I run a hand over my face and exhale before forcing myself to sit up straight. Now is not the time for weakness. It won’t be long till Riccardo shows up again, and I have to be ready. I spot a bathroom door in the corner and move to stand up when my hand bumps into paper. Ah, the present. Of course.
I look at it for a second, wondering if I should just throw it into the bin right away, but I quickly catch myself. It’s my first night here. I should try and keep it simple between us. Besides, what is it that Riccardo felt the need to give to me right away?
My heart feels tight and cautious, but in the end I give up to my curiosity and open the package-only to see an intricate pattern of silk and lace. What the hell? My brain refuses to believe his audacity, and it takes me a moment to understand what it is.
It’s goddamn lingerie.
That fucking…
I throw the set away as soon as my mind processes it fully, and a wave of fury runs through me with a tremble. God, I can’t believe him. Does Riccardo think I’m gonna wear that for him? Does he really-Wait. I grasp the folds of my dress and hurry to the wardrobe, and yes, of course. It’s empty. None of my clothes are here.
Shit. I close my eyes for a second to stall myself and feel the heated waves of anger under my skin even clearer. So Riccardo thinks he can play with me, huh? Well, he’s in for a ride.
By the time Alice knocks on the door of my room, I’m already out of the wedding dress and the shower. I’ve been waiting for her on the edge of my bed with my hair wet, my legs crossed, and my hands on the sheets.
Completely naked, yes, but they left me no choice. I’m gonna play by my own rules only.
Alice only glances at me before her cheeks turn pink and her voice stutters. “S-Signora, I’ve brought fresh towels.”
“I see that, thanks.” She doesn’t seem to be able to move in my direction, so I stand up and walk over to yank the towel out of her hands. “Where’s my stupid husband?”
“Oh, you mean-Yes, Signor Riccardo is waiting for you.” Alice looks at me again only after I wrap the towel properly around me. “Do you need time to, uh, get dressed? I can help you, Signora.”
“No need for that. There’s not a single damn thing in this room.” I pull my hair out of the towel, combing my hand through it for good measure, and gesture at the door. “Are we going to him?”
The fire of anger truly pushes me forward, and at this point, I have no care about Riccardo’s power over me. I want to see his stupid face and tell him everything that I think about him. It’s not the first time anyway. He can curse me, he can hurt me, but there’s nothing he can do that would catch me off guard.
Looks like Alice catches my spirit because she doesn’t even try to protest and simply tells me to follow her. I walk out of my bedroom in just the towel and immediately notice a man next to my door. He seems to be on guard, not even moving when we pass him, but I notice the way his eyes widen for a moment. Good. I want Riccardo to feel the same.
It takes a good minute to reach his bedroom in this parody of a castle, and I almost start losing my anger when Alice finally stops next to a door, glances at me, and carefully knocks on it. “Signor, Elena is here.”
“Let her in.”
God, Riccardo sounds arrogant even through the door.
Alice opens the door for me, and I gather my strength and straighten my shoulders before marching inside with my head held high.
The first thing I notice as soon as I step inside is the abundance of dark brown and black. It looks like Riccardo sticks to the same patterns he used to like in college.
The walls of his bedroom are off-white, the furniture is the color of dark chocolate, and the curtains, the sheets, and everything that carries a color are black with streaks of white. Riccardo himself sits in an armchair, wearing a brown bathrobe, and it takes me a moment to spot his figure.
Damn.
The colors around him kinda suit him, emphasizing the tan of his skin and the dark ambers of his eyes that find my figure a moment later. With my pale skin, blond hair, and white towel, I probably look like a doll in this room.
“I see you didn’t like my present,” Riccardo says a moment later, putting away a tablet from his lap, and for some godforsaken reason, my body reacts to the deep notes of his voice. Shit. I came here to fight him, not actually share a bed with him.
“The worst one I have ever received. Did you really think you’d be able to force me into that thing?”
“Not really.” He shrugs with a note of carelessness. “I expected you to get mad and do something like…this.”
Riccardo pointedly runs his gaze over my body, and I swallow. Damn it. Is he bluffing? He must be bluffing. There’s no way he knew I’d be mad enough to do this-but at the same time, doesn’t he know that side of me? I purse my lips in displeasure, and Riccardo lets out a low chuckle.
“What, did you think you could trick me, Elena? What reaction did you expect?”
I don’t know myself. I wanted him to be shocked, annoyed, or maybe even disappointed-but it looks like I’m the one to get all those feelings instead. Damn it. I purse my lips, refusing to look at Riccardo, but from the corner of my eye I notice his movements. He stands up and walks over without a hurry, but I raise my head before he reaches me-and Riccardo obediently pauses.
“I want to leave,” I say into his eyes. It comes out harsh and demanding, but it’s better than pleading with him for anything.
Riccardo immediately laughs out loud and shakes his head. “You can’t. You’re my wife now, Elena. This time, you can’t escape.”
“But you don’t love me. I don’t love you. Why should we live together?”
Riccardo’s smile fades at that, and it looks like he’s actually contemplating my question for a moment, making my heart beat faster.
God, what if-
“Because I have to keep an eye on you.” He takes a step toward me, holding my gaze. “You are my wife now, and I don’t want you to get yourself into trouble.”
Oh. I can’t help but smirk, ignoring the way my pulse quickens when Riccardo moves even closer into my personal space. “Don’t tell me it’s your way of caring about me.”
“I care about everything that belongs to me.”
Before I have the time to understand what he’s doing, Riccardo suddenly grabs the back of my neck and pulls me toward him, forcing me into a kiss. I hum into his lips, trying to pull back, but he doesn’t let me. His kiss is not a romantic gesture, not an expression of love. Riccardo forces me to surrender to him, and it’s his way of pushing me into my place.
I grab his wrists, trying to get away from him, but I can’t find enough power in me to do that. His grip awakens something primal in me; old feelings rise in my chest, spreading through my body in waves of warmth. I hate it, I feel sick for giving up to him-but Riccardo is the only one who knows how to play with my body.
When he finally lets go of me, I immediately gasp for breath. My grip on his wrist has turned into a clutch with my nails digging into his skin, but Riccardo doesn’t seem to care. He catches my gaze, and I see only satisfaction and hunger in his eyes as he tightens his hold on me.
“You didn’t think you could escape the wedding night, did you?” Riccardo murmurs almost sweetly while his hand roughly tears the towel away from me. I can only gasp, blindly trying to catch it, but my gaze is fixed on Riccardo as my body reacts to each word with a tremble.
God. What’s wrong with me? But with Riccardo, I don’t have to think about it because each of his gestures is a response to the desires so deeply hidden under my mask of morality.
“I don’t want you,” I try to protest, tugging his hand away from me, but it sounds meek even to my ears. Riccardo grins wider, and in his eyes, I see the reflection of the same wildfire that burns in me.
“Too bad you’re mine now.”
I don’t have time to react or say anything before he grasps my waist and picks me up off the ground, earning a surprised yelp. It seems to please him, and I hate the warmth in my belly at the sight of satisfaction in his eyes. God, it’s been eight years. Why should I be so damn weak for him?
I have a chance to get out of his hold then; if I gathered enough strength, I’d be able to kick him and writhe out of his arms. But it takes me too long to realize that, and Riccardo drops me on the bed before I can do anything. The cool sheets sprawl beneath me, and I feel the heat of my own skin and the impatient trembles of my body.
“Are you still gonna pretend you don’t want this?” Riccardo hovers over me with a daring smirk, sliding his hands over my thighs, and I try to move up the bed and away from him. Or at least, I pretend to try to do that.
“I still hate you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
That goddamn-
But the rest of my thoughts drown in a gasp when Riccardo licks a stripe between my thighs, harshly pushing them apart. God, is he really going to do this? I bite my lip to stop myself from letting out any noises and look at him. Riccardo has already pulled his robe out of the way, and now I can admire the smooth lines of his muscles and the contrast of his tanned hands against my skin.
And yes, god, yes, he really is gonna do this. I close my eyes and dig my teeth into my lip, releasing a shaky exhale, when Riccardo lowers himself between my thighs. It’s been so long since I had sex with someone.
It’s been so long since it was with someone who knew my body so well.
Riccardo pushes my thighs up with so much strength it almost hurts, but I revel in the feeling. The note of pain only makes the pleasure he gives me that much sweeter, and it doesn’t take long until my moans find a way up my throat. I press my hand to my mouth, but it doesn’t help. It feels too good to hold myself back.
“You’re always like that, huh? Too prideful to get what you want.” Riccardo slaps my thigh all of a sudden, and my whole body jerks, another moan escaping my lips. Damn it.
I crack my eyes open, trying to catch my breath in the break that he’s giving me, and it gives me a perfect view of his pecs and abdomen. Riccardo sits up on his heels, pushing my thighs up and apart, and I can see the sheen of sweat on his skin and the whole length of his erection. Oh god. I slump back against the sheets and allow my body to follow his lead. I know it’s gonna feel so good, but…I was supposed to fight him, wasn’t I?
As if hearing my thoughts, Riccardo chuckles and raises his head to meet my gaze. His hands run down my thighs and to my stomach, his palms making my muscles quiver. “I know you want it, Elena. Why do you keep fighting it?”
“Because I-”
“Hate me, I know.” His palms slide to my waist, holding it tighter, and I can feel the tip of his erection press against me. Riccardo still holds my gaze, smirking at the way my lips part in response to the feeling. “Haven’t you found another lie by now?”
Riccardo thrusts into me before he finishes the question, and I can see his face twitch with pleasure. My own body immediately tenses up, his words sending a wave of anger through me. My mind tries to keep me away from the pool of pleasure, but the mixture of hatred and desire is too hot to let me hear the voice of conscience.
God, why does Riccardo have to be so good?
Every movement of his hips, every touch of his hands, every slap that he gives me makes me hiccup and whimper, moans of pleasure making their way through my tightly sealed lips. Every time I stop myself, Riccardo chuckles and pushes deeper inside of me, forcing my mind to lose every last ounce of focus.
He handles me with ease, stroking me just enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure before pulling himself out of my body and rolling me on my knees, my side, and my stomach. I lose myself on his bed, blindly following the silent orders of his hands, and Riccardo rewards me with slaps and murmurs that turn my mind into a melted pool of honey.
I have no control over my body-but it feels so damn right. How long can I keep going? My throat is sore from moans and frantic breaths, my muscles are tight, my body is covered in sweat, and the only conscious thought I have is how much I want to reach the peak. With him.
“Is that what you want, baby?”
Shit. I didn’t realize I was blabbering out loud, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t change anything. I want it so badly that I nod into the pillow, arching my back to get him deeper-and instead of laughing at me, Riccardo lets out a sound that can only be described as a purr.
“Good girl.”
His words make my whole body clench in pleasure. Yes, yes, I want to be good for him.
His hands slide down my back to my hips, and I can feel his grip tightening and his rhythm going faster. He slams into me with renewed vigor, and I can’t handle it anymore, it’s too much. My body tenses up and freezes before shuddering with a wave of orgasm. It’s so strong that it wipes everything else in my mind, and through the haze, I can hear his choked groans.
Oh, so we did come together. I hum, too out of my mind to form any proper thoughts, and slump onto the bed. How romantic, for such a messed up couple like us.