there's anything in this world better than this man fucking me, I won't survive it.

He lifts me, the head of his cock at my entrance. His eyes meet mine, his expression hot and wild. Full of some emotion I'm not sure I know how to name. Obsession? Possession? Complete capitulation to the bond growing between us? Whatever it is, it's vast and powerful, pulling me under with it.

"Ti amo, mio sole."

I don't know Italian, but I know that one. I love you.

He thrusts forward, groaning as he fills me. I don't get a chance to respond. I don't get a chance to process either. He moves like a storm, fucking me hard and deep. Pounding into me until the door rattles, and I'm screaming his name loud and then louder.

I'm sure half the hotel can hear us. I'm also sure I don't care. Let them.

"Ti amo," he growls, his eyes at half-mast as he claims every piece of my soul. "Ti amo, Finley."

I splinter apart in his arms, shattering like glass. He falls with me, groaning my name low and deep. I float, caught somewhere between heaven and earth, in that place where forever doesn't seem so impossible after all.

Please, God, don't let it be impossible.

"Did you mean it?" I ask when he pulls me away from the wall, wrapping his arms around me. I hate how small my voice sounds and how vulnerable I feel, but right now, I am small and vulnerable. And I need him to tell me this isn't another dream.

"More than I've ever meant anything. I love you."

"Domani, I…"

He presses his fingers to my lips. "Not yet, mio sole."

I lift my gaze to his, not understanding.

"I know how you feel about me, Finley. I feel it when you touch me. But I don't want to hear you say it until you know that we're going to survive this," he murmurs. "That's when it'll be real to you."

"It's real to me now, Domani. You're real to me now."

A smile ghosts across his lips. "I know, tesoro. But you can't give me all of your heart right now because it isn't whole. Until you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this isn't the end for you, it won't be whole. When you know that you're truly free and this is just the beginning for you, you tell me how you feel. Until then, I'll wait. However long it takes."

"Domani," I whisper, tears welling in my eyes. What did I ever do to deserve him? How can I ever? He knows me better than I know myself. And he cares for me in a way that no one ever has, even at the expense of himself. I love him with everything I have. And I hate that he's right. Part of me can't belong to him right now because that part is still caged up tight, bound in ropes of fear. It never left my uncle's house. Until it does, my uncle still owns it. He still owns part of me.

But I'm so fucking scared that I'm going to lose the man in front of me; I don't know how to let it go. I have something to lose now. Something I need more than I need freedom or life or breath. And that's exactly why my uncle will fight like hell to take it from me.

"I need you to do something for me, mio sole," Domani murmurs a while later, running his hands through my hair. "I need you to stay here while I go back."

"No."

"Finley."

"No, Domani." I lift my head, pinning him with a fierce look. "If you go back, I go back."

"Chicago is the last place you need to be right now."

I laugh abruptly. "It's no safer for you. Don't think I don't know what you risked when you took me from my uncle. I was born into this life, too. I know the rules just as well as you do. You betrayed your oath. Your own family will hunt you down and kill you if they find you."

He says nothing, but he doesn't have to say it. I know why he's looking over his shoulder and being so careful. It isn't because he's worried my uncle will find us. It's because he's worried his own people will. He broke the rules when he took me. He interfered in Irish business and left his family open for retaliation. My uncle could start a war over it if he wanted. He likely will.

It's been his plan all along. To find some weakness to exploit. To find some vulnerability to use. He just never anticipated that they'd make the first move by taking me. He won't forgive that slight. Not now, not ever.

"You don't belong in Chicago right now, Finley."

"Well, you can't leave me here. Because if you do, I'll just follow you."

"Cazzo," he growls, pinching the bridge of his nose. But he isn't angry. I know he isn't because dark amusement glints in his eyes when he moves his hand. "You would follow me, wouldn't you?"

"Yep."

He shakes his head, sighing. "Fine, tesoro. You'll return with me. But you'll do as I say." He hits me with a withering stare. "If you don't and your uncle gets his hands on you, I'll burn Chicago to the fucking ground to get you back, regardless of who gets hurt in the process."

He means it. The truth is right there in his eyes, blazing like unholy fire. This man wouldn't just wage war to keep me. He'd burn the whole world to ash.