Page 19 of Brutal Husband

And I do. Just not here. “I’m not kissing my bride in the street for all these perverts to see how pretty she looks as her cheeks turn pink and she squashes her perfect tits against me.”

“It could have just been a simple kiss,” she protests, but she’s smiling as she says it.

I take her to one of the bigger clubs where I have an office that I know will be deserted at this time of day.

When we get there, I take her by the hand and lead her through the pounding music, past the bar and the roulette tables, and upstairs to a red velvet office. As soon as I close the heavy door behind us, the world disappears.

“I’ve been thinking about you,cara mia,” I whisper up her throat as I take her in my arms. “That bitch stole your blood and your tears. They belong to me.” I press kiss after kiss to her lips. “I want your blood on my dick as I fuck you the first time. I want those tears on your cheeks as I force you to your knees and fuck your throat.”

“Nero, you can’t say things like that,” she whimpers.

“Yes, I can. I’m your fucking husband.”

Rieta clings tightly to my shirt with both hands.

“Did you choose the off-the-shoulder dress with the long lace sleeves? You look hot as hell with your throat exposed like that.” I nip her with my teeth.

Her eyes go wide. “How do you know which dresses I tried on?”

I just smile at her. When I try to kiss her, she jerks her head back. “I can’t believe you were watching us. It’s creepy, and don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

“Always assume I’m watching,cara mia. I don’t let my obsessions out of my sight.”

“I’m not your obsession. I’m your fiancée.”

“What’s the difference?” I press my mouth over hers in a searing kiss, and this time, she doesn’t have time to pull away. She melts against me, and as I thrust my tongue into her mouth, her lips part for me. I feel her sharp inhale that pushes her breasts against my chest.

I break the kiss and glare down at her. “Just in case you were thinking otherwise, I’ll make this clear now. No more job interviews. There are too many lonely, horny men in hotels. I don’t want to see you around other men, or I won’t be responsible for what I do.”

She arches her eyebrow, her expression challenging me. “Oh, really?”

With a bride as beautiful as Rieta, I can’t be too careful. “I mean it, Rieta. Pay attention to another man, and I’ll kill him.”

Rieta’s mouth falls open.

I smile at her. This shouldn’t be a surprise. It’s what any normal husband would do. If a man approaches her with the intent to win her away from me, I’ll murder him.

Rieta laughs. “You’re joking. For a second there I thought I might be marrying a psycho.”

She can believe I’m joking if it makes her feel better. I reach for her hand and lift it to my lips. “Believe what you want, but it would be wise to remember my words.”

Rieta is keen to change the subject. She glances around my office and asks, “What is this place?”

“This is where I work. No one will come in and disturb us. I’ve locked the door.”

I take her face in my hands and brush the backs of my fingers across her delicate cheekbones. In all my life, I have never held such a beautiful woman in my arms. Her innocence is charming, but her boldness has ensnared me. The way she blushes and gets wet when I say dirty things to her is addictive.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I stroke her cheek.

“Committing every detail of you to memory,” I murmur, caressing her. “Your eyes. These lips. This throat.” As I trail my hand down the column of her neck, her head tips back, and her eyes dilate.

I pat my desk behind her. “Sit that lush ass here, pull up your skirt, and show me your panties. I want to see if there’s a wet spot.”

She hesitates for just a moment, and then a smile curls her lips as she sits down and draws her dress up her thighs. Fuck, her thighs. I want to lose myself for hours between these thighs.

Rieta draws her knees up and spreads them, then tips back on one hand. She tugs on my tie to draw me between her thighs, and I see the damp spot nestled against her pussy. Oh, fuck yes.

I slide a finger beneath her panties and run it up and down the wet lace. “Who’s my perfect little slut?”

---