His palm stuck to the thin material of my wedding dress. It was sweaty and heavy and too warm. Slowly it traveled lower until it rested on my butt. I suppressed a shudder. I wanted to push his hand away, push him away but he was my husband and soon enough he’d touch me there without the protection of fabric, he would touch me everywhere, would see every inch of skin that was supposed to be Romero’s only.
Sickness washed over me, and I almost threw up. Sheer power of will kept my wedding dinner in my stomach. I glimpsed over my shoulder, even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do it. My eyes searched the crowd for Romero but he wasn’t there. Part of me was glad that he didn’t have to witness Benito pawing me, but the other, the bigger part, was disappointed. That silly part had hoped that he’d somehow stop this. Of course that would have only gotten him killed. They would have shot him on the spot and then war would have broken out. Many people would have died, maybe even Fabi, Aria, and Gianna. It was a good thing that he’d kept his oath, that he hadn’t interfered and let me do what was expected of me.
I turned back around and realized that we’d already arrived in front of our room for the night, a guest bedroom because the Brascis believed it was bad luck if a married couple spent their first night in the master bedroom. Benito opened the door and half shoved me into the bedroom. I froze in the middle of the room, listening to the sound of the door closing and Benito’s steps. “You’re a real beauty,” he said, his voice already thick with desire. “I wanted to be alone with you all evening. If it hadn’t looked rude, I’d have taken you to our room hours ago.”
Bile clogged my throat. I didn’t dare move from fear of vomiting onto my shoes. He gripped my arms and turned me around to him, then before I could even gather my bearings his mouth pressed against mine. I gasped, and he used the chance to thrust his tongue past my lips. He tasted of the cigars he’d smoked with the other men, and it made me feel even sicker. His tongue was everywhere. He didn’t give me the chance to do anything. God, this was horrible. My hands grasped his shoulders, fingers digging into his suit, and I shoved as hard as I could, but his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me even tighter, giving me no chance to escape. His breathing was quick and excited. He was so eager.
I didn’t want this. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears and desperately trying to imagine it was Romero kissing me, but everything about this felt wrong. The clumsy hands on my waist, the taste of him, the way he moved his tongue like a dying slug.
Ripping away from him, I drew in a few desperate breaths. His taste lingered on my tongue. I wanted to rinse my mouth to get rid of it.
Benito stepped in front of me again and leaned close. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take good care of you. I’m going to make you a woman. You’ll never forget this night.”
I knew I’d never forget it. I’d probably have nightmares about it for the rest of my life. Mother’s last words, the look in her eyes filled my mind. How could I have let it come this far?
“No, I can’t.” I took a step back. I needed to get away, out of this room, needed to find Romero and tell him that I couldn’t survive this marriage, that I wanted only him, that he’d always been the one I wanted and would keep wanting him till the day I died. I was being selfish, I knew. But I didn’t care about causing a war anymore if the alternative meant having to spend my life being touched by Benito. Maybe Luca could handle the situation. He was a good Capo. He could prevent war. Right?
Benito’s expression tightened, that sugary sweet smile being replaced by something more leery and hungry.
Fear settled like a weight in my stomach. He grabbed my arms too tightly, making me wince. “You are my wife and you will do what’s expected of you.”
“No, please. I’m not ready. I need more time.” Time to figure out a way out of this without getting everyone killed. There had to be a way where nobody got hurt.
Benito chuckled. “Oh, don’t try this bullshit with me, sweetie. I’ve been jerking off to the image of your perfect perky ass for weeks now. Tonight I want to bury my cock in it. Nothing in this world will stop me, not even your big puppy dog eyes.”
I opened my mouth for another attempt at begging but Benito pushed me backward. I cried out in surprise.
My heel caught in the hem of my wedding dress and then I was falling. I braced myself for the impact, instead I landed on something soft and bouncy: the bed. How could I have been this close to it?
I tried to scramble off immediately but didn’t get the chance. Benito leaned over me, his knees between my legs, pinning my dress beneath him. I was stuck. I struggled, but my legs were tied down by the fabric. And I panicked. Panicked like I’d never had before, not even when I saw the torture scene in the basement.
Benito lowered his face down to mine and then he kissed me again. I turned my head to the side so he slobbered all over my cheek. His fingers clutched my chin, forcing me to face him. His cigar breath washed over me and his chapped lips were too close. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Listen, sweetheart. We can do this the easy or the hard way. For your sake, I hope you work with me. I don’t give a shit either way. I like it rough.”
He meant it. He’d force himself on me if I kept up the struggling, I could see it in his eyes. I couldn’t expect any kindness from my husband tonight. Tears and pleading wouldn’t change his mind.
I willed myself to relax beneath him. He smiled in a condescending way and shifted his body, finally letting my dress free. He pressed up against me, his mouth wet on my throat. He licked his way down to my collarbone. I tried to imagine it was Romero and when that didn’t work, I tried to stop thinking about him altogether. Tried to be empty and numb, tried to cast my mind to another place and time, away from my husband who would have his way with me, no matter what I wanted. Benito shoved my skirt up and slipped his hand up my calf. He grunted appreciatively and pressed his body even closer against mine. I could feel how much this excited him. Whenever I’d felt Romero’s erection, I’d been excited, but this? Oh God. I couldn’t do this. But he was my husband and I was his wife. I’d chosen this way to protect everyone who wanted to help me. This was my duty, not only to him but to my family, to the Outfit. It was the fate of many women. They had survived and so could I.
I hated the sounds my husband made, the smell that wasn’t Romero’s, the way his clumsy fingers tugged at my dress. He was my husband. His hand traveled up to my knee.
My husband.
Then up to my thigh.
My husband. My husband. My husband.
His hand reached the edge of my panties and I couldn’t take it anymore. I lay my palms against his chest and pushed him off me. I wasn’t sure where I found the strength. Benito had at least seventy pounds on me, but he lost his balance and fell to his side. I leaped off the bed but my dress was slowing me down. I staggered toward the door, arms extended. My fingers were mere inches from the doorknob when Benito caught up with me. His fingers bruised my forearm with their grip, and he flung me back toward the center of the room. I couldn’t gain my footing quick enough and fell forward, hip bones colliding with the desk in the corner. I screamed out from pain. Tears burned in my eyes.
Benito pressed up behind me as I was bent forward and his erection dug into my butt. “Tonight, doll, you are mine.”