When She Loves: Chapter 10

The reception takes place in a mansion on the Hudson River that was converted into a luxury hotel.

From the moment Rafaele and I sat down at the sweetheart table, the walls of the lavish ballroom have been pressing down on me.

I’m itching to sneak out and talk to Vale, but all these people I don’t know won’t stop giving toasts to Rafaele. My name is mentioned a few times too, but I don’t pay attention to their fake flattery.

How can I when I’ve just discovered my husband kisses me like he wants to devour me?

My heart beats quickly inside my chest. It beat even quicker when Rafaele’s tongue was in my mouth and his hands were on me, possessive and demanding.

He’s supposed to be the ice prince, but there was nothing cold about his touch. A shameful heat pulses between my legs at the memory.

What is wrong with me?

Rafaele is the enemy. He is single-handedly ruining my life. I’m supposed to be repulsed by him. But my mind and my body don’t seem to be on the same page at the moment. Kissing him again in the limo was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let him provoke me like that.

What have I gotten myself into?

I grab my glass of wine and drain half of it in one gulp.

An old, creepy-looking man approaches our table and offers his congratulations. “It’s a fine day to get married, Don Messero. And look at your beautiful bride.” He gives me a lecherous look. “She looks ripe for the taking.”

I nearly choke on my wine. Excuse me?

He stares at my breasts. “I still remember how Clarissa bled on our wedding night. She was too embarrassed to look at the sheets the next day.”

His words are like a bucket of cold water. Whatever effect kissing Rafaele had on me disappears in a blink.

Forget it. These people are disgusting, and so is Rafaele for following this sick tradition. I can’t ever let myself forget that.

“Maybe I can share a few tips—”

“That’s enough, Uncle Julius,” Rafaele interrupts, his voice cold. “I don’t need any tips, and if I were you, I’d reconsider the direction of your gaze. ”

The creepy uncle’s eyes jump to Rafaele. “Don Messero, I wasn’t—I mean, I meant no disrespect.”

“Your daughter is calling you over. You better head back to your table.”

No one was calling him over, but Rafaele must have noticed me reaching for my steak knife.

The old man hobbles away, and Rafaele puts his hand on my thigh. “Ignore him. He’s practically senile.”

I shove his hand off me. “Something tells me he wasn’t any less disgusting when he was all there.”

Rafaele turns to me, but I pointedly look away. I don’t know how I’ll make it through the evening. I’m not afraid of having sex. In fact, I think I’d enjoy it very much under the right circumstances. But what’s supposed to happen tonight is sick.

I hate the idea that I owe my virginity to Rafaele. That I have to let him take it. And that I have to be okay with displaying the evidence of the act to his entire family.

Does Rafaele think he can make me forget all that just because he knows how to kiss? I said I’d marry him, and I did. But I never said I’d just accept my new life with no questions asked and no resistance.

If he wants to make me into his obedient wife, he better be ready for me to fight him at every turn. Let’s see who throws in the towel first.

Vale gets out of her seat and tips her head in the direction of the bathroom. I stand up to go meet her, but before I can even take a step, Rafaele grabs my forearm.

I glare at him. “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

His gaze jumps between Vale and me.

If he tries to stop me from talking to my sister, I swear I’m going to lose it. I’m already on edge. Maybe he sees that in my eyes, because after a moment he lets me go.

“Don’t take too long.”

I march out of the room. Vale is waiting for me just outside the bathroom. I rush over to her and give her a tight hug. “How’s Gem? Is she feeling okay?”

My sister presses a kiss to my cheek before she pulls away and looks me over. “She’s fine. We took her to a doctor as soon as she and Ras got to Italy, just to make sure everything is alright.”

“Ras and her are good? He forgave her for leaving him in Greece?”

Vale smiles. “Of course, he did. He’s completely smitten with her. Can’t stop talking about how excited he is to be a father.”

A grin pulls at my lips. It’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. “Thank God. Fuck, Vale. I’ve been so worried about her since we said goodbye. No one would tell me anything. It wasn’t until I met Vince to walk me down the aisle that I heard Gem got away all right.”

“God, it must have been awful being kept in the dark.” Vale squeezes my hand. “But you don’t need to worry anymore. Gem is safe with us, thanks to you.”

We step inside the bathroom, and I lock the door behind us.

Vale’s expression falls. “Cleo, I wish there was something we could have done to prevent this from happening.”

“There wasn’t,” I say. “What’s done is done. I’ll take care of myself, but you have to promise you’ll take care of Gemma.”

“Of course we will. She’s got me, as well as Ras. But I’m worried about you. You have no one here to support you.”

“It’s fine. Maybe I’ll convince Rafaele to let the two of you visit.”

“Are you going to be okay living with him?” She brushes her palms down my arms, her eyes filling with tears. “You’ve always craved independence and now…”

And now I’m a prisoner. Expected to serve at the will of my tyrannical husband.

I hide my devastation from Vale because there’s no point in upsetting her. What’s done is done, and most importantly, Gemma and her baby are safe.

I force a casual shrug. “You know how I am. Rafaele doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into by marrying me. I’ll drive him up the wall. I bet he’ll be sick of me soon.”

“Be careful with him. Please. He’s clever and dangerous. Far more than Papà. Don’t push his buttons.”

Oh, I’m planning on giving his buttons a serious workout, but I don’t want to worry Vale, so I say, “I’ll be careful.”

She gives me a wary look that says she doesn’t quite believe me. “If you need anything, just call me. Gemma and I are only a phone call away.”

We hug again before she goes to use the toilet, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stare at myself in the mirror. A bride is supposed to feel beautiful on her wedding day. My hair is shiny and bright. My wedding dress is flattering. My jewelry is impeccable.

But I don’t feel beautiful.

I feel trapped.

The rest of the reception is a blur.

I pick at my food until it’s time for the first dance. Rafaele stands and helps me to my feet, his touch warm and steady. I move through it all in a trance. It doesn’t feel real. I’m someone’s wife.

Someone’s property.

More couples appear around us. There’s a flash of Vale and Damiano before they disappear behind other bodies.

My new owner stares down at me as he leads me across the dance floor.

I spend an entire song pressed up against his strong body, inhaling his crisp, masculine scent. His hand is low on my back, his pinky finger resting on the curve of my butt.

I think back to how he grabbed me in the limo, like he couldn’t help himself, and I swallow hard.

He wants me.

Despite knowing that I only married him to save my sister, he expects me to give myself to him willingly.

I frown. He could have taken whatever he wanted when I refused to kiss him in the limo. Physically, I don’t stand a chance against him. But for some reason, he didn’t.

He wanted me to admit that I enjoyed it. That I wanted him too.

I won’t give him that. Not tonight and not ever.

We finish the dance and return to our seats. It’s getting late. I eye the clock, sweating in anticipation of what’s to come. The wedding gown sticks to my skin. I lift my hair off my neck and hope for a breeze. It never comes.

I try not to look at my husband, but he’s impossible to avoid. He reaches for his wine, his thick, tanned fingers curling around the stem of the glass, and brings it to his lips. Veins run over the back of his hand and disappear under his shirtsleeve.

An image of him pushing those sleeves up his corded forearms flashes before my eyes. Something nervous and hot curls in the pit of my belly. I scrape my nails over my cheek, suddenly convinced I shouldn’t have drunk all that wine, because it’s wreaking havoc inside my mind.

He’s your enemy. Your jailer. Don’t give him what he wants. Don’t melt for him.

I shiver as he trails a hand down my back.

“We’ll leave in five minutes,” he says in a low voice.

I nod, my blood running hot inside my veins. I focus on my breathing and drink a full glass of water to cool down.

My resolve to resist him strengthens when we get up to leave and Rafaele’s men start jeering. “Bed her! Bed her! Bed her!”

Rafaele’s grip on my arm is tight as he leads me out of the reception hall and toward the large staircase. I keep my chin up and try to tune out the catcalls and the wolf whistles from his men.

We take the stairs to the second floor and stop before a bedroom at the very end of the hall. Rafaele opens the door and motions for me to enter.

I step onto a plush, blue carpet and move toward the center of the room. My gaze lands on the perfectly made bed with its crisp white sheets and a…red accent pillow.

The door closes behind me.

I stare at that mockery of a pillow as Rafaele’s hands land on my hips. He pulls my back against his front, and he’s all hard muscle beneath that suit. His lips fall to my throat, soft and teasing.

The sensations that follow momentarily stun me. My body comes alive, buzzing at each careful stroke of his tongue against my flesh.

I’m also quite good at other things.

My nipples tighten.

Push him away.

He palms one of my breasts and makes a satisfied sound at the back of his throat that makes a pulse appear between my legs. And then he closes the tiny bit of space left between our lower bodies and lets me feel every hard inch of him against my ass.

Oh fuck.

His fingers slide into my hair. He turns my head sideways, leans down, and claims my lips, pushing his tongue inside my mouth. There’s a tug on the top button of my dress as he begins to undress me.

This is moving very fucking quickly.

I jerk out of his grasp. “Enough.”

He’s breathing heavily, his dark, lustful eyes traveling over me.

Slowly, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. “You don’t get to kiss me.”

The arousal in his gaze flickers.

I reach behind my back and undo the remaining four buttons at the back of the dress. “And you don’t get to undress me.” I let the dress fall off my shoulders into a puddle at my feet. Next, I shed my bra and panties and stand before him, my body naked except for the diamonds.

I keep those on. They’re armor. The hardest gem in the entire world, and a reminder for me to be just as unbreakable.

Rafaele is frozen as he drags his hungry and slightly baffled gaze over my naked body.

He wants his stupid bloody sheets? I’ll give them to him. But that’s all he’s going to get.

I walk over to the bed, climb onto it, and lie down on my back.

“Do it,” I say, my gaze on the ceiling and my fists clenched. “I want to get this over with.”

A beat passes. And then he’s on me, his hand wrapped around my neck.

I suck in a shaky breath. His hold on me is firm but not so tight as to make breathing difficult.

His lips brush against my own. “Have you forgotten that I’m your husband and that I get to do whatever I want with you?”

I swallow. “Go ahead. Rape me.”

When his expression turns to stone at the word, I know I read him right. What he wants is for me to come to him willingly. Triumph swells inside my chest. For the first time, I have the upper hand. He has to do it. We have to consummate the marriage.

But he won’t enjoy it.

And if I deny him long enough, he’ll understand he made a mistake marrying me. As long as I never give him what he wants, I’ll have power over him. One day, I may even find a way to use that power to convince him to let me go.

“That’s not what this is,” he growls. “You knew the terms of this marriage. You consented to them.”

“I know I have to give myself to you, but I don’t want you. I won’t enjoy a second of it. Call it what you want.”

He stares at me for a long moment, searching my eyes for a hint that I’m bluffing.

He won’t find it.

When I don’t flinch or look away, his gaze narrows. I expect it to harden as he comes to terms with what he has to do, but instead, it turns uncertain.

That can’t be right.

This is Rafaele Messero, a man whose dark reputation is a living, breathing companion that follows him everywhere he goes. I have a lot of questions swirling inside my head, but whether or not he’s capable of forcing himself onto me tonight isn’t one of them. That’s a given. We have to consummate this marriage, or his family won’t accept it. They’ll be happy to have an excuse to annul it.

He can’t take that risk. Not when his ability to inherit my father’s empire is on the line.

He pushes off me and stands at the foot of the bed. The fabric of his slacks brushes against my bare knees. Seconds tick by. My heart is a tribal drum inside my chest. He doesn’t move.

“What are you waiting for?”

Is he trying to draw it out? To let me sink deeper into my fear?

My fists clench.

Finally, he starts taking off his jacket.

A ball of dread solidifies inside my belly. Despite my best efforts, my thighs squeeze together and my lips begin to tremble. Adrenaline and fear pump through my veins.

I wait for him to climb on top of me, to take what he believes is owed to him.

I count my breaths, readying myself.

But seconds pass and nothing happens.