Page 93 of Ruined in Vows

Dropping down, I inspect her cunt closely, like I’m her own personal gyno. “Making sure it all stays inside.” I push my fingers, covered in our juices, into her, before pulling them out, darting my tongue out and licking up her slit.

“Dante, stop. I need to shower before you eat me out,” she cries, her legs trying to close, and no doubt horrified that I am cleaning her with my tongue.

Gripping her thighs, I push them wide, keeping her spread wide open for me. “No. I want to taste your pussy now. After I just fucked you,” I grunt, leaving no room for argument.

Sighing, she relaxes back. “This is gross and so unhygienic. You are licking up my blood.” She groans, horrified.

Smirking, I glance up at her. “With your cunt full of my come, and your virgin blood from where I tore into your cunt. You have never tasted better, principessa.”

“I can’t deny it feels good, soothing after you stretched me to my limits,” she admits.

“Exactly. Now angel, let me do what I was put on this earth to do and look after you.”

Chapter 53

Allegra

Climbing into the back of the SUV, I take a seat as Mamma slides in beside me. All the while I try to ignore the look of pity and concern on her face. My nerves are frazzled, heart pounding at an abnormal rhythm.

Emotion grips me like a vise, and I feel physically sick at what I am about to do.

Alessio climbs in after her, closing the door behind him and sealing my fate.

Glancing forward, I find Gio in the driver’s seat while Dario occupies the passenger seat. Chewing my bottom lip, I once more wonder why Nico, along with Matteo, insisted on getting to the church ahead of me. It doesn’t make sense, considering Nico is walking me down the aisle. But as always, he issued his orders, knowing full well we would do his bidding. He demanded we meet him at the church and that is what we will do.

My husband’s heartbroken, albeit thoughtful face as I walked out of the suite will haunt me until the day I die. It took every bit of self-control in me not to turn around, run into his arms, and never let him go.

Regardless of what I want, I had to remind myself that it is too late to back out now. I am in way too deep, with no way out.My father got me into this mess, but I’m the one that sealed my fate, delivered myself on a silver platter, too caught up in my grief to really understand the implications of what I was doing. Now I must see it through.

Over and over, I reassured Dante that no matter what happens, I will not willingly give Riccardo my body. With my words, I expected his anger, even smashing up the suite; he would be more than in his right to do so. So, his thoughtful nod, as he held me tighter to him, whispering words of love, more than confused me. As a matter of fact, just thinking about the interaction with my husband, as I replay it in my mind, has my brows furrowing in confusion and questions springing to mind.

And now that I think about it, both Dante and Nico have been very blasé about this wedding. Surely, they wouldn’t be this calm if they really thought it was going to happen... Or are they just resigned to the fact that there is no way out for me?

Pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers, my mind goes into overdrive, heart jumping with the what-ifs.

Mamma’s soft voice startles me from my reverie. Releasing my nose, I turn to look at her. She smiles softly, taking my hands in hers and rubbing my knuckles gently.

“Mia figlia. I am so proud of you and the woman you have become,” she starts, her eyes filling with tears. “Had I known your papà’s intentions I would have never allowed this arrangement to happen. I would have fought him on it, every step of the way. I will never forgive myself for not stepping in before it even became a thing,” she chokes out.

Before I can comfort her, two big hands cup her cheeks, pulling her attention to Alessio. Leaning forward, I see Mamma’s eyes snap to his, longing, and something else I can’t quite decipher in them. I shift uncomfortably, feeling like I’m intruding on something.

“It is not your fault, and I will not have you blaming yourself,” he murmurs, softly but sternly.

Mamma blushes, her eyes shifting to me before moving back to Alessio. She pulls back, making his hands drop from her face. Clearing her throat, she focuses on me, ignoring Alessio. I glance over at him, my heart sinking when I see the dejection at her rejection clearly written all over his face. How I wish Mamma would get her head out of her ass and see him for the amazing man he is. With determination, I make a mental note to talk to her about it once this farce is over.

“I love you, honey. You deserve all the good in life and I know with certainty that one day it will all be yours,” she continues. And I want to throw the words back in her face, tell her she too deserves to be happy. But now is not the time.

“I love you, too, Mamma,” I say honestly, choosing to ignore her other words, my smile tight. I want to believe everything will work out, but until it does, I need to go into this with a realistic mind.

She nods, her eyes trailing to Alessio one more before she faces the front. We sit in silence, the traffic heavy as we make our way the small distance to the church. The further we get from the hotel where my husband is holed up, the duller my heartbeats, and the tighter my throat gets.

Though I tell myself to breathe, to try and relax, my anxiety begins to boil over, gripping my body in a chokehold and threatening to pull me under.

Dropping my head into my lap, not bothered about getting make up on my dress, I try breathing exercises, but it’s no use. The anxiety attack has taken hold, and I feel like I might black out.

“Sweetheart?” Mamma sounds distant, through the fog clouding my sight and sound. “Allegra?” She grabs my shoulders a little harshly, pulling me upright.

Tears stream down my face, my head shaking from side to side when I meet her worried stare. “I–” I choke out, but the rest of the words get caught in my throat.

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