Page 49 of The Don's Soulmate

“I always wanted full sleeves and a tulle skirt,” I tell him, revealing a bit of who I am.

“I will try to make a few adjustments, my dear,” the tailor says, leaning forward and squeezing my hands. “Just a few changes that Ugo Caputo might tolerate. But there’s nothing more I can do.”

“Thank you. Please, add a veil,” I whisper.

He nods, wiping away a tear. Though the tailor has seen many brides, I doubt he’s encountered one with a story as tragic as mine.

“A long one,” I add. I don’t want to see Caputo’s dreadful face when I walk down the aisle.

That night, sleep comes fitfully, my dreams haunted by the spectacle that is my impending marriage.

Ugo pulls me out of the car roughly, his hands all over me as I scream and beg to go back home. His rips at my wedding gown and says something about how he’s going to have me naked soon enough. He commands his men to carry me to his bedroom, all while I scream and fight. Halfway through the door to his house with large hands roughing me up, I hear gunshots.

Suddenly, around me lie dead bodies. Ugo has blood coming out of his ears, eyes, mouth. He’s gone.

Just when I think I’m free at last the dream brings another my way. I find myself bound, wrists tied tightly above my head, lying on a bed, utterly helpless. But Ugo is dead! Who has me captive now?

A shadowy man approaches, his face obscured by the darkness. He runs a finger lightly along my collarbone, causing me to shudder at the unexpected contact. His touch is both gentle and possessive, as if he's claiming me for his own.

"Who are you?" I whisper, my voice trembling with fear and desire.

"Your darkest fantasy... your forbidden pleasure," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. He trails kisses down my neck, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. It’s from his touch that I know him - my faceless stranger.

“I’m the one who’s going to rip that dress off you,” he slides his hands down the sides of my breasts to clench at my waist, the thin satin fabric smooth under his touch.

I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel his gaze on my skin that shines through my skimpy wedding dress. The white hugs my figure so tightly that I can barely breathe. Thin straps threaten to tear at a mere whisper, a cowl neck cut so low, one wrong move will free my breasts.

I’m naked beneath the tight dress, and petrified from having no control because of how he has me tied up.

“Please,” I wonder if he might let me go. Instead, he pinches into my waist. I dig my hips into the bed, afraid if I lurch, my dress will ride up.

He continues to explore my body, setting my nerves alight with anticipation. My mind screams that this is wrong, while my body aches for more of his tantalizing touch.

His hands travel up my thighs and slide in under my dress. I try to move away, to keep him from discovering my nakedness, but the ropes hold me in place.

He reaches the apex of my thighs, and I can hear the excitement in his voice. "You’re eager to play, greedy girl." He slides a finger through my slick folds, circling the swollen nub at the apex.

I try not to let my arousal show, but at the feel of his fingers I moan. My sex cries out for more of his touch even as my mind screams for me to resist.

His fingers dip inside me, pushing past my tight entrance. First, two fingers slide in, stretching me slowly.

“You belong to me,” he growls.

"Please..." I surrender to the overwhelming sensations.

"Tell me you want it, Carlotta," he growls, his voice rough with desire.

"Yes," I gasp, my heart pounding in my chest. "I want it. I need it. Please..."

With that, he thrusts a third finger inside me, this time hard and fast.. I cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure warring in my soul. It all feels too much. I writhe against the restraints, wanting to run my fingers through his hair, to guide him to be gentle.

“No,” I speak out at last, opening my eyes. “Slower, please,” I gasp, breathless.

He stops, and for a moment I believe he’ll let me dictate the pace.How wrong I am.

He grips my chin and kisses me so hot and fierce. When he pulls away, I’m panting, and he takes that moment to shove a ball gag in my mouth.

I swallow hard, my throat dry and my heart pounding in my chest. I'm at his mercy, unable to speak, and no-one to hear me if I could.Struggling against the restraints, I try to calm myself, taking deep breaths around the gag.

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