Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 163

Dante's POV

A smirk tugged at my lips before I could stop it. The combination of her innocence and that bold gesture, pointing at my cock like she was identifying evidence, was too fucking adorable.

"You're laughing at me!" Her eyes widened with indignation, her face flushing deeper. "I hate you."

My expression sobered immediately. "I'm not laughing at you."

"You were smirking!"

"Because one moment you're innocent and sweet, and the next you're throwing vases at my head and threatening to bash my skull in."

I shook my head, exhaling roughly. "The combination is..." I paused as I searched for the right words, words that didn't make me sound like some lovesick fool. "I never know which version of you I'm going to get. It's maddening. Unpredictable."

My voice dropped lower. "And somehow that's exactly what makes you intoxicating."

Guilt flashed across her face. "That was different."

"Was it?"

"Yes." She bit her lip, her eyes dropping to where my hand still gripped my cock. "I know we've done a lot of stuff and come close to having sex many times, but we haven't actually... and the truth is I'm starting to feel nervous."

"Nervous about what?" I stroked myself slowly, watching her eyes track the movement.

"What if..." She hesitated, her cheeks burning. "What if you don't like it?"

The question stopped me cold. My hand stilled on my cock as I stared at her in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"

"I just mean."

"Gianna." I released my cock and leaned forward, bracing my hands on either side of her head. "Look at me."

She obeyed, her eyes meeting mine uncertainly.

"I would beyond love it," I said firmly, letting her see the raw hunger in my eyes. "My cock is a testament to how desperate I am to be inside you. I've been hard since we left the reception. Since before that. Since I saw you walking down that aisle toward me."

"But..."

"No buts." I kissed her hard, cutting off her protest. When I pulled back, I held her gaze. "And I love how you opened up to me just now. How you're bold enough to point at my cock and tell me you're worried instead of pretending everything's fine. Most women would just lie there and act like they weren't terrified. But not you."

"Well, I'm not most women," she muttered. "And pretending seems stupid when you're about to put that inside me."

Another smirk threatened, but I fought it down. "No, you're not most women. You're my wife. My Gianna. And you're right to be concerned."

Her eyes widened. "That's not reassuring!"

"Let me finish." I moved closer, settling one knee on the bed, my hand returning to stroke myself as her eyes remained glued to the movement. "I'm big. You're small. That's a fact we can't change."

"Dante."

"But," I continued, my voice firm, "your body is designed to stretch. To accommodate. And I promise you, bella, I'm going to make this as good as I possibly can. You'll feel some pain. I can't help that completely, but not if I can help it. Not more than necessary."

Her breath hitched, some of the panic easing from her expression. "You promise?"

"I promise." I released my cock and placed my hand over my heart. "I'll go slow. I'll make sure you're ready. And I'll stop if you need me to."

"Okay." She took a shaky breath, but I could still see the tension in her body, the way her muscles were coiled tight, her thighs trembling where they were spread wide.

"Gianna De Luca." Her new name felt like victory on my tongue as I captured her mouth in a kiss that was pure possession, swallowing her whimper as my body pressed against hers.

"My wife," I murmured against her lips, the words vibrating between us before I claimed her mouth again.

She melted into me, her body relaxing as our mouths moved together. I kissed her like I was trying to consume her, like I could somehow pull her soul into my body through sheer force of will. My tongue swept against hers, tasting the remnants of wine and wedding cake and something uniquely her that made my head spin.

My lips left hers to trail down her jaw, sucking at the sensitive skin. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my mouth. Lower, to her neck.

I sucked hard, marking her again, making sure everyone would know she belonged to someone.

"Dante..." She breathed my name softly, and the sound went straight to my cock.

My mouth moved lower to the swell of her breasts.

"Perfect." I murmured against her skin, my hands cupping the soft mounds.

She bit her lip, her eyes meeting mine with uncertainty. "You don't think they're too small?"

I pulled back, staring at her like she'd lost her mind. "Too small?" I cupped them again, squeezing gently. "Gianna, these breasts are perfect. They fit my hands like they were made specifically for me to hold.”

"Really?" Her cheeks flushed pink.

"Really." I leaned down, circling one breast with kisses, moving closer to the peak with agonizing slowness. "I could worship these breasts for hours and never get tired of them."

Her nipple hardened in anticipation, the dusky pink tip practically begging for attention.

"Please!" She arched her back, trying to push her breast into my mouth.