"Are you wet enough?" He questions with hooded eyes.
I nod curtly. "Only the sound of your voice and my pussy jumps in excitement."
"Good. Turn around." He orders as both hands grip my waist, flipping me around before I can argue. "Sit on it and go...
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When my mother would dress me up as a princess and tell me that all I had to do was want something and it'd automatically be mine, I didn't believe it to be true until today.
This very day that has me nauseous; this day that I somehow loathe with everything in my gut happens to be my wish come true.
It has always been my desire, a grand wedding of this manner, this wedding dress and a man whom I love and who adores me. But I got the wedding, I got the location, I got the dress but the man who's going to be waiting for me at the top of that altar is going to be my worst nightmare.
And my mother? She's not even here to witness this. A part of me feels grateful that she doesn't get to see her daughter handed over to a maniac, but a part of me wishes that she's here to hug me and tell me that everything will be fine.
Standing hand in hand with my father outside the grand door of the St. Peter's Basilica Rome, hearing the priest and the congregation sing the last line of the hymn, my heart begins pounding hard against my chest and I stumble.
"Please father, this is the last chance to change your mind." Even knowing that my father cares nothing for me, I still push my luck with him. The idea of living with a man such as Matteo Messina Denaro has me shuddering and throwing up in my mouth.
He's a sick bastard.
A sick bastard who's about to become my husband.
My brain suddenly abandons me and drifts into a fog and I don't realize how erratic my breath has become or that I'm frozen in place while the whole congregation has their head turned to the entrance of the chapel as they watch and wait for me to walk down the aisle until my father nudges me with his shoulder.
When the hell did the doors open?
"Behave yourself Mirabella. Do not raise any suspicions," My father orders me in a whisper as he walks me down the grand hall of the chapel.
If I'm not so terrified of Matteo, I'd think my heart skipped a beat when he set his eyes upon me. The sight of him is a lot to take in, ranging from his perfectly styled dark hair, to his intimidating hazel eyes, his chiseled jaw, broad shoulders; he has it all physically speaking.
But the way he's looking at me, the way his lips very often curve up and his eyebrows twitch, the way he scoffs and gives his head a slight nod; everything he does somehow tells me how much this man is going to make my life with him unbearable.
"You are beautiful wife. I could go down on my knees and worship the ground you walk upon if this wasn't such a lie." Matteo mutters in a hushed tone as he takes my hand and places a kiss on my knuckles. Once again my heart skips a beat.
Probably because I'm terrified of him.
The Archpriest starts off with initiating the wedding proceedings, Bible passages recited, advice given, communion taken and finally the time to exchange vows and rings arrives.
