Page 9 of His Dark Possession

His lips descend upon mine in an embrace sweeter than the one we shared during the ceremony. There is no trace of formality in the way our lips lock together; instead, there is an undeniable passion that ignites between us. He grazes his teeth along my bottom lip, sending shivers down my spine, before pulling away, his eyes ablaze with desire. “Gabriella Bianchi,” Antonio says, his words wrapping around my name with a rugged, Italian accent, “that has a nice ring to it.”

I feel his grip loosen, and suddenly he is standing beside me, holding only my hand, yet that connection is electric. The warmth of our bodies pressed together is swiftly replaced by a cool, autumn breeze filtering in through the open windows,gently rustling the curtains. I realize, with a pang of longing, that I miss the solid presence of his body against mine.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asks, his voice a rich, melodic tone that makes my heart race.

This is the most ready I have ever felt for anything in my life. Our brief but meaningful conversation has rekindled a deep sense of hope and anticipation within me. I squeeze his hand tightly in mine, my heart swelling with emotion, and nod my head in affirmation.

It’s time to start our lives together, to embrace the journey ahead with open hearts and unwavering trust.

9

ANTONIO

The Bianchi family works hard and parties harder, a mantra that resonates throughout the evening. The clock ticks on, racing toward the impending hour of 10:00 pm, each second heightening the anticipation that crackles in the air. Every conversation that Gabriella and I share with someone else sends waves of nervous energy coursing through me, igniting a sense of urgency I can hardly contain. Each dance, where we find ourselves pressed intimately against one another, only intensifies my desire, making me painfully aware of my longing. I have dedicated months to saving myself for this extraordinary woman, and the time we’ve both been waiting for is almost here. I can feel it, the connection between us, almost as tangibly as Gabriella’s warm hand enveloping mine.

After our intimate conversation in the dimly lit hallway, it dawned on me just how much there is to learn about this vibrant young woman who has captivated my heart. It’s not merely about figuring out whether she prefers her coffee strong and black or if she enjoys the thrill of passion in all its forms—hard or slow. No, my wife needs more than that; she craves tenderness and romance woven into the fabric of our relationship. Sheneeds me to take the time to uncover the hidden truths and secrets of her past, particularly those surrounding her first marriage. She is desperate for me to understand and learn from Johnston’s mistakes, to ensure that we forge a different path together.

Our future stretches out before me like an intricate roadmap, filled with possibilities and promise. I envision a year or two of wedded bliss, followed by the joyous arrival of our first child, a bundle of laughter and life. I can see us reaching our fifth anniversary, still dangerously in love, the spark between us undiminished by time. I picture her unwavering support as I take over the family business, her belief in me shining brightly even on the days I come home weary and soaked in blood from the struggles of the day. I dream of watching our children grow, witnessing them start their own lives, filled with hopes and dreams of their own. Eventually, I imagine settling into our home, finding comfort in the quiet once they’ve left the nest, cherishing the memories we’ve built. There are a thousand moments waiting for us, each one a testament to our love, and it all begins tonight.

Rafael discreetly nods his head in my direction when the clock strikes 10:00. He begins to gather people and usher them toward the entrance where the Queensridge staff eagerly distribute bubbles, each container promising a whimsical farewell. I’ve decided that instead of being pelted with rice or risking a sparkler igniting my bride’s gown in a fiery mishap, a gentle shower of bubbles would create the perfect send-off, a lighthearted celebration of our new journey together.

“You make a beautiful bride,” I tell Gabriella as we start our walk toward the exit, my heart swelling with pride and joy. “I want to remember this day forever.” I want to hold onto the goodmoments and the bad, but especially to what comes next—the chapters we will write together.

The walkway is alive with dozens of smiling faces. The parents who stayed this late with their children are doing their best to wrangle them into submission, their voices a mix of laughter and gentle reprimands. Bubbles float through the air like tiny orbs of joy, and the crowd cheers for us as we walk through this enchanting shower of love and affection being heaped upon us. My mother’s eyes glisten with tears, brimming with pride and a touch of bittersweet nostalgia. My father stands tall, a proud smile spreading across his face as he takes in the moment. My brother, despite his usual stoic demeanor, wears a genuine smile, lighting up the atmosphere with his unexpected warmth.

We take one last look back at the hall filled with familiar faces—my family, my friends, and Gabriella’s loved ones. They all appear so happy, so genuinely thrilled that we’ve found ourselves here, at this pivotal moment in our lives. Arranged marriage or not, this is precisely where I envisioned my life would lead, a beautiful beginning forged in unexpected circumstances.

I open the door of the Aston Martin that my father gifted me as a wedding present, the sleek design glinting in the fading sunlight, and help Gabriella inside. Her wedding dress is a breathtaking cascade of tulle and fabric, barely fitting in the confines of the luxurious car, as it spills elegantly onto the floor, creating a beautiful mess that seems to embody the joy of the day.

As I slide into the driver’s seat and ignite the engine, a throaty roar fills the air, and I can feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through me as my cock hardens with anticipation. The sheer power of the machinery, combined with the stunning beauty of my bride seated beside me, is more than enough to ignitemyengineand send my heart racing. “Let’s go, gorgeous,” I say, my voice laced with excitement.

It takes every ounce of restraint within me to maintain control over the car as I navigate the open road. I shatter every speed limit sign in sight and blow through stop signs without a second thought, the thrill of it all intoxicating. Keeping the speed under a hundred on the freeway feels like an impossible feat, the urge to push the accelerator further almost overpowering. Miraculously, we manage to make it home without a crash or a run-in with the police, the narrow escape feeling like a small victory.

“Your home is beautiful,” Gabriella breathes, her voice filled with genuine admiration as we pull into the expansive garage.

The house looms before us—a massive, 5,000 square foot monstrosity that my father insisted I needed, a symbol of success that gives an illusion of wealth and power. “I want this to beourhome, Gabriella,” I reply, my heart swelling with hope as we climb out of the car and head inside. We flick on lights as we move through the spacious kitchen, the glow illuminating the potential within these walls. “If you want to change anything, go ahead. Make this place your home, too.” The words hang in the air, a promise of shared dreams and new beginnings.

She gazes at everything with wide-eyed appreciation as I guide her to the bedroom on the second floor. It’s more than twice the size of an average master bedroom, with expansive windows that invite in natural light and provide a stunning view of the surrounding landscape. Complete with his and her closets that seem to stretch on forever, it also boasts an attached bathroom that is simply to die for. A luxurious 60” Jacuzzi tub sits elegantly in the corner, beckoning to anyone who enters with the promise of relaxation and indulgence. The shower, spaciousenough to fit a family of five, features sleek glass doors and shimmering tiles that sparkle under the soft lighting.

“Everything the light touches is yours,” I joke, but there’s a profound truth in my words. Everything that belongs to me is hers, and vice versa. She will have full access to my fortune, my home, and my heart. She can have anything her heart desires, and I would move mountains to see her happiness.

Gabriella stands in the center of the bedroom, her expression softening into a sentimental smile that warms my own heart. “You’ve opened up your heart and your life to me in a way that I never expected,” she says, her voice tinged with awe and gratitude. She looks down at the polished wooden floor, anxiously biting her bottom lip as she gathers her thoughts. “I don’t know how I will ever do for you what you’ve done for me,” she admits, her vulnerability palpable in the air between us.

I slip off my shoes, the soft thud against the floor barely audible, before walking around her. My hands find their way to her shoulders, kneading the knots that have formed there from the weight of the world. Gabriella leans her head back against my chest, her warmth radiating against me, and I place a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “I have spent my whole life searching for the right woman to love and cherish,” I say, my voice low and sincere. “I’m lucky that it only took thirty-seven years. Some people go their entire lives without ever finding this kind of happiness.”

As I let my hands slide down a few inches to the delicate zipper on the back of her dress, I can feel her breath hitch in anticipation. Gabriella makes a soft groaning noise, a sweet sound of surrender, as my fingers caress her skin. “Let yourself feel my hands on your skin. Delight in every ounce of pleasure I give you,” I whisper, my heart racing with excitement. “This isonly the first night of thousands where I will show you just how much I love you.”

With a gentle tug, the dress falls away, pooling on the floor and revealing the intricate white lace undergarments beneath. The delicate fabric is a stark contrast to her soft, olive-colored skin, accentuating her beauty in a way that takes my breath away. As I unhook the eyelets of her bra, it joins the discarded dress, and I run my fingers along the small indentation made by the underwire, marveling at the way her body responds to my touch.

Gabriella rests her weight against me, eyes closed, lost in the sensations that wash over her. I brush my thumb across her nipple, feeling it pebble under my touch, a testament to her desire. She has perfect breasts, just the right amount to fit in my grasp, and I can’t help but knead one roughly, my fingers dancing over her soft skin, while my free hand drops to her panties, eager to explore further.

“I want you to be uninhibited with me, Gabriella. Scream as loud as you want. Demand what you want.” I slip my fingers beneath the delicate fabric of her panties, searching for her most sensitive spot, that little button of pleasure. Gabriella’s breath hitches, a sweet sound that ignites a fire within me when I finally find it. “You are my queen, my only love.”

The heat of my hardness presses insistently against her ass, a reminder of the six long months without sex that have left me yearning for her. Every second of restraint intensifies my desire, making me want to slam into her this very moment. But I force myself to linger, to keep toying with her clit, coaxing soft moans from her lips. Tonight is all about her; she needs to understand that our pleasure intertwines, a shared experience of ecstasy.

“Do you feel that?” I thrust against her ass, emphasizing my need. “That’s how hard you make me. I’m hot for you, Gabriella Bianchi.” Just uttering her name alongside mine sends a rush of desire coursing through me, almost enough to push me over the edge.

I circle and tease her clit, feeling her body respond eagerly, pushing back against me with equal fervor. Gabriella whimpers, a beautiful sound that tells me she’s drawing closer to her climax. I can sense her wet heat, the dampness of her panties increasing with every passing moment, a testament to her arousal.

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