Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 221

Gianna's POV

Morning light slipped through the curtains, spilling across the room and pulling me awake.

I felt him before I fully woke, his large body wrapped around mine, his arm heavy and possessive across my waist, his breath warm against my neck.

His hand moved first, trailing up my arm in a slow, lazy caress.

Then his fingers threaded through my wild curls, pushing them aside so he could press his face into the crook of my neck.

I felt him inhale deeply, breathing me in like I was oxygen itself.

"Good morning, pretty doll."

A sleepy smile tugged at my lips. "Good morning, husband."

The word husband seemed to ignite something in him.

His arm tightened around my waist, and suddenly he was pulling me deeper against him, molding my body to his like he could not bear even an inch of space between us.

"You're so beautiful in the morning," he murmured against my neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. "Hair wild, skin flushed, wearing nothing but my scent and these marks I left on you." His teeth grazed my shoulder, right where I knew a mark bloomed. "Perfection."

Warmth spread through my chest, sending a deep, bone-deep contentment that made my heart feel too big for my ribcage.

I snuggled back against him, letting myself sink into his solid warmth. Then, on purpose, teasingly, I shifted my hips against him.

The response was immediate and exactly what I had hoped for.

He groaned, low and rough, the sound rumbling through his chest and into my back.

His fingers dug into my waist, holding me still, but it was too late.

He stirred against me, firm and insistent even through the thin layers of fabric separating us.

"Gianna," he said, his voice already rough with desire. "You like playing dirty."

I grinned, arching my back slightly to press more firmly against him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

His dark chuckle vibrated against my spine. "Liar."

His lips brushed against my throat, and I felt him smile against my skin. "Last night," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction and possession. "You surrendered completely. You're mine now, Gianna, in every way that matters."

His hand slid down to rest possessively on my hip. "And you were worth the wait. Every agonizing moment of restraint. Every time I had to stop myself from taking you before you were ready."

His grip tightened. "I'd do it all again, a thousand times over, just to have you the way I did last night."

My chest constricted, emotion flooding through me so intensely it made my eyes sting.

"I know our beginning was complicated. Forced. But last night..."

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "It felt like a choice. My choice. And I chose you, Dante. I chose to give myself to you completely."

I turned in his arms, pressing myself against him, my hand coming up to cup his face.

"Hmm?" I teased, even as heat pooled low in my belly. "It feels like I missed out on a whole year of potential experiences."

"The only thing you missed out on," his voice dropped into that controlled, dangerous tone, "was a year of disappointment from boys who would not know how to satisfy you if their lives depended on it."

He rolled suddenly, pinning me beneath him, his weight pressing me into the mattress. "Boys who would rush and leave you frustrated and unsatisfied."

"Relax, I was just kidding." I reached up to touch his face, trying to soften his expression. "My dad did not even let me go to college long enough to meet anyone. It would have been impossible anyway."

But he did not relax. If anything, his grip tightened, his eyes still flashing with that dangerous edge.

"You think joking about other men touching you is funny?" His voice was low and lethal.

"No, I..." I bit my lip, realizing my teasing had gone too far. "What I meant was, if I had known how good it could be, I would have wanted it earlier with you."

His expression shifted, but the possessive intensity did not fade.

"That is what you should have said the first time," he said, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Not that careless nonsense about other men."

"I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Jokes like that have consequences, pretty doll." His thumb traced my lower lip, the gesture somehow both tender and threatening. "You want to tease me, fine. But choose your words more carefully. Because hearing you talk about being with anyone else makes me want to lock you in this room and never let you out."

My breath caught at the dark promise in his voice. "You wouldn't."

"Try me." His eyes held mine. "Test me again with that kind of joke and find out exactly how possessive I can be."