Page 113 of Of Grief And Gratitude

She and Mia had planned our wedding in less than a month. It was a beautiful Saturday in June, and cars lined the blocks surrounding the church. We’d decided to keep the ceremony small, but that still meant over a hundred guests, with Irish and Italian families attending. I watched people file into the church from where I stood at the window in the room the men used to get ready.

Riona was on the other side of the church because the little old ladies in the families insisted I couldn’t see her before the ceremony or it would curse our marriage. It was a good thing I wasn’t superstitious. I left the window and opened the door, peering down the hallway to ensure the coast was clear before making my way around the building to the hall where the women were dressing. I hoped I’d make it close enough that her bridesmaids would be busy with other tasks. What I had in mind didn’t require an audience.

I felt like a spy sneaking through the church in my black tuxedo and peeking around corners to see if anybody was around. Tapping on one of the doors, I waited as I heard voices inside. Multiple. Damn.

Bianca appeared at the opening of the door. She scowled. “What are you doing?”

“Is Riona inside?” I asked, trying to see around her.

She stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her. “No, she’s in the next room over. You might not make it to the altar if anybody catches you.”

“Give me a little more credit than that.” I smirked and straightened my jacket. “I know the doors have locks. We’ll be fine.”

“You’re awful, do you know that?” Bianca shook her head, trying to hide her smile. “I hope you’re as good as your followers think because you don’t have much time.”

“I’m not falling into a joke about speed,” I said drily. I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and turned to the next door down. “Thanks, principessa.”

It took longer for Riona to open her door when I knocked. She wore a sleek, silky white gown. A sheer white lace overlay covered the gown and her bare arms, disguising the scar that still bothered her.

“Mia fiamma,” I purred, walking her back into the room and locking the door behind us.

She giggled as I dipped my head to kiss her neck. It was too tempting to resist with her hair piled on top of her head in brilliant red curls.

“Romeo, you have to stop.” Riona turned her head, and I moved my lips down, biting where her neck and shoulder met. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yes, that’s the idea.”

“No, seriously.” She pulled away, panting, her face flushed red. “You’re going to ruin my hair and makeup. I refuse to walk down the hall looking freshly fucked.”

“See, I very much want that.” I grinned and brushed my thumb over her pebbled nipple. “It seems like you’re good to go, too.”

Riona’s eyes darted to the door. “I don’t know.”

I pulled my surprise out of my pocket. “I brought the camera.”

“Not here!” She snatched it from my hand and set it on the table behind her. “This is a church!”

I snickered. “That makes it more fun. Come on. I promise to make you come. Give me five minutes.”

Riona shook her head and wrung her hands in front of her. She sighed. “Fine. Five minutes. And I get to come first.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I reached behind her and flipped the camera on, checking to make sure we were both in the shot as I simplified my striptease. Riona’s mouth dropped open as I bared my chest, her breathing rapid. “I bet you’re so wet for me right now. I can’t wait to get inside you. You want my cock, mia fiamma?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “So help me, yes. Lightning is going to strike me down.”

I loosened my belt and unfastened my pants, toying with the zipper before turning around and toeing my shoes off. She whimpered when I dropped my pants to the floor and stepped out of them, then giggled when I flexed.

“Those are going to wrinkle, you know,” Riona admonished, prompting me to lay the discarded pants over a nearby chair. She had a point.

I smiled mischievously, linking my fingers behind my head and turning around, gyrating and making my cock dance for her.

Riona looked down and burst into a fit of giggles, doubling over. “The bowtie!”

I waggled my dick again. “It’s a special occasion. If I’m dressing up, all of me is dressing up. I figured if you appreciated it the first time, you’d like it now.”

“It’s perfect.” She advanced on me, reaching down to stroke me. When she tried to lower herself to her knees, I hooked my hand under her arm and stopped her. “If you do that, I’m going to fuck up that pretty hair while I fuck your throat.”

“Good point.” She straightened and looked around the room.

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