Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
This time he gets the message. He doesn’t hold back. He slams into me and I gasp with the intensity of the sensation.
“Yes, yes,” I encourage.
Our bodies slap against each other, filling the air with the filthiest of sounds, pushing me towards the cliff of my climax with every pound. Minutes later, I dissolve into the mother of all orgasms, but this time, Valentino comes with me. I feel him straining inside me, big, hard, hot, throbbing, and spurting deep into me.
It is a feat to catch my breath …. to regain my senses. I am not even sure I want to. I want to continue to bask in this unbelievable euphoria forever.
Far away in a different world comes the sounds of applause and people clapping.
“The star of the show has arrived,” Valentino remarks. His voice sounds different. I turn to look at him and I am struck by the beauty of the man I married. “Do you want to meet him?”
“No,” I whisper.
He sits up and zips up his trousers. “Then let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Seventeen
FRANCESCA
The car moves through the gathering dusk as it takes us away from Castillo Dimora. The darkened privacy glass is up and I’m seated most indecently on his lap. My back is to his front and his hands are roaming my body unashamedly. I let him have his way because there is no other option. I’ve already declared I physically belong to him, and there’s no going back, especially when he makes me feel this good.
As his fingers tease my nipple through my dress, I arch my back, and a moan falls from my lips.
“Aren’t we being rude by leaving without telling Nonna Isadora? Didn’t she ask us to call on her before we left?” I gasp.
“Ask me if I care,” he whispers in my ear, causing goosebumps to scatter on my skin. “I’d rather make love to you all night than sit through another hour of that shitty party.”
I smile in the dark. “Nonna Isadora isn’t going to like that you called her party shitty.”
“Who’s going to tell her?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck.
This is a precariously affectionate position, and I struggle with my heart. In this new step of our relationship, I should never forget that it’s always about sex and pleasure. This isn’t love. Valentino will never love me. He craves me, he desires me, and that should be enough.
An image of Thomas at my wedding intrudes into my mind and I frown. How haunted and unhappy he had looked and yet, the truth I’ve never allowed myself to face is, that Thomas didn’t even attempt to fight for me. Not once. When I told him about my impending marriage to Valentino and the circumstances surrounding it, he looked forlorn and lost, but he didn’t try to stop me or ask me to run away with him. Maybe it’s time for me to stop fighting Valentino and enjoy this marriage…
“Are you a little scared of Nonna Isadora?” I ask cheekily.
“Scared?” He chuckles, rubbing his cheek against my hair. “No, bella. I’m not scared of her, but I respect her. She raised me until I was sixteen.”
“Really?” I turn in Valentino’s arms and straddle him. Other than the stories of how lethal he is, I know so little about him. It’ll be nice to know who he used to be before the weight of heading the business fell on him. “I know nothing about you. Tell me about your mother. Who is she? How come no one knows anything about her.”
“My mother was a common prostitute,” he says emotionlessly.
“Oh!” My jaw drops with shock, but even more startling is how detached he suddenly seems to be.
“I don’t know why she carried me to full term, maybe she thought she could be a mother, but soon after I was born, she wrapped me up in a blanket and abandoned me outside the gates of my father’s house with a note to say that I was his bastard son. My father used the services of many whores so he had no idea who she could be, but once the DNA tests came back proving I was indeed his son, he sent me off to live with Nonna Isadora as he had no interest in taking care of an infant.
“So, you grew up without a mother or father?” I remark softly.
“Is that pity I hear in your voice, baby?” He wraps the strand of my hair around his fist and tugs my head back, exposing my neck. His mouth assaults my bare flesh, causing me to soak my panties with pleasure.
“It’s not pity,” I say, pushing him away. “It is interest. I’m not your mistress. I’m your wife. I want to know everything about you.”
He blinks with surprise, then runs a hand through his hair. It’s clear he does not want to talk and would rather be making love to me, but this is important. I want to know him.