THE WEDDING

The intricately embroideredwedding gown clings to my curves, moving with me gracefully. Hard to believe how well the strapless gown manages to stay in place, even with my ample bosom. I had considered a classic A-line skirt for a more traditional princess look, but ultimately opted for something chic and elegant for my big day. The gown flows out around my feet, with delicate silver beads sewn throughout and jeweled accents on the corset. The tiara on my head only added to the fairytale feel of it all.

As I stand outside the doorway, I take deep breaths and try to steady myself. My heart races as I make my way down the aisle towards Nick. I play the doctor"s words on repeat, "We've exhausted all possible solutions."

Kinsley, you can do this. You're marrying Nick to save your mother's life.

Last night, Nick found me on the floor in my lab again and carried me to bed. He had pulled me into his arms. "I apologize," he said. "Please let me in, Kinsley. Accept my love again."

I choke back the tears because I wish it were that easy to love him again. But after everything that has happened. I don't know how that's possible.

Taking my hand, Nick leads me up two steps towards the altar. I try not to focus on him during the ceremony because he's so gorgeous it hurts. Memories of the time we made love flood my mind. Threading my fingers through his hair is tempting. I don't give in to my desires.

My eyes move over his body. The navy suit hugs his six-five muscular body. The color highlights his striking green eyes, which seem to glimmer in the light. Nick looks like a glorified Italian Ken doll. I miss riding his face. I blink a few times. And a cocky smile curls his lips. I hate that he knows me. This man can tell when I'm having naughty thoughts about him.

"I do," Nick answers.

I turn my attention back to the officiant, tuning in to only the most important parts of the ceremony that I had been spacing out on. "I do," I repeat confidently, unable to resist smirking at Nick"s knowing expression.

What else do you do at this moment when you're marrying your ex-lover who you walked away from because you found out he's in the mafia? Then you later learn he's the mafia boss.

He smiles as he slides the ring onto my finger like he's hit the jackpot. When he witnessed my rant, what did he see? Because I know I'm left broken. Therapy helps. Some. I'm not sure I will ever be healed. Or ever not feel the rapists' hands groping my body.

"You may now kiss the bride," the officiant says.

Nick cups my face, leans down, and presses his lips against mine. I don't want to kiss him back. If I do, he might think I like it. I know I will.

His tongue slips into my mouth, and it transports me back to the night when we first made love.

I twirl my tongue around his and my hands squeeze his shoulders as he holds me tight in his embrace.

My body burns with desire, and when we break apart, I can see the love in Nick"s eyes. Despite everything that has happened, this man has never stopped loving me.

You hadn't stopped loving Nick, either.

Needing a minute to collect myself, I let my hands slide down the fabric of my gown and look over at the officiant. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says.

As I turn to the stairs, Nick takes my hand and helps me navigate the steps. "When do we get to eat?" I ask.

"After we take our wedding photos," Nick replies.

"You're taking this marriage thing too far."

"Oh, no, I'm not. You're finally my wife. Mrs. Kinsley Pitucco. You're all mine now." He plants a kiss on my lips. "Be right back."

While Nick speaks to the officiant, I head straight for the tall, thin silver table where my favorite wine is waiting for me. A smile spreads across my face. There are four glasses of wine - clearly Wendall"s doing. I could hug him right now. I quickly down the first glass and let out a deep sigh.

You can do this, Kinsley.

I glance around at the elegant silver decor in the room, admiring the four oversized crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It"s a perfect blend of sophistication and warmth. I feel at ease.

Grabbing another glass, I bring it to my lips and sip. Wendall peeks in the room. I lift my glass in appreciation.

"Thank you." I grin.

He nods and walks over, his hands clasped behind his back. His salt and pepper hair is neatly slicked back. He looks to be around fifty years old and is quite easy on the eyes. Standing at about six feet tall, I wonder if he"s a gangster who moonlights as a butler.

I can sense my husband's hulking presence before his hand gingerly presses against the small of my back.

"No food. We're taking photos now," Nick bites out.

I ignore Nick. "Wendall, please tell me you have hors d'oeuvres?"

"Yes, we do," he replies. "I told you the bagel wouldn't get you through the ceremony."

"I couldn't eat that much earlier. I was too nervous. But now I'm starving."

He offers a smile. "I'll return shortly."

Wendall strolls out of the room.

Nick whisks me off to take wedding photos in various areas of the ballroom.

The photographer positions my hands on Nick's muscled frame to capture the right pose for the camera.

I stare into his eyes as we pose for what feels like photo number sixty. I'm married to Nick Pitucco. The man I was once madly in love with. The man who wasn't forth coming about who he was. Who was engaged to that bitch.

I break away from Nick. "I'm done with the photos."

Gathering my elegant wedding gown in my hands, I briskly walk down the dock to the lake and curl my fist against my stomach. The sun beats down on my back and sweat beads at my temples. I had tried so hard to hold it together. Memories of the fight between Norah and me resurface.

She unknowingly killed my unborn child, consumed by her thirst for power and control. Her plan was to torture me and ultimately end my life, but somehow, I survived.

"Fuck," I yell at the top of my lungs.

"I never wanted this. I never wanted this," I repeat.

Big strong arms surround me. He peppers soft kisses along my face. "I got you. You"re ok. I'll do everything in my power to protect you."

"You couldn't protect me then. And you damn sure can't protect me now."

Determination fills my voice as I declare, "I will see this research through for my mother. She deserves a better quality of life while I"m still here on this earth."

"That's enough," he roars.

Nick stands in front of me, gripping my face. "I need to know what's going on?"

His eyes are wild. He doesn't know what to do. A powerful man like him always knows what to do. I blink a few times and breathe. In and out. My therapist"s voice plays in my head. "You're having a panic attack. Just breathe."

I do so and I notice he's breathing with me.

"Breathe in and out, Kinsley," Nick says.

This is the man I fell in love with. God, I want to kiss his lips and forget his title just for a minute.

"Thank you, Nick. I'll go get cleaned up."

After a few minutes, I find myself in the powder room, removing the mascara streaks from my cheeks. My bun is still perfectly intact on top of my head.

He keeps asking me what's going on? If he knew she cut me and left me for dead, wouldn't he had brought it up? It's time to ask Nick about Norah's death.

I make my way back to the ballroom, excited about the spread of food that awaits me. As I approach, Nick stands up from his seat. "Feeling better?" he asks.

I nod, filling my plate with a little bit of everything - greens, chicken parmesan baked ziti, mac and cheese, and a small portion of lasagna and veal. My mouth waters as I bring a forkful of the ziti to my lips.

There are also appetizers available on a separate plate.

"So Nick, what happened to Norah?" Might as well rip the Band-Aid off.

"She and her bodyguard died in a fatal car crash eleven years ago. She died before we were married."

I simply nod in response as I continue to eat.

He doesn't provide any information of value like: I killed her. So I change the subject. "When do I start my new role?"

"Tomorrow morning. At ten. You'll meet with each wife in the sitting room. You're to let me know how you want the situation handled."

"Ok, I can do that. After the appointments, I'd like to continue my research."

"Of course," he says.

"Thanks for letting me work on my research this morning, too."

"I understand how important your mother is to you," he replies.

"If you'd allow me sometime to freshen up and change out of my wedding gown, I'll be ready to perform my wifely duties."

His jaw ticks. "Kinsley," he warns, but doesn't say more.

I pat my mouth with the napkin, drop it over my plate, and scurry upstairs.

Rummaging through the drawers full of lacy lingerie, I desperately look for something to cover the scar on my stomach. Most of the items are revealing and suggestive, like bras, corsets, and crotchless panties.

My legs squeeze together at the thought of Nick eating my pussy. I settle on a red satin nightie with lace along the cleavage and matching crotchless panties. Changing out of the wedding gown in the walk-in closet isn't an option. What if Nick has cameras in here?

"Kinsley," Nick calls from behind.

I jump and press the nightie to my chest. "Yes?"

"I thought you might need help getting out of the wedding gown," he says with a smirk.

"Please," I respond, relieved that he understands.

His lips press against my back as he unbuttons each button on the gown.

"What are you doing, Nick?" I ask, feeling breathless from his touch.

"Helping," he growls against my skin.

His hand moves around and possessively cups my pussy, sending tingles all over my body.

"Nick, I really need to change," I remind him.

"Yeah," he replies, stepping back.

After my shower, I moisturize my skin, then slip into a comfortable nightie, grateful for the cool fabric against my scarred skin. Taking a deep breath, I exit the master bathroom and see Nick sitting on the edge of the bed in a sliver of light from the walk-in closet. Worry lines crease his face; my melt down at the dock must have left him on edge.

I step between his widened legs.

Instead of touching me, he gives me an order, "Undress me."

His lustful green eyes rake over my face as I unfasten his bow tie and let it fall to the floor from my fingertips.

There's an intense silence between us. Nick appears to want to pick up where we left off years ago. I don't know if I can. His fists curl on his thighs. He's trying to restrain himself from touching me.

As I undo the buttons on his shirt, my eyes widen at the sight of his hairy chest. My mouth waters as I remember how much I enjoy kissing every inch of his body. With a quick movement, I push his suit jacket and crisp white dress shirt down his muscular arms before tossing them aside. Dropping down to my knees, I unfasten his slacks and slide them down, along with his navy boxers, freeing his hard cock. I can"t resist taking a quick glance at it before quickly removing his shoes and socks.

I meet his gaze as I yank his slacks and boxers the rest of the way down his legs.

His muscled body carved of stone is on full display. I wrap my hands around the base of his dick and glide my tongue over the tip.

"Kinsley," he groans.

Nick pulls me up from my kneeling position and presses his lips against my stomach. I suck in a sharp breath; can he feel the scar there?

His hands cup my ass.

I panic. "Would you like me to ride you?"

He stands towering over me.

His huge hands cup my face. Everything is rock hard between us.

"Fuck this," he breathes before crushing my lips. I inhale him. The scent of his addictive cologne helps to pull me further under his spell.

Nick effortlessly lifts me up and carries me to a nearby wall, then sets me on my feet. He kneels in front of me and locks his gaze with mine. "Remember, I know how to make you relax," he reminds me.

I try to catch my breath. "Nick..."

He leans my body against the wall and positions my legs over his shoulders. "Mrs. Pitucco, I want to hear you scream my fucking name."

My fingers tangle in his hair as he slides his tongue between my folds. "Oh god," I moan.

"That's not my name," he chuckles.

With a swift slap on my ass cheek, he commands, "Say my name, wife."

The thrill of being commanded ignites a fire within me. My heart races in my chest. Nick's tongue slips inside my pussy.

Shit, it"s been so long since I"ve been truly satisfied.

As I grind my hips, my pussy bucks his face, I feel myself getting closer to my climax. My head falls back against the wall as Nick"s skilled tongue brings me to the edge. He looks up at me with glistening lips and lustful eyes. "Kinsley," he orders again.

Nick's teeth clamp down on my clit, sending a wave of pleasure through my body.

"Nick," I roar.

"That's a good girl," he praises.

I lose it and give in to my orgasm. Planting my foot on his shoulder, I drop my leg open and drink in his hooded lids as he sucks my clit like he's drunk off my tastes.

"Nick, Nick, Nick," I scream out his name as my body convulses and I squirt all over his face.

The euphoria is unlike anything I"ve ever experienced before; it"s almost indescribable.

He carries me to the bed and gently lays me down on the edge of the mattress. Nick quickly runs into the bathroom and returns with a fluffy towel, drying his face before sitting beside me on the bed.

He pulls me onto his lap and commands, "Ride me, Mrs. Pitucco."

I oblige for two reasons: to feel pleasure again and keep my nightie from riding up.

As he bites my nipple through the thin material, he murmurs, "This needs to come off."

In response, I fiercely kiss him, trying to distract him from the teddy. I slam myself down onto his dick as our mouths open against each other"s as we both experience intense pleasure.

"That"s right, wife," Nick growls, "work that pussy."

The pleasure is intense as I bounce up and down on his cock, and I revel in being able to freely express myself again. I hadn't felt like this since the last time Nick and I had been together.

Our bodies are slick with sweat as I use my husband to reach yet another climax.

He grips my ass tightly and thrusts into me over and over again. I try not to think about the rape, focusing solely on the physical sensations that Nick is giving me. I grab his face and kiss him deeply, pushing any negative thoughts out of my mind.

His hand slides under my nightie so quickly that I don"t have time to react. I guide his fingers to my clit and demand, "Make me come again."

Despite wanting to mention the scar on my body, Nick focuses on pleasing me instead. With long strokes, he brings my next orgasm closer and closer until it finally erupts from within me. Gripping my ass tightly, he slams into me one final time before releasing inside of me. Ropes of his come coat my womb.

I suddenly remember his desire to conceive a baby. Nick gently lays me down on the bed next to him. "I"ll go run a bath for you," he says.

I close my eyes, reminding myself to take a bath by myself. But then, I must have drifted off because I feel a chill on my skin. Nick is staring at the scar on my body.

"How did you get this scar, Kinsley?" he asks, unaware of the relief and fear his wording brings.

"I don"t want to talk about it right now," I reply, getting up from the bed.

He pulls the nightie over my head and discards it on the floor. The crotchless panties are next to go before he scoops me up in his arms and takes me into the bathroom. "We"re husband and wife; we don't keep secrets from each other."

Nick gently lowers me into the warm bubble bath and turns off the water. He sits on the edge of the tub, wearing only a pair of boxers, and studies me with concern in his eyes. I can tell he"s waiting for an explanation.

"Were you in an accident? Did someone hurt you?" His voice is laced with anger. "If someone did this to you, I"ll kill them."

They're already dead. Of course, I didn't tell him that.

I want to talk to someone first to get a better understanding of what happened that night.

"Nick, I promise I"ll tell you everything. Just not tonight. Please?" My voice is pleading.

His hand finds the scar under the water, and I can see the rage building inside him. The mafia boss won"t rest until he finds out who is responsible for my injury.

I grip his chin, pulling his gaze to meet mine. "Worrying about it will only stress you out."

He takes a deep breath and asks, "Is the panic attack and outburst related to the scar?"

I bite back tears. "Yes and no. Listen, it's our wedding night. This isn't the night to discuss it."

"All right," he sighs.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asks.

A smile lifts my lips. "Please."

***P***

Poised in a large black chair in the sitting room, my hand brushes down the front of the classy lavender dress that stops at the knees. I peer at the mousy brown-haired woman who cries every couple of minutes about her husband's infidelity.

My brow lifts. "Why did you marry a man in the mafia?"

Ezra clears his throat.

I meet his gaze.

He shakes his head.

"I'm just saying they sound like men who can't keep their dicks in their pants."

Ezra rubs his brow and sighs.

Ezra, my husband's most trusted bodyguard. Is also now my confidant with this whole Donna position.

"Ok Rose, I'll talk to my husband and give him my suggestion on what to do about your husband." I grin.

"Please don't hurt him. Thank you," she says, rising from the sofa.

Ezra escorts her out of the room, then returns.

"What would you like the guys to do?" he asks.

"Break his legs," I bite out.

"Usually, we break one arm for the first refusal," Ezra adds.

I ignore his words. "When Natalia arrives, send her to my lab."

"Yes, Mrs. Pitucco."

It's so weird to be called by Nick's last name.

Getting Nick out of his own head last night had been difficult.

I persuaded Nick to fuck me again. Sex had been the last thing on his mind. He couldn't stop obsessing over the scar. In the middle of the night, he held me tight and whispered in my ear, "You have until five in the evening to tell me who hurt you before I drop dead bodies in your lab."

The tiny hairs stood all over my body and a chill struck my spine.

I only recall seeing a glimpse of Nick's dark side the night I found out he was in the mafia.

After washing my hands, I stare through the microscope.

There's a knock at the door. Panic strikes my body.

"Yes?"

The sound of stilettos tapping the stairs tells me who it is.

"Good morning, Kinsley." She flashes a cold smile.

"Good morning, Natalia." I smirk at her.

"Ezra said you probably have questions about the Donna position."

"Have a seat." I point to the stool on the other side of the counter.

"Ezra thinks I'm being too harsh. I told him to send men to break both of Rose"s husband's legs."

Her lips tighten. "That is a bit extreme. Don't you think?"

"As you know, I hate the mafia, so know I don't find it extreme."

"Nick's your mafia boss husband now, so you'll have to climb off that high horse." She smiles sweetly.

"I'm in a unique situation. I needed to marry a rich man who'd fund my research to find a cure for my mother's rare disease. How could I have known my ex-lover had been looking for a wife? I thought he was married to Norah."

Silence.

Her facial expression doesn't change. The woman is good.

I continue. "The night I found out Nick was in the mafia, he informed me of his arrangement to marry Norah. When I walked away from him, I never looked back."

I run a hand along my neck. "I didn't seek out that crazy bitch."

Her facial expression softens.

I stand to my feet and round the counter. "Some women can't get past the fact that their man loves another woman," I say, briefly tugging my dress up to expose my scar. It wasn't like she hadn't seen me naked.

"After I met you the other day and heard your voice, that night replayed like it had so many times over eleven years." A tear slips down my cheek. "Don't you dare die on me were the words that fell from your lips."

Tears stream down her face. "I remember that night so vividly," she says.