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A wave of sickness wrenched me from sleep. I stumbled toward the bathroom and threw up again, kneeling on the cold marble floor, too exhausted to get up. I shuddered. Harry reached over me and flushed the toilet before stroking my hair back from my forehead. "Not that hot anymore, am I?" I laughed hoarsely.
"That shouldn't have happened. I should have kept you safe."
"You did." I gripped the toilet seat and staggered to my feet. Harry's hands grasped my waist.
"Maybe a bath will help."
"I think I'll drown if I lie in the bathtub now."
Harry turned the water on in the tub while still holding me with one hand. The sky was turning gray over New York. "We can take a bath together."
I tried a teasing smile. "You just want to grab a feel."
"I won't touch you while you are on roofies."
"A Capo with morals?"
Harry's face was serious. "I'm not Capo yet. And I have morals. Not many but a couple."
"I'm only teasing," I whispered as I leaned my forehead against his naked chest. He rubbed my back and the motion sent a sweet tingling down into my core. I drew back and carefully walked over to the washbasin to brush my teeth and wash my face.
Harry shut the water off when the tub was almost full. Then he helped me out of my panties and got out of his boxer-shorts before he lifted me into the tub. I ducked my face under the water for a moment, hoping it would clear the remaining fog from my head. Harry slid in behind me and pulled me back against his chest. His erection pressed against my thigh. I turned so I was facing Harry and his length slid between my legs and brushed my entrance. I stiffened. Harry would only have to push his hips upward to enter me. He groaned, gritted his teeth, then he reached between us and pushed his erection back so it rested against my thigh again and pulled me flat on his torso.
"Some men would have taken advantage of the situation," I murmured.
Harry's jaw clenched. "I'm that kind of man, Aria. Don't kid yourself into believing I'm a good man. I'm neither noble nor a gentleman. I'm a cruel bastard."
"Not to me." I pressed my nose against the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar, musky scent.
Harry kissed the top of my head. "It's better if you hate me. There's less chance of you getting hurt that way."
What had I told him last night when I was out of it? Had I told him I'd fallen in love with him? I couldn't remember. "But I don't hate you."
Harry kissed my head again. I wished he'd say something. I wished he'd say that he—
"You mentioned something Grace said to you." His voice was casual but tension gripped his body. "Something about fucking you bloody."
"Oh, yeah. She said you'd hurt me, fuck me like an animal, fuck me bloody when she talked to me during our wedding reception. Scared me out of my mind." Then I frowned. "I think that guy last night almost said the same thing."
"Before I killed him he said one of the women who bought dope from him told him you were a skank who needed to be told a lesson. She gave him cash."
I lifted my head. "Do you think it was Grace?"
Harry's eyes were like a stormy sky. "I'm sure it was her. The description fits and who else would have an interest in attacking you."
"What are you going to do?"
"I can't kill her, even if I want to cut her fucking throat, but that would cause too much trouble with her father and brother. I'll have to talk to them, though. Tell them they need to put her on a fucking leash or there won't be any more money from us."
"What if they refuse?"
"They won't. Grace has been fucking things up for a long time. They'll probably ship her off to Europe or Asia for rehab or some shit like that."
I kissed him but the tension didn't leave Harry's body. "I can't stop thinking about what would have happened if Romero and Cesare hadn't been there, if that fucker had gotten you out of the club. The thought of his dirty hands on you makes me want to kill him again. The thought that he might have..." He shook his head.
I knew it wasn't because Harry had emotions for me. He was possessive. He couldn't bear the thought that someone might have gotten his hands on me, that someone might have taken what Harry considered his. Resignation filled me. "When Gianna leaves in a few days, you can have me," I whispered against his throat. Harry's hands stilled on my back. He didn't ask me if I was sure. I hadn't expected him to. Harry had said it himself; he wasn't a good man.
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Gianna and I had spent the last few days trying different cafés and restaurants, talking and laughing and shopping, but today Gianna had to go back to Chicago. My arms around her were tight as we stood in the departure hall of JFK. Gianna needed to go through security soon but I didn't want to let her go. Not only because I'd miss her terribly but also because I was anxious about my promise to Harry.
I braced myself and took a step back from Gianna. "Visit again soon, okay?"
She nodded, her lips pressed together. "You call me every day, don't forget."
"I won't." I promised. She backed away slowly, then turned and headed for the line at security. I waited until she walked through and disappeared from view.
Harry stood a few steps behind me. I rushed over to him and pressed my face against him. He stroked my back. "I thought we could grab dinner and then have a relaxing evening." He sounded hungry and excited, but not for food.
"Sounds good." I said with a small smile. Something shifted in Harry's face but then it was gone.
▪︎▪︎▪︎
I hadn't eaten much; my stomach was already churning. I didn't want to take any risks. Harry pretended not to notice. He ate what I didn't. When we stepped back into our penthouse, I headed for the liquor cabinet, looking for some liquid courage, but Harry gripped my wrist and pulled me against him. "Don't."
He lifted me into his arms and carried me upstairs into our bedroom. When he set me down on the edge of the bed, my eyes found his crotch. He was already hard. Nerves twisted my insides. He wanted me. I wouldn't deny him, not tonight.
Harry climbed on the bed and I lay back, my palms flat against the blanket. His lips found mine, his tongue dipping in and I relaxed under his skillful mouth. This was good, familiar, comforting. My leg muscles loosened. Harry ripped his mouth away from me and sucked my nipple into his mouth through the fabric of my dress. I cupped his head, letting his experienced ministrations carry away my fear. There was an urgency to his kisses and touches that I'd never felt before.
He tugged at my dress and slid it down my body, leaving me in only my panties. He took a moment to admire my body before he moved down and buried his face between my legs, his tongue sliding between my folds over my panties. With a growl, he gripped them and ripped them off, then tossed them away. His mouth was hot and demanding, but too quickly he stopped and thrust a finger into me. Then he stood abruptly and slipped out of his shirt before he removed his holder and pants. His body was taut with tension and his erection harder than I'd ever seen it. The raw hunger on his face sent a spike of fear through me. "You're mine."
And then Harry loomed over me, his knees parting my legs and his tip nudged against my entrance. My muscles seized up and I dug my nails into his shoulders and squeezed my eyes shut. This was too fast. He seemed barely in control. I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, trying to let his smell calm me.
Harry didn't move, his erection still only lightly touching my entrance.
"Aria." He said in low voice. "Look at me." I did. His gaze was hunger mixed with something gentler. I tried to focus on the gentle. For a long time we gazed at each other. He closed his eyes and lowered himself so his body was flush with mine. "I'm an asshole." He rasped. He kissed my cheek and my temple.
Confusion filled me. "Why?" God, was that small voice mine? Harry was my husband and I sounded as if I was terrified.
I was terrified, but I should have hidden it better.
"You are scared and I lose control like that. I should know better. I should prepare you properly and instead I almost shove my cock into you."
I didn't know what to say. I shifted and Harry's erection rubbed over my entrance, making me gasp. Harry released a harsh breath, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the hunger was contained. He slid down until his head hovered over my breasts and his abs pressed against my folds. I exhaled at the friction and Harry's muscles flexed. I could tell he was still on edge.
"You are my wife." He said fiercely as if to remind himself. Then his fingers closed around my nipples and he tugged at them. I moaned, bucking my pelvis, making my core rub against Harry's abs again.
"Stop squirming." Harry ordered, almost pleadingly. He tugged again, this time I forced myself to stay still but a moan escaped my lips. Harry's expression was concentration and restrain as he tugged and twisted, twirled and rubbed. I arched my back, practically pushing my breasts into his face and he gladly took me up on my invitation and sucked my nipple into his mouth. I closed my eyes as he suckled one breasts while his fingers pinched my other. He shifted and ghosted his fingers over my ribs, my hips, my sides before his tongue followed the same trail. He bit the skin over my hipbones, then soothed the spot with his tongue. My entire body was on fire, desperate for release.
His fingers began massaging my thighs, parting me further as he moved lower. He kissed my mound, then my inner thigh before biting gently. I gasped and rocked my hips. He slid his hand under my butt and lifted me a few inches, then he kissed my folds. I whimpered at the soft touch. He kissed me again, his lips moving against my folds, then he pulled back. My eyes peeled open. He watched me, then he kissed my opening and I could feel wetness pool out of me. Harry thumbs spread my lips for him and he licked his tongue over my wetness.
I shuddered and felt another trickle. Harry gently lapped at me, not once touching my clit. He sucked my folds, licked them, circled his tongue around my entrance but never touched me where I needed his touch.
"Harry, please." I bucked my hips again.
Harry nudged my clit with his tongue and I cried out. "You want this?"
"Yes."
"Soon." He growled and eased a finger into me, fucking me with it slowly as his tongue slid around my opening, coating me with his saliva. His tongue moved up, finally circling my clit. I relaxed with a moan. Harry took my clit into his mouth and suckled, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
"Tell me when you come." Harry said against my wet flesh.
He fingered me faster and pressed his tongue against my clit.
"I'm com—"
Harry pulled his finger out, then entered me again with two fingers. I gasped in discomfort but my orgasm ripped through me, pain mingling with pleasure as my body tried to get used to the fullness. Harry kissed my inner thigh, then groaned. "You're so fucking tight, Aria. Your muscles are squeezing the life out of my fingers."
My pulse was slowing and I glanced at Harry. He was watching me, two fingers buried in me. He slid them out a couple of inches and I winced but he slowly found a rhythm as he slid in and out.
"Relax," Harry murmured, and I tried. "I need to widen you, principessa." Harry traced his tongue over my folds and clit again. I hummed in pleasure. The discomfort in my core lessened with every stroke from Harry's tongue and I could feel myself approaching another release. Harry must have felt it too. He pulled his fingers out and moved up until he was propped up over me. He lined himself up and shifted my legs and hips until he found the angle he wanted, then his tip brushed my entrance. And just like that I froze up again. I wanted to cry in frustration. Why couldn't my body work with me?
Harry kissed my chin, then my lips. "Aria." My eyes finally met his. His expression reflected some kind of inner struggle. I wrapped my arms around him, my palms coming to rest on his flexing back. Resolve claimed his expression.
He shifted his hips and the pressure increased. I tensed even further and Harry let out a harsh breath. "Relax," he said as he cupped my cheek and kissed my lips. "I'm not even in yet." His hand caressed my side down to my thigh. He cupped it and opened me a bit wider. Then he pushed in slowly. I tightened my hold on him, pressing my lips together. It hurt. God, it hurt like hell. He would never fit. I whimpered when the tearing sensation got too much and tensed even further. Harry halted in his movement, jaw clenched. He brought one of his hands up and cupped my breast, rubbing and twisting my nipple.
"You are so beautiful." He murmured into my ear. "So perfect, principessa." His words and his teasing of my breast made me relax slightly and he pushed in a bit further. I tensed again. Harry kissed my mouth. "Almost there." He slid his hand down my body, fingers ghosting over my belly until he brushed my folds. He rubbed my clit slowly and I exhaled. Through the pain and discomfort I could feel small bolts of pleasure. Harry took his time teasing my clit and kissing me. His lips were hot and gentle, and his finger sent tingling sensations through my body. Slowly, my muscles loosened around his cock.
Rocking his hips forward, he pushed all the way in and I gasped, my back arching off the bed. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing through my nose to get through the pain. I felt too full as if I was going to rip apart. I buried my face against Harry's throat, and started to count, trying to distract myself. 'It gets better', that's what the women said at my bridal shower, but when?
Harry moved, slowly and just an inch, but it hurt too much. "Please don't move." I gasped, then I pressed my lips together in shame. Other women had gone through this and they had lied back and suffered through it. Why couldn't I? Harry's body became taut like a bowstring. He touched my cheek as he pulled back, forcing me to look at him.
"Does it hurt that much?" His voice was pure restrain, eyes dark with an emotion I couldn't place.
Get a grip, Aria. "No, not that much." My voice caught on the last word because Harry had twitched. "It's okay, Harry. Just move. I won't be mad at you. You don't have to hold back for me. Just get it over with."
"Do you think I want to use you like that? I can see how fucking painful this is. I've done many horrible things in my life but I won't add that to my list."
"Why? You hurt people all the time. Only because we're married you don't have to pretend to care for my feelings."
His eyes flashed. "What makes you think I have to pretend?"
My lips parted. I didn't dare to hope, didn't dare to read too much into his words, but God, did I want to.
"Tell me what to do." He said harshly.
"Can you hold me close for a while? But don't move."
"I won't." He promised, then kissed my lips. He gritted his teeth as he lowered himself completely. We were incredibly close, not even a sheet of paper would have fit between us. Harry curled one arm under my shoulders and pressed me against his chest, and then we kissed, our lips gliding over each other, our tongues tangling, soft and teasing. Harry caressed my side and my ribs before sneaking a hand between us and drawing small circles on my nipple. Slowly my body became slack under his soft caress and the taste of his mouth on mine. The pain between my legs became a dull ache and my core loosened around Harry, my body growing accustomed to his size. Harry didn't seem to notice or he chose to ignore it, instead he kept kissing me. His fingernail scraped my nipple and a flicker of pleasure spiked between my legs. I drew back, my lips raw and hot from our kiss. Harry's eyes were hooded.
"Can you still...?" I asked.
He shifted and I could feel how hard he was. He hadn't softened at all. My eyes widened in surprise.
"I told you I'm not a good man. Even though I know you're hurting, I still have a boner because I'm inside you."
"Because you want me."
"I've never wanted anything more in my life," Harry admitted.
"Can we go slow?"
"Of course, principessa." Still holding me close, he withdrew a few inches watching my face. The look of concern on his face released a knot in my chest.
I exhaled. It still hurt but not nearly as much as before and behind the pain was the hint of something better. Harry eased back into me and found a slow and gentle rhythm. I soaked in the feel of Harry's strong body pressed against me, the sharp lines of his face. His eyes never left my face. He didn't seem to mind the slow pace. The tension in his shoulders and neck was the only sign of how difficult this was for him. He changed the angle and a spark of pleasure shot through me. I gasped. Harry halted. "Did that hurt?"
"No, it felt good." I said with a shaky smile. Harry smiled and repeated the motion, sending another tingle through me. He lowered his lips to mine. I wasn't sure how long he kept up the slow rhythm, but I was getting sore and I knew I wouldn't come. I wasn't even close, despite the occasional flickers of pleasure. Dull pain still covered too much of it. I didn't know how to say what I needed to say. He must have seen something on my face because he said. "Are you okay?"
I bit my lip. "How long until you...?"
"Not long, if I go a bit faster." He scanned my face and I nodded. He propped himself up on his elbows and thrust faster and a bit harder, and I pressed my lips together and buried my face against his shoulder, clutching his back. The pain was back, but I wanted Harry to come. "Aria?" Harry rasped.
"Keep going. Please. I want you to come."
He growled and kept thrusting. His pants came faster. He thrust deeper than before and I bit down on his shoulder to keep from whimpering in pain. Harry tensed with a groan, then he shuddered and I could feel him expand even further in me, filling me up until I was sure I'd come apart. He stopped moving, his lips against my throat. I could feel him softening in me and I almost breathed a sigh in relief. I held onto Harry, relishing in the feel of his quick heartbeat and the sound of his harsh breathing.
Harry pulled out and lay down beside me, pulling me into his arms. He brushed back my hair from my sweaty face. I felt something trickling out of me and shifted uncomfortably.
"I'll get a washcloth." Harry got out of bed to head for the bathroom. I felt cold without him. I stretched my legs but winced. I sat up and my eyes widened. There was blood smeared on my thighs and the bed, mingled with Harry's semen. Harry knelt on the bed beside me. He must have cleaned himself because there wasn't any blood on him. "There's much more blood than the fake scene you created during our wedding night." My voice was shaky.
Harry nudged my legs apart and pressed the warm wet washcloth against me. I sucked in a breath. Harry kissed my knee. "You were a lot tighter than I thought," he said quietly. He pulled the washcloth away and I flushed, but he discarded it on the floor without another glance before he pressed his hand against my abdomen. "How bad is it?"
I put my head back on the pillow. "Not that bad. How can I complain when you're covered in scars from knife and bullet wounds?"
"We're not talking about me. I want to know how you feel, Aria. On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?"
"Now? Five?"
Harry tensed. He lowered himself beside me, curled an arm around me and scanned my face. "And during?"
I avoided his eyes. "If ten is for the worst pain I've ever felt, then eight."
"The truth."
"Ten." I whispered.
Harry clenched his jaw. "Next time will be better."
"I don't think I can again so soon."
"I didn't mean now." He said firmly, kissing my temple. "You'll be sore for a while."
"On a scale of one to ten, how fast and hard did you go? The truth." I mimicked his words.
"Two."
"Two?" I must have looked pretty horrified because Harry rubbed my stomach lightly. "We have time. I will go as gentle as you need me to."
"I can't believe Harry—The Vice—Styles said 'gentle'." I said teasingly to light the mood.
Harry smirked. He cupped my face and leaned close. "It'll be our secret."
Emotions crowded in my chest. "Thanks for being gentle. I never thought you would be."
Harry laughed, a raw sound. "Believe me, nobody's more surprised about this than me."
I rolled onto my side, wincing, and snuggled against Harry's shoulder. "You never were gentle to someone?"
"No." He said bitterly. "Our father taught Alex and me that any kind of gentleness was a weakness. And there was never any room in my life for it."
Even if the words wanted to get stuck in my throat, I said. "What about the girls you were with?"
"They were a means to an end. I wanted to fuck, so I looked for a girl and fucked her. It was hard and fast, definitely not gentle. I mostly fucked them from behind so I didn't have to look them in the eyes and pretend I gave a shit about them."
He sounded cold and cruel.
I kissed his tattoo, wanting to banish that part of him again. His arms around me tightened. "The only person who could have taught me how to be gentle was my mother." I held my breath. Would he tell me about her now? "But she killed herself when I was nine."
"I'm sorry." I wanted to ask what happened but I didn't want to push him and make him retreat behind his cold mask. Instead I cupped his cheek. He looked startled by the gesture but didn't pull away. I licked my lip, trying to suppress my curiosity.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked suddenly. For a moment, I didn't know what he was talking about. He brushed a hand across my abdomen. "Yeah, but talking helps."
"How does it help?"
"It distracts me." I gathered my courage. "Can you tell me more about your mother?"
"My father hit her. He raped her. I was young but I understood what was going on. She couldn't bear my father anymore, so she decided to slice her wrists and overdose on dope."
"She shouldn't have let you and Alex alone."
"I found her."
I jerked up and stared. "You found your mother after she'd cut her wrists?"
"That was actually the first body I saw. Of course it wasn't the last." He shrugged as if it didn't matter. "The floor was covered with her blood and I slipped on it and fell. My clothes were soaked with her blood." His voice was calm, detached. "I ran out of the bathroom screaming and crying. My father found me and slapped me. Told me to be a man and clean myself up. I did. I never cried again."
"This is horrible. You must have been terrified. You were only a boy."
He was silent. "It made me tough. At one point every boy has to lose his innocence. The mafia isn't a place for the weak."
I knew that. I'd seen how Father had tried to shape Fabiano in the last few years and it always broke my heart when my little brother had to act like a man instead of the young boy that he was. "Emotions aren't a weakness."
"Yes, they are. Enemies always aim where they can hurt you most."
"And where would the Bratva aim if they wanted to hurt you?"
Harry extinguished the lights. "They won't ever find out."
That wasn't the answer I'd hoped for but I was too tired to ponder about it. Instead I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me.
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