Blood & Marriage (Dark Mafia Romance) (7 page)

I gave him one of the halves and bit into my own,
immediately feeling the burn on my gums. “I will give you incentive once you’re
finished,” I said without thinking. God, this was so risky, but he was going on
some dangerous venture, and he needed the motivation to return.

There was a glint in his eyes. “Now you’re talking.” He bit
into the tart and continued bite after bite, as if he were racing against the
burn. By the time he was finished, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes were red
and damp.

I finished mine much more slowly, but I pushed the pitcher
of cold lemonade with ice cubes toward him. “There, there. Very well for a
first timer,” I teased, patting his back, just to have another opportunity for
touch.

“Hell, I need some bread,” he whispered in a raspy voice,
while sucking on an ice cube, and a single tear rolled down his cheek from the
redder eye.

I tried not to laugh but handed him a chunk of vanilla
sponge with buttercream. “It gets better with time.”

Santo chewed on it quickly, and I cringed, hearing the sound
of crushed ice in his mouth. He wiped his eyes with a napkin. “My incentive
better be good.”

I exhaled and made sure there was no one but the decorators
to see us. “I hope no one will be searching for you,” I said, slowly making my
way toward the huge kitchen that was used mostly during big gatherings, because
a smaller one was in use on a daily basis.

My heart thudded, but I led the way, hoping the dress would
trail up my body slightly and give Santo more of a glimpse of my upper thighs.
I’d never felt naughtier than when he followed me this way, as if he were a
greedy kid, and I was the candy he couldn’t wait to unwrap. I would never
forget the way his tongue trailed all over my body and even into my pussy. He’d
been so overcome with lust that remembering his flushed face between my legs
was making me clench my buttocks.

“There’s a pantry upstairs,” he whispered behind me, despite
us being alone.

“Is there?” I asked softly and slid into the narrow
staircase to my right. “You need to show me.”

Heat was already wreaking havoc in my body, tossing
somewhere in my stomach and trickling down between my thighs.

“No. After you.” He pointed to the door upstairs and it
didn’t take a mastermind to know that what he wanted was a glimpse up my skirt.
It wasn’t like it would hurt anyone if he got it.

I opened the door and dove into the darkness that smelled of
spices, herbs, and dried meat. It was stuffy in there, but I couldn’t even
remember to breathe when his hands rested on my waist and pulled me close. I
opened my mouth and leaned forward, bumping my nose against his cold lips.

He had to bow down a lot with the ceiling in the pantry so
low, but he didn’t seem to mind, his kiss heating up by the second. I didn’t
even realize I’ve opened my mouth to his cool tongue until I’ve done it.

The urgency with which he wanted me hit me with its full
force when his hands slid to my ass and squeezed hard. And despite all my logic
yelling to swat those hands away, all I truly wanted was for him to roll my
dress up and slide his fingers between my thighs.

I moaned into the kiss, holding on tightly to his shoulders,
overcome with an emotion I couldn’t name.

I didn’t want him to leave today.

I didn’t want him to only be a fleeting presence in my life.

I didn’t want to marry Seth Villani.

He pushed me back toward some sort of cupboard, which
rattled in protest when we put our weight against it. His lips, so cold in the
beginning, were warming up fast, and I slid my arms around his neck, wanting him
even closer. This kind of passion was something I’d always wanted to avoid at
all cost, but here I was, surrendering to it with the man I couldn’t have. To
the kisses that tasted of spicy chillies, sweet vanilla, and smoke all rolled
into one irresistible concoction.

Santo groaned into my lips, his fingers trailing over the
dress, in the dip between my buttocks. “How do I get this off you? It’s so
tight it’s driving me mad,” he whispered into my ear and bit it. When he pushed
against me with more urgency, I felt his hard erection against my stomach.

Santo wouldn’t settle for kisses. He wanted everything. He
wanted to be inside me in the way I was only supposed to allow my husband. But
there was no denying that my panties were soaking wet for him, and I already
worried if it would be somehow visible on my dress.

“Lu?” Mona yelled from downstairs, pulling me out of the
lust-filled haze so brutally I wasn’t even sure what I was doing.

I pushed away so abruptly I hit the back of my head against
the shelf behind me.
Oh, God.
If Mona was so close by, someone must had
seen us walk away and told her where to look for me. “Hi! I’ll be with you in a
second,” I yelled back, frantically pulling down my dress.

Santo was so close his warm breath kept brushing against my
neck and ear, and I was torn between being angry that Mona had broken up my
reckless moment with Santo, and being grateful to her. That man was walking,
talking temptation.

“No…” Santo’s whisper was barely audible, and for a moment,
he pulled my hand back, but then I slipped away, and losing the connection of
our fingers felt like ripping away a band-aid that had been on my skin for
years.

I grabbed the first jar that I could get a hold of in the
pantry, and walked out, taking deep breaths to cool off.

“Hey!” I yelled from afar, trying to hide my exasperation
behind a wall of faked excitement. “You’re finally here! I got busy going
through the pantry, and found this jam. Wanna try it?” I grinned like the
Cheshire Cat.

Mona frowned and looked at my hand. “Those are pickled
onions.”

I put the jar down. “Ah, yes, that’s what I meant. Those are
great in sandwiches,” I said, pulling Mona close for a hug. My body was still
hot and heavy from the brief encounter in the pantry, but I couldn’t let her
know anything was up. “You’re just on time to help me out with the cake
samples. I’m still not sure what I want.”

She raised her eyebrows and gave the jar a dubious glance,
but hooked her arm with mine as we walked out of the kitchen. Only then did I
have a moment to take in what she was wearing. Her usual shorts and T-shirt had
been swapped out for a long black dress that exposed her cleavage, and she was
wearing platform boots as well. I knew she wanted to feel attractive during
this trip, but I couldn’t help feeling that my baby sister was growing up all
too quickly.

“How many can we choose?” Mona smiled and looked over the
table.

“No one gave me a limit, but I’m already set on ordering
chili tarts. I guess the wedding cake is the most important choice, because we
will only have one,” I said, picking up the first piece of cake with cream and
pushing it at her mouth.

Oh, God, what would have happened if Mona hadn’t stopped us
on time? Someone would’ve surely found out, and there would have been hell to
pay. For me, surely, for my father most likely, but what would Santo’s penalty have
been? It hadn’t escaped my attention that my fiancé was missing one pinky. He
was probably much less innocent than he led me to believe.

Mona frowned, but her mouth was stuffed with cake, so she
couldn’t say a word. I turned around to see what she was looking at, only to
freeze at the sight of Santo emerging from the kitchen. Sure, he didn’t seem
suspicious, and even gave us a short nod as he passed, but Mona knew that
kitchen had been empty, and there was only one door. Could I spin it around
somehow?

She couldn’t swallow fast enough. “You did not!” she uttered
with her eyes wide.

I did my best not to watch Santo, but he was going to do
something risky, and I wanted to remember him well. For good luck.

“Did I what?” I asked, trying to play dumb, but Mona wasn’t
as easily fooled as Federico Villani.

When Santo had disappeared, Mona narrowed her eyes, stepping
closer. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not even at home anymore. Did
it hurt?” she added in a whisper.

I pushed cake into my mouth to cover the rush of
embarrassment in my body. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems totally
like that
.”
The frown wouldn’t leave her face. “I mean…he’s hot and all, but you’re playing
with fire.”

“It was just a kiss,” I whispered, stepping closer. “Don’t
worry about me. I have it under control,” I added, to not give her any ideas.

Mona took a deep breath and chose a cake to try. “I mean…I’m
all for adventure, but you know Father… And if Seth found out? This could all
be a disaster.”

“It won’t happen again. He’s leaving today,” I said
begrudgingly, but I knew she was right. No matter how much I wanted Santo, he
was not my future husband, and one of us needed to be the adult. If Santo couldn’t
keep his hands away from me, I needed to do it for him.

“Strawberry or vanilla?” I asked, itching for a change of
topic.

Mona sighed. “Better tell me all about Seth. Is he
handsome?”

I looked nothing like I’d imagined I would.

My mother’s wedding dress hung off the curtain rod, its
satin fabric shiny against the elegant silk taffeta of the curtain. I could
hardly bear seeing myself in it, not only because of its outdated fashion, but
also because my mother wouldn’t be there to see me wear it.

If she were there, maybe we could’ve compromised and reworked
the original gown somehow, to suit me, but seeing myself in a conservative updo
that matched its style made it all even worse. At least the makeup was neutral,
enhancing my features rather than making me look like someone else, but the
more hairspray the stylist left all over me, the less I felt like Lucrezia
Bruni.

And maybe that was the point, because I wouldn’t bear that
name any longer.

Mona sat by me, sipping her single glass of champagne and
trying to distract me with conversation, but her presence did not obscure the
fact that I felt like a dressed-up doll. Out of all my close friends, she was
the only one attending my wedding, yet another mark of the permanent change to
my life.

The hairdresser eventually left, and with the general
understanding being that the bride needed some time to herself, I could expect
two hours of relative peace in Mona’s company.

“I mean…” Mona glanced at the dress. “I know it’s not what you
wanted, but on you it looks really classy.”

I didn’t think so. She just wanted to make me feel better. I
hated how carefully Mona handled the dress. I wished it had torn, and I
wouldn’t have to wear it, and the whole wedding would be called off.

And Santo still hadn’t let me know if he was alive and well.
Why would his father even send him out somewhere dangerous? It defied all
logic. I got up and opened the shirt to don the dress that would haunt me for
the rest of my life.

“Let’s just get on with it.”

Mona whisted and giggled at the sight of my wedding
lingerie, and I hadn’t even thought about it before she did. At least
that
I chose myself. Even if I didn’t know if it was something Seth would’ve
appreciated or not, I would feel confident and beautiful on our wedding night.

The whole set was an off-white extravaganza of lace, pearls,
and sheer fabric. A long line bra, a pair of tiny panties that exposed my
buttocks, a garter belt and stockings with a lace pattern at the top that
completed the style. I even bought a tulle robe to go with it for the evening.

“You look so…adult,” Mona choked out as she got the dress
down for me.

“I am getting married today after all.” I winced at my own
words.

“I know, I know. I think mom was nineteen when she married,
wasn’t she?” Mona petted the dress with a thoughtful expression.

“Still a year later than me,” I said and carefully stepped
into the dress before helping Mona to pull it over my hips.

“But maybe it’s a good thing that you will be wearing her
dress? Honoring her memory…” Mona tried, she really did, but all I could think
of was that this dress would lead me to the same catastrophic ending that it had
led my mother to.

“Maybe,” I said, not wanting to spoil the mood too much. But
I couldn’t pretend, even in front of Mona. “I can’t get over the feeling that
it’s bad luck to wear it.”

She closed the zipper, which perfectly molded to my back and
tightened the satin fabric around my chest. “I know what you mean. But you
can’t prevent accidents. Their marriage was a very happy one before she died.”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I almost broke into the
flesh. Mona had no idea what she was talking about. When Mom died, Mona had
been too young to understand what had happened, and I didn’t want to
disillusion her.

“You are stunning.” Mona smiled, and we both stared into the
floor-length mirror next to the huge mahogany desk where I’d been having
breakfast and doing my makeup for the past week.

But in the reflection, I couldn’t see myself. I tried to
fight it, but my eyes still welled up. I had no idea what my marriage to Seth
Villani would be like. Was I supposed to just be a baby incubator for the
Villani Family?

Now it hit me.

“What if he has a girlfriend in the States?” I whispered
breathlessly, and a million visions popped into my head. Maybe that was the
missing piece I couldn’t pinpoint. Santo had told me Seth would be sent back to
the USA after the wedding, but no one else had informed me that it would be the
case, so had Santo lied to me, or was he actually the only one to tell me the
truth?

Mona laughed nervously and stroked my shoulder. “No, of
course not. Now you’re panicking.”

“How do you know?” I asked, but my eyes were already welling
up. So damn typical: the man could do whatever he wanted as long as he provided
for me, but I was to be the perfect little wife for someone who hadn’t even
bothered to meet up with me throughout my stay.

Tradition or not, if Seth had wanted to, he could have found
a way to see me. He could have snuck into my room, or walked with me in the
garden. We could have made a trip to the beach nearby and stolen some time
together. There were a hundred different options.

But he had chosen not to see me.

Instead, I’d seen him drinking in the middle of the day
numerous times, and walking around with a sour face.

“What if he’s an alcoholic?” I whispered, and a few tears
streaked down my face.

Mona hugged me tightly. “Don’t panic. I’ll always be there
for you, okay?”

“But I saw him drinking a lot. Either he’s dependant or he
hates the idea of marrying me,” I said, taking deep breaths to stop crying. If
I ruined my makeup, it would make the day infinitely worse. “What am I gonna do
all alone here?”

“Lu, he can’t hate you. Just look at yourself. He will fall
in love with you in no time.” Mona pointed to the mirror, but all I could see
was my mother’s broken dreams and I wanted to cry even more.

A knock on the door coincided with my sob.

Mona exhaled and let me go, to see who it was. I picked up a
clean tissue and leaned toward the mirror, quickly patting away the wetness
below my eyes.

Behind me, Mona peeked through a crack between the open door
and the wall before turning her head to me. “Lu?”

“Who is it?” I asked, straightening up in hope that the
guest wouldn’t notice I have been crying.

Mona hesitantly opened the door wider, and I was so
overwhelmed at the sight of Santo that I couldn’t breathe.

There he was, the image of perfection in a black tuxedo. So
elegant and handsome that for a split second I fooled myself that he would be
the man I marry today. His hair wasn’t slicked back but had a parting, which
made him look like a sophisticated gentleman, no matter what dirty jobs he’d
been doing in the past few days.

I gazed between him and Mona, but found myself walking
toward the door despite my head becoming lighter by the second. “You’re all
right.”

Santo stepped in, and now that I could finally see all of
him, I could also see that he was holding a large gown cover. “I promised.”

My heart galloped, and I wanted so much to touch him, but with
Mona there, it felt like such a wrong thing to do.

But she must have gotten the hint and quickly stepped toward
the door, swiping me with that annoying all-knowing gaze. “I bet you two have
something to talk about. I’ll be outside if you need me, Lu.”

A slight frown crossed Santo’s face, but he didn’t say
anything, and instead locked the door. “I couldn’t be here sooner,” he said,
but the truth was he must have spent at least half an hour on grooming himself.
It flattered me that he wanted to look his best for me, even if he was doomed
not to have me.

My mother’s dress was slightly too tight on me, and it felt
constricting now that I was breathing so deeply at the sight of him. I put my
hand on his forearm and squeezed it. “That’s all right. I’m happy you’re here.”

Santo’s jaw was firmly clenched, which only emphasized his
stern expression. “I brought the dress for you.” He placed it over the grey
chaise longue, but his movements were stiff and he lacked his usual cocky
attitude. “I got you something else back in Calabria as well.” He pulled a tiny
black box out of his pocket and placed it into my hand.

I licked my lips, uncaring that I could have smudged my
lipstick, and opened the box with my pulse thudding in my ears. On the bed of
white satin was a small silver charm in an elongated shape, which I took only a
split second to recognize. It was a chili pepper.

I took a deep breath. “That tart must have been very
memorable,” I said, trying not to turn on the waterworks yet again, but the
strain of it was quite obvious in my voice.

"It's for your bracelet." He took a deep breath.
"Small and unassuming, but powerful enough to even defeat my father."

I chuckled and gave him the box. It was so nice he’d noticed
that I’d personalized my bracelet. “Maybe you should attach it then.”

He nodded but didn’t smile, his face like the mask he held
in front of other people, and yet I knew there was a side of him that laughed
and was playful. When he reached to attach the chili to my bracelet, the
tension between us was like an electric current, and I knew he felt it too. He
had
to. I couldn’t have imagined what was between us.

His touch alone, even if not intentionally sexual, made my
skin all tingly. Those green eyes were so focused now, as if he was about to
complete the most important task of his entire life.

With the little chili finally attached to my bracelet, I
shook my hand gently. At least I’d have a little something from him as I walk
down the aisle. “How do you like my dress?” I asked, glancing at the clear
cover my dream ensemble had been tucked into.

Santo kept infuriatingly distant, always those few inches
away, when really, I wanted him to, at least, hold my hand. The smell of his
cologne enveloped my senses, yet no touch was forthcoming.

“I will need to see it on you to decide.”

That was my cue to either ask him to leave or stay, and I
turned away, glancing at him over my shoulder. “You have to help me get out of
this one first,” I said softly, but the butterflies in my stomach were already
spiraling in the most intense mating dance.

Santo took a deep breath, but stepped closer, slowly pulling
down the zipper at the back of my dress, and in the mirror, I saw his gaze go
along with it. “Is tempting me into no good the sole purpose of your existence,
Lucrezia?”

“Me tempting you? You’ve got to be joking. It’s the other
way around,” I said, shuddering slightly when the zipper slid all the way down
where the split ended on my buttocks. The satin and lace now felt all too
stifling for my body, which was heating up so fast I could have evaporated into
Santo’s arms at any moment.

“Is it now?” Santo’s quickened breaths tickled my shoulder
when he pulled the sleeves of my dress down, revealing even more of my naked
skin, but all I could focus on was the way his thumbs skirted over my arms when
he did so. “Is it the allure of the forbidden affair that draws you to me?”

“I never wanted a forbidden affair. It’s easy to tell myself
that when you’re not here,” I said, shivering when my mother’s dress pooled at
our feet, leaving me naked except for the sheer set of underwear. I felt as if
he’d helped me shed old, unwanted skin.

Santo sighed, and broke the barrier between us, putting his
hands on my waist, right above my hips. “I wish we’d met under different
circumstances.”

I leaned back into his warmth, and I could sense it so
clearly even through his shirt and tuxedo. He was the man who
really
wanted me, not the groom, who hadn’t even bothered to ask me for my phone
number. “Me too,” I said and slowly turned in his arms.

“You do know there’s nothing more we can do about it, right?
It wouldn’t be safe.” And yet he still kissed my temple, making goose bumps
sprout all over my skin. His presence gave me the kind of safety I wouldn’t
have once I left this room.

Closing my eyes, I could imagine myself staying in his arms
forever. I could not have that, but I could have this moment at least. “You
told me you could give me something
real
before I marry,” I whispered,
glancing into his eyes, already intoxicated by his scent, so clean and masculine
at the same time.

His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and I saw the red
scar peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. “That offer still stands.
I’m a man of my word.” His grip tightened on my waist.

I knew I shouldn’t have been doing this, but I wanted him,
and he wanted me with an intensity so overwhelming I wanted to yield. I wanted
to let the waves of lust take me before I strolled down the aisle to a man I
had no feelings for. “Please.”

Santo’s hands slid down from where they’d been. To my hips,
and then lower, not even over my panties, but straight into them, until he
squeezed my ass in a way that told me everything about his raw hunger for me.

“There’s no taking it back,” he whispered, leaning down to
kiss me. “And no way forward, either. Just this one moment.”

The sensitive skin of my lips brushed against his, and I
sucked in a gulp of tobacco-scented air, rising onto my toes until I could
comfortably embrace his neck. “I’ll take what I can.”

Santo licked my top lip with the tip of his tongue, as if
coaxing me to open up to him, but he didn’t need to even try. When we finally
kissed, it somehow felt like that first time, when I’d blissfully thought
he
was my future husband. His body pressed against me, the hands on my ass pulling
me even closer, and I couldn’t have cared less about the buttons of his tuxedo
digging into my skin.

I whimpered into his lips when he slipped a finger between
my buttocks, teasing me mercilessly and in a way I’d never let any other man. I
often used to find men crude in their words, their requests, and even in the
fantasies I imagined them having about me. But it was me who was the crude one
now, because all I could think of was his cock sliding into me, his fingers
playing with my pussy in whatever way he wanted, and I could even see myself
exploring his whole body with kisses.