Page 21 of DeLuca: The Devil

Stroking the side of her cheek, I say, “I could punish you.”

Giada gazes into my eyes like she sees something nobody else does. Like if she looks deep enough, she’ll find all the answers to the world in my soul, “It would be worth it, Dom.”

I force myself to look away from her when it begins to feel too intimate, “I’ll have a slice of the Cherry Cheesecake. I have a sudden fondness for cherries.”

Giada slaps my arm, “Dom!”

“What kind of cake do you want, Wife?”

“Salted Caramel, please.”

I look down at her, fuck, that blush on her cheeks is perfect. I’ll need to embarrass her more often. I pick her plate up with my own, and escort her to the dining room table. I sit down and pull her onto my lap, and she smiles, “Thank you for this.”

She takes a bite of her cake and moans, which travels straight to my dick. Then she does it over and over again, and I wonder if she’s fucking with me. “Keep that up and you won’t get a chance to say goodbye to your friend.”

Giada glances at me, “What?”

She has a light dusting of caramel on her lips, and I’ve never wanted caramel in my mouth more than I do right now. Leaning down, I swipe my tongue across her lips, she moans again. I grab her face and kiss her like I’ve wanted to for the last two days. She parts her lips, and I swipe her tongue with my own, Giada grabs my shirt, pulling me closer to her. Fuck, I need her.

I break our kiss, “It’s time to say your goodbye’s Wife, I need you. Fucking now.”

Standing, I pull her with me and find her friend talking to my brothers, Dante and Drake. “It’s time for this party to end.”

Drake and Damian laugh, knowing exactly why. I’ve wanted to fuck her since the first time I saw her in Devil. But I’ve never wanted her like I do right now.

She hugs Natalia, I make a point to set clear expectations, “You will not see each other again until this is dealt with. It’s unsafe. When it is, Natalia, my wife will contact you. Do not try to come to the club to get information.”

Her friend has tears rolling down her cheeks, “Will you call me if- if something happens to her?”

I nod, “I will.”

That’s not a call I plan on making because I intend to keep her safe and end this war with both Bianchi and Baretti dead. Giada hugs her tightly and they say their goodbyes. I motion for Marc to come over to me.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Make sure everybody gets into their vehicles and drives away safely.”

He knows exactly what I’m referring to. About six years ago we had bombs planted in a couple of our vehicles. I don’t expect that to be the case tonight, but you can never be too sure.

My expectation is that after I inform Baretti I’ve married his daughter, that’s when the violence will start, not before he knows for sure who has her. What he’ll be most pissed about is losing his deal with the Bianchi’s. He doesn’t give a shit about what happens to his daughter, only that he’s losing his opportunity at more money and power. As his only daughter, Giada was his one chance. The truth is he has no choice but to retaliate. If he doesn’t it will be seen as a weakness. He’ll begin losing the contracts he has. In this business, a weak family means the end of a family.

After everybody makes their way out, I take Giada’s hand and walk her upstairs. I lock the door behind me, and gaze at my wife, as she trembles.

I close the distance between us and take her into my arms, “It’s okay, Bellissima. I’m going to be gentle tonight.”

Reaching around her, I unzip the back of her dress, push it down over her tits, then over her hips, letting it fall to the floor. Stepping back, I release her and take her in. She’s wearing a white corset and matching panties. Her hair is pulled up with the veil still in, but she has little bits of hair framing her face. She’s the picture of virginity. Like the devil I am, I want to steal every bit of her innocence and drag her to hell with me, corrupting her in ways she has never imagined.

Chapter Fifteen

GIADA

Spinning me around, Domenic undoes the million buttons on the back of my corset. It falls to the floor beside my dress. He groans, “So stunning.”

“Undress me, Wife.”

I turn back so I’m facing him and push his suit jacket over his shoulders. I begin undoing his buttons, but my hands won’t stop shaking.

I look into his face, “I’m sorry.”

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