Chapter Thirteen

Married. I'm married to Damiano, and I'm trying to process it. My heart raced the second he entered the room because I knew I'd been saved, but then he wanted so much more. How can I be his wife? We don't know each other, and like he confessed, he's so much worse than the men who held my life in their hands.

He came, like he said. I can't think about what he said he'd do to my stepfather and Tommy. They both deserve it, but it's not something I'm capable of witnessing. He's dark and insane, but I can't pull away and I don't want to.

I ride his lap all the way to his home, feeling his thick length against my bottom. Even though my head is reeling with everything he revealed, I can't fight the driving lust pouring through me. When he had me drop to my knees in front of Tommy, I felt power flood me. I was showing the bastard that he didn't own me. I wasn't his.

Damiano made it seem like he was forcing me, but I could see in his eyes there was always a choice. The way he touched me was too tender, and yet hungry at the same time. I missed him so much that I eagerly wanted to kiss him when I turned around to see him standing in front of me. I didn't want to run away from him.

"Good, because I won't let you go." Oh, shit. I said that out loud. "Come on. It's time to take you inside and show you your new home."

"My new home?" Wow. My mouth gapes open with surprise at the magnitude of his estate. It's larger than his parents' mansion.

"Yes, of course. You're my wife." Wife. This is all shocking, overwhelming, and I'm starting to freak out. I never expected my life to do a full one-eighty. Yes, Damiano is a criminal just like my stepfather and my ex-fiancé, but at least he wants to please me. I still, freezing in place. Fear engulfs me with the state of my new reality. For how long? Will he grow tired of me and start abusing me? Or leave me for his club to screw his women like he had me on the seat or in his office.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

He stares at me, reading me all too well. "What do you mean?"

"You froze. It's too late to back out now."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Bullshit. You're trying to figure out if this was a mistake. You were going to marry that piece of shit. Marrying me can't be worse than him."

I shake my head and take the hand he has proffered out. The jolt of electricity vibrates through me, but I hide my reaction. "Show me the house, or rather, the mansion. Seriously, how many people live here?"

"Inside the house, my housekeeper is the only one. Most of the men live on property around the estate or nearby. As you know, my parents live not too far away."

"Oh, yes, I remember." I blush because I wasn't just sleeping in a guest bedroom that night. I'd been in his bedroom, resting my head on his pillow, under his covers, dreaming of him on his sheets.

"You have no idea how hard it was to stay away. If I didn't have business, I would have been sneaking into my parents' house and into my old bedroom like a creature of the night, devouring your sweet body until you were begging me to keep you."

"That's where you were?" Shit, I gave myself away.

"Yes, my angel." He brushes his lips against my temple. I turn and look up at him, and he freezes. Before I can react, he pulls me in for a kiss. Goodness, my entire soul embraces his hold on me as he makes love to me with his mouth. He's such an expert with his touch that I fall apart with a simple kiss, my walls breaking effortlessly. Damiano is truly talented and more dangerous than all the other predators I've known before, because he easily lures me in and I forget that I should run away.

He steps back slightly and looks at my lips. "That's a great look on you."

"What look?" I sigh, clinging to his chest.

"Desirous and hungry." The heat between my legs amplifies. I'm soaked with need. My lace panties are doing no good holding back the wetness. I'm about to make a puddle soon if I don't get some relief.

"Will you show me your bedroom?" I ask, giving up all pretense.

He taps my ass. "Our bedroom."

"Our bedroom," I repeat, biting down on my bottom lip, blushing in the process.

"So fucking sexy. The tour can wait. I need to strip you bare and finally claim you. It's been two days, and I can't wait any longer." He scoops me up in his strong arms, carries me up the stairs like a madman, and rushes into a bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

"You weren't kidding."

"Don't joke about anything, Stella," he growls, voice thick and heavy with need. He sets me down before taking the ties to my robe and tugging them free. The silk falls to the floor, pooling at my feet.

He pulls out a knife, eyes darkened with an angry glint to them. "These have to go. You wore them for someone else."

I shake my head, staring at those dangerous, territorial orbs. "No, I wore them for you."

His brows raise, questioning me. "What?"

"I hoped you'd come."

"What if I hadn't?"

"He was never going to see me in them." I remember the bag and the bottle. Swallowing hard, I put that sick thought out of my head because he came and there was no need for my plans.

"Then, my wife, strip for me. Show me what you have for your husband. I've stolen you, and I want you to show me what I get." He tucks the blade away in a drawer next to the bed before sliding off his suit jacket, and then he sits on the bed in front of me. "Now, Mrs. Valentino. It's time to show me what I don't deserve but have taken with sinful pleasure."

I should be nervous, but Damiano makes me feel alive, and I'll do whatever I can to get that high again and again. Arching my throat, I tilt my head, letting it roll once as I pull out the pin Gracie put in my hair and let the rest of my hair cascade over my shoulders.

He groans. "Fuck." His cock twitches in his gray slacks, so he undoes his belt, opening the top button.

I bite my lip and then reach in front where my bra clasp is and pop it open. My decently large breasts spill free, and he lets out a rapid succession of curses and praises while removing his clothes. I'm heated all over as I brush my hands over my chest and work lower down to my panties.

I don't get to slide them down before he's on me, lifting me onto the bed and setting me on my back with his strong body pinning me to the mattress. Our mouths meet in a frenzied kiss, lips connecting hard and fast, tongues sliding inside and dancing together with heated need. My hands thrust into his short black hair, tugging and pulling, turning his head all around while he grinds his hips forward. Then he suddenly pushes off me.

"What?"

"I need to eat your sweet cunt. It's been on my mind since we met, and I won't stop until I have that hot slit on my tongue. You only gave me a taste before you ran from me. I would have spread you wide and devoured your sopping wet cunt until you were screaming my name that night." I hadn't wanted to leave. I dreamed about him eating me out over and over again, sliding his tongue across my sensitive nub while I begged him to let me come.

Snaking his broad body down my tiny one, he looks up at me, eyes darker and mouth curling up with a wicked smirk. "Mine." The one word is all I need to feel another gush of fluid slide between my lower lips. He cups my breasts, running his tongue along the underside of each one before working his way to his goal. My hungry husband wants my pussy so bad; he grips my panties and with a quick tug, they're torn right off.

"Oops."

"I don't have any clothes," I remind him.

"Good. You naked is a gorgeous sight." His voice gets deeper, and my slit gives another pearl of liquid for him to drink up. I can't hide my desire for this man. Damiano grabs my calves and parts my thighs, settling his upper body right between them. "You smell so damn good, baby girl." He runs his nose along my mound before his mouth latches onto my pussy, and I arch my back right off the mattress, springing upward.

"Oh my God."

He chuckles and says, "God's not here. The devil only. I'm going to hell for corrupting an angel."

"Yes, that's right. Dame. Oh." I cling to the sheets for dear life. My feet dig into the mattress as I feel him push a finger into me. His thick tongue flattens over my hole, hitting every sensitive spot. "I'm going to come."

"Come for me, Angel. Come on my tongue."

He pumps his finger into me, then adds a second one and I'm losing my head, shaking. I grab his head, pressing his face into my pussy, rubbing it while I scream his name. My thighs shake as I orgasm wildly. This is so much more intense than the first time, and then he slowly rises up, looking dark and dangerous.

"Stella, are you ready to give your husband that tight pussy?"

"Yes."

"Wife, answer me properly."

"Yes, Husband."

"Good. Damn, that sounds so fucking good." His cock presses at my entrance, and then he pushes his way through. Even though he popped my cherry at the club with his hand, I'm being stretched painfully with his thick cock.

"Breathe, baby girl."

"You're so big. I thought it would be easier."

"I only broke your cherry. You have to get used to me. I'm not a small man," he says. He rocks slowly, and little by little I get used to his size. We move together, thighs rubbing, hips grinding as sweat beads down our bodies. My skin's tingling, and then I feel it right where I experienced it before.

"That's it, my angel. Let me hear you. Don't be shy. I want to hear those moans that were muffled between your sexy thighs." Right on cue, his fingers slide between us and he runs them over my little bud, rubbing it while taking my mouth in a kiss. "Fuck, your pussy is unbearably tight, Stella. So fucking tight." He grinds his hips, rocking in and out, dragging that massive length through me and I slam my eyes shut, trying to fight off my orgasm, but the man sends desire with every stroke like he was made just for me. It can't be right. He's sinfully bad, and I need to control this, yet I can't. Pleasure vibrates through my body. Damiano's head drops to my throat. "Wife, get out of that head. Stay with me and open those sexy eyes like you opened those luscious thighs."

"Damiano, it's happening again," I breathe against his mouth as we break for air.

"Good. Come for me because you're killing me. I'm doing my best, but your tight pussy is irresistible."

"I'm coming again," I cry out, nails digging into his back.

"Good girl, because I need to fuck this hole." He roars his need, and I feel his release filling me up as we move in time and slow down. "Perfect." He wipes the sweat from my brow and then kisses me again. I can't stop smiling when he slips out of me and then pulls me into his arms and holds me tight.

"Today wasn't like I expected."

"It was better than I expected."

"Oh yeah? Did you think I would be terrible in bed?"

"No, I didn't know if you'd let me have you."

"You would have waited if I wanted?"

"Of course. It would have drove me more insane than normal, but I'm not into rape." He brushes his lips against my temple. "Although if you'll excuse me, I do have some matters that need my attention. While we've been here, our guests have been waiting."

"I don't have any clothes."

"Oh, sweetheart, these guests you won't be seeing again. My sister will bring you clothes later. For now, rest." I close my eyes and pretend that I'm not bothered by what he just said. He's going to go kill people after just fucking me like it's not a big deal. Then again, it's my abuser and my buyer, so I can't really be upset that my husband would want to make them pay.

"Is my stepsister one of them?" I ask, wondering if he plans to kill her too.

"Would it matter if she was one of them?" he questions, dressing in sweats. Why does he look good dressed in such basic clothes?

"I don't know." I shrug.

"I'm not doing anything to her. As much as I'd love to snap her neck, I've had enough of her touch on my skin to last a lifetime. Sleep." He walks out of our bedroom. His words hit me like a truck—he's fucked my stepsister. My stomach turns, and I'm out of the bed and into the bathroom, vomiting violently.