“I think it’s time we said goodnight,” Nico says, taking my hand in his.
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Papa says. “Have you thought about a honeymoon? I’d be happy to pay for it.”
“We haven’t discussed it,” I say and my voice sounds so small.
“Well, think on it.” Papa kisses my cheek. His lips are like bee-stings. “Goodnight, daughter. Goodnight, son.”
“Goodnight, Don Bruno.” Nico steers me away back toward the house. Several drunk and happy guests shout their congratulations as we climb upstairs.
“Are you okay?” He tilts his head and closes the door behind him when we reach my bedroom.
I drift to my window. My charcoal sketchpads are stacked on the chair and I pick one up at random, letting my fingers drag down the black, getting the dust in the lines on my palm.
“I think so. I just feel like Papa’s hiding something about Elise.”
“He very well might be. They have an odd relationship.” His voice gets closer until he’s right behind me. He touches my shoulders and kisses my neck.
I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of him behind me.
“Is this it?” I whisper. “Our wedding night?”
“This is our wedding night,” he confirms.
“And do you have certain expectations of me?”
He kisses me again and bites my flesh lightly.
“Yes, princess, I do.”
And a thrill runs down my spine as my husband turns me around and buries my mouth with his.
Chapter 28
Karah
My wedding night.
For as long as I can remember, there’s been a promise embedded in the phrase my wedding night: a promise of sin, of decadence, of experiencing all the physical pleasures I’ve been denied so long. My family is traditional and my bodily “purity” (not so much my bodily autonomy, which is another issue entirely) was important to Papa—because a woman can’t be worth something if she’s been defiled, his word, not mine—which means my virginity remains intact.
And I’m not sure how I feel about that.
Because as Nico slowly unzips my dress and kisses my neck in that incredible, delicious way he has, I’m suddenly afraid of what’s about to happen. I’ve had him in my mouth and I know Nico is particularly blessed below the belt—he’s got a huge cock, no need for me to be coy about it, we’re married now, after all—and I’m terrified that he’ll rip me to shreds.
I’ve heard the stories. The first time is hard, it hurts, sex takes a while to feel good, but I don’t want to wait, I don’t want to go through the motions with him over and over until that spine-tingling pleasure builds along my flesh—I want it now, right here, tonight.
I’m impatient. I’ve waited for so long for one small bit of happiness and pleasure, and now it’s here in this room with Nico and somehow I’m expected to wait a little bit longer, but that feels like a punishment, like an eternity, like a nightmare.
I can’t wait. I won’t.
It feels like a trick’s been played on me. Do all the right things, but it still goes wrong.
Nico seems to sense my uncertainty as he bites my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just thinking about what you’re going to do to me.”
“You say that like I’m about to skin you alive.”
“Aren’t you?”
He bites my lower lip. “Something like that.”
“Don’t joke.”
He smiles and pulls me against him. “No, Karah. I’m not going to hurt you. Remember, it’s our wedding night. I said I’d try to be nice.”
“You don’t do nice very well, hate to break it to you.”
“Would you rather if I were mean? I can be rougher if that’s what you need.”
“No,” I whisper, blushing as I look into his eyes. “No, that’s the opposite of what I want.”
He blinks and tilts his head. “You’re nervous.”
“It’s my first time.”
“Ah, I understand.” He kisses me gently. “You don’t want me to hurt you. You think it can’t feel good just because you’re a virgin.”
“Can’t it? That’s what everyone says.”
“Karah, everyone’s a fucking idiot.” He kisses me again, harder. “Your first time doesn’t have to be painful.” Another kiss. His tongue tastes magnificent, like a symphony of lust. “Your fist time doesn’t need to be awkward.” He moves me toward the bed and I’m trembling as he gently pulls down the dress. “First times are only those things because the two people involved are inexperienced, but I know what I’m doing. You’ve felt it already, princess. I’ll take care of you if you’ll let me.”
My dress falls forward and I let it drop to the floor. I’m not wearing a bra and my nipples instantly stiffen as his eyes graze over my naked chest like he’s studying me for a painting and committing me to memory. The idea’s like fire in my core—he wants me, he finds me attractive, no, he finds me desirable. He’s insatiable for me, and that’s the more intoxicating thought I’ve ever had, like I can drive this man wild, a dangerous man, a deadly man—a man that’s hated me for so long.