Claiming His Wedding Night Consequence

by Abby Green

  Chiara’s bare breasts felt full and heavy. Nipples tight and stinging. Nico reached out a hand and cupped one full weight in his hand and little beads of sweat broke out on Chiara’s brow.

  He shook his head, as if dazed. ‘I want to see all of you.’

  Chiara put her hands to the dress, where it hung precariously on her hips, and pushed so that it fell down. Now she wore just her panties.

  Nico’s hand dropped to his side and Chiara saw him curl both hands into fists, as if to stop himself from reaching out again.

  He said, ‘I never thought a woman like you could exist.’

  Intense self-consciousness flooded Chiara and she brought her arms up to cover her chest and between her legs. ‘I’m too big—’

  Immediately he stepped forward and took them down, saying, ‘No. You are beautiful. You embody pure sensuality, Chiara.’

  She kept her gaze lowered, feeling even more self-conscious now—because she was practically naked while he was still fully clothed.

  As if reading her mind, Nico took his hands from her again and started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Now it was her turn to look as bit by bit his chest was revealed, broad and powerful, with a smattering of dark hair that led in a line down his flat muscled abdomen and underneath his belt.

  His hands were there now, and he undid his belt and trousers. With an economy of movement he pushed them down, taking his underwear with them. She sucked in a breath, taking in the majestic power of his aroused body, rising proudly from the dark curling hair between his legs. Her mouth watered and she wanted to taste him. It shocked her how carnal she felt. And, how right it felt.

  ‘Chiara...don’t look at me like that.’

  She looked up, her face burning. He smiled and there was a falling sensation in her tummy—he’d never really smiled at her before.

  ‘I won’t last if you look at me like that.’

  Oh.

  He took her hand to lead her to the bed behind them and she stepped out of the dress which had pooled on the ground in a mound of silk and lace.

  She desperately resisted the urge to believe this moment was special, but it felt significant. She was about to give herself unhesitatingly to a man who had swept into her life and turned it upside down in the space of a week. A man who had behaved in an unbearably ruthless manner but who had shown her that there was something running deep under the surface.

  There was more to Nicolo Santo Domenico—Chiara knew it.

  He laid her down on the bed and looked at her for a long moment. Then he came down beside her. She desperately wanted to explore his body but she didn’t have the nerve. Any anyway he robbed her brain of any power to think when he started to touch her, saying, ‘I want to explore every bit of you, taste you...’

  He encouraged her to lie back and do nothing as he proceeded to do just that. He started with her mouth, drugging her with deep kisses, while his hand explored her breast and pinched her nipple, making her turn to liquid and squirm against him, silently pleading for more.

  Then he moved down, taking his time, teasing her until her nerves were screaming and she was begging for mercy. When he finally surrounded her nipple with his mouth and sucked it into the hot wet cavern she screamed.

  His hand moved down, over her belly and to the juncture between her legs. He pushed them apart with gentle force and Chiara held her breath. He lifted his head and watched her as his fingers explored the place where she ached the most.

  She turned away, embarrassed at how turned-on she was, but Nico turned her back to face him as his fingers explored all the way into the heart of her, where she was hot and wet.

  ‘You are so ready for me... It’s incredibly sexy, cara. And it’s the same for me.’

  He took her hand and wrapped it around him, exactly as she’d wanted to do herself before. She was awed by the feel of him, steely strong and covered with hot silky skin. He felt so vulnerable and yet never more powerful.

  ‘I need you now.’

  She looked at him and the moonlight glazed his features with a silvery hue. His expression was stark. She nodded her head and he moved over her body, pushing her legs further apart with his thighs.

  She could feel him press against her and had an urge to push her hips up, instinctively seeking that deeper union. He huffed out what sounded like a tortured chuckle, and once again she was struck by this lighter version of Nicolo Santo Domenico and how he made her heart swell dangerously.

  He put a hand under her buttocks, angling her up towards him. She was totally at his mercy, and yet she had never felt more powerful than right at this moment. She trusted him implicitly. It came from deep inside her.

  And then, with a surge of his body against hers, he thrust deep inside her. Her body bowed in shock and awe at the intrusion. There was a moment of red-hot pain and tears stung her eyes.

  He stopped and looked down, the shock she felt mirrored on his face, ‘Chiara? You’re a...virgin?’

  She nodded miserably, all her self-confidence draining away. She fully expected Nico to pull back, disengage, look at her with disgust. But he didn’t. Instead something ferocious lit up his expression and he put a hand between them, his fingers touching the point where their bodies met.

  ‘Bear with me, cara, it won’t hurt for much longer. Trust me.’

  She held her breath as Nico started to move again, slowly this time. His fingers moved against her, making her feel something besides pain and discomfort—a burgeoning pleasure.

  And then, miraculously, the pain diminished and the glide of his body in and out of hers took on an ease that hadn’t been there before. She could feel her body adapting to his and a whole new set of sensations took over. Aligning them. Making her seek a deeper connection.

  Instinct took over. This was an age-old dance and Chiara found herself succumbing to its rhythm. She wrapped her legs around Nico’s hips and felt him slide deeper. She silently urged him to go harder, faster, as tension mounted in her body and begged for release.

  He was remorseless, though, refusing to give in to her demands, eking out her pleasure, until Chiara had to bite into his shoulder to stop herself begging out loud.

  And then something snapped inside him...some control he’d been clinging on to—for her benefit? The thought was too fleeting to hang on to because Chiara got a sense of how restrained he’d been when his movements became wilder and less controlled, pushing her higher and higher. Finally she climbed to the top of the peak and her whole body tautened like a bow against his for a long, infinitesimal moment, until finally she fell over the edge and into a sea of pleasure more exquisite than she’d ever known, so exquisite that she never wanted it to stop.

  Nico’s huge body went still and she felt the rush of his release deep inside her—she was too stunned to consider what that meant. He sank over her, deep shudders racking his body, and she could feel her own body still pulsating, milking every last ounce of pleasure from him.

  * * *

  Nico stood under the pounding shower spray as dawn spread across the sky outside the bathroom window. His body felt wrung out. Weakened from an overload of pleasure.

  He braced his hands on the wall, bending his head against the sluicing water as if it might wash away the memory of how completely he’d lost it.

  She’d been a virgin. A virgin. Nico had never made love to a virgin before—not even when he’d been one himself.

  And, to Nico’s disgust, his first reaction had been one of very carnal male satisfaction. To know that he was the only man she’d known intimately. To be the first man to wring that unbelievably sensual response from her lush body. To be the first to see her orgasm and feel the contraction of those tight muscles around his—

  Dio. He cursed again.

  He could still see the look of wonderment on her face after they’d made love. It had taken him completely unawares. He was
used to women feigning emotion, not really feeling it. It had to have been because she was innocent. She wasn’t like his other lovers. World-weary and jaded. Cynical.

  Never in a million years had he imagined that the attraction he felt for Chiara would be so all-consuming and intense. To the point where he hadn’t even thought of protection. Something he’d never failed to do with any other lover.

  But she’s your wife.

  That might be so, Nico thought grimly, and he had fully intended theirs to be a marriage that would produce heirs. It was part of his plan. He’d told her that. But he’d also promised to honour the six-month trial period. Even he had thought that wasn’t such a bad idea.

  But any kind of coherent rational thinking had gone up in flames as soon as he’d seen her naked body.

  He tried to curtail the resurgence of desire just from thinking of her. He reassured himself that it was highly unlikely that one night would have got Chiara pregnant. And next time he wouldn’t forget.

  Next time.

  His body reacted forcibly to the thought of introducing his very innocent Sicilian wife to all the pleasures lovemaking had to offer and he cursed through gritted teeth as a slew of X-rated images flooded his brain.

  He switched the water to cold.

  * * *

  When Chiara woke it was bright. She could feel a soft cool breeze skating over her skin. The window must be open. She felt incredibly...at peace. Sated in a way she’d never felt before. Even though when she moved experimentally her body ached all over. But not with pain. With remembered pleasure.

  And then it all came rushing back—every Technicolor moment of her awakening. She looked round but she knew she was alone in the bed. The sheets were creased. She saw her wedding dress draped carefully over a chair. Nico must have done that, because she certainly hadn’t given it a thought last night. All too eager to strip off.

  She pulled the sheet over her face for a moment, groaning softly. Who had she been last night? A total wanton. A sensualist in training. No inhibitions—or too few to mention.

  After that first time Nico had only had to touch her for her to be eager to experience that extreme pleasure again. She had a vivid memory of him moving down her body, pushing her legs apart and putting his mouth on her there.

  She pulled the sheet down from her face and blinked, trying to will away the rush of heat sweeping up through her body, which was still tender. And yet she knew if he was here right now, looking at her and touching her, she’d probably give in all over again.

  Where was he?

  She sat up, the sheet falling away from her body. She looked down and could see marks on her breasts. Faint and pink. Evidence of his touch. Mortified, Chiara scrambled from the bed and found a robe to pull on. She belted it tightly and made her way downstairs.

  Spiro appeared at the bottom of the stairs, tail wagging. She patted him on the head. There was no sign of Nico in the main rooms or in her father’s old office, which she presumed he would take over.

  She found him in the massive kitchen. He was dressed in dark trousers and a light shirt, and he was drinking coffee and reading something on a tablet. Chiara felt a rush of self-consciousness as she stood in the doorway.

  He glanced up and saw her, and indicated with his head towards the stove. ‘I made fresh coffee.’

  He looked back down at his tablet again. ‘The first thing we’ll have to take care of here is the WiFi—it’s ridiculously slow. And then we need to hire staff. A housekeeper and a maintenance person to start with.’

  A lead weight sank into Chiara’s belly. She’d had no idea what to expect the morning after a night such as she’d just experienced, but it wasn’t this: Nico speaking to her as if she was some kind of assistant, not the woman he’d made love to all night with an ardour that had made her feel—

  She slammed a lid down on that thought, terrified that it might show on her face. She shouldn’t be feeling anything.

  But you are, whispered a little voice.

  Chiara walked into the kitchen, acutely aware of her naked body under the robe while Nico was fully dressed. She needn’t have worried, though, because he wasn’t looking at her. She poured herself some coffee and brought it over to the table, sitting down at the opposite end to her husband.

  He was pristine and cool. A million miles from the passionate lover of last night. He looked up at her and finally something seemed to register.

  He put down the tablet. ‘How are you this morning?’

  Solicitous. Impersonal.

  Chiara struggled to keep her frayed emotions in check and to be as cool as him. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  ‘Bene.’ Nico stood up. ‘I’ve made a change in my plans. I’m going to go to Rome today for some meetings and I’ll go to New York next week instead.’

  Chiara put down the cup, a tiny spurt of excitement making her pulse jump. ‘Will I be coming with you?’

  He frowned. ‘Why would you come with me for business? No, you’ll stay here unless there’s a social function that requires your attendance. There will be enough for you to do, preparing the castello for its refurbishment.’

  The spurt of excitement sputtered, but a tiny flickering flame of hope refused to die. She said, ‘I thought...after last night...that perhaps our marriage might not be so...businesslike.’

  Nico’s face was unreadable. ‘You were a virgin, cara, it’s natural for you to confuse lust with emotion. I married you for the castello, and because I need a wife and heirs. Nothing has changed in that regard.’

  Oh, God. She thought of the things he’d told her about fulfilling his father’s dying wish and how the castello had felt like home. Meaningless platitudes. Humiliation was immediate and acrid in Chiara’s gut.

  She went cold as the true enormity of her naivety sank in. What for her had been a deeply transformative experience evidently hadn’t been anything of the sort for Nico. How could it have been? She’d been a virgin.

  Then something else struck her and she went even colder. She stood up, barely aware of the clatter of her chair on the stone floor. ‘We didn’t use anything...protection.’ It hit her—she could be pregnant right now.

  Something flashed across Nico’s face. He said heavily, ‘I know.’

  Panic gripped Chiara, twisting her insides. ‘You did it on purpose—you took advantage of my inexperience so that you could try and get me pregnant.’

  Nico’s face tightened. ‘Your opinion of me isn’t very high.’

  Chiara waved a hand. ‘Can you blame me? All I’ve seen is evidence of how ruthless you are. But even I hadn’t considered you could be this ruthless.’ She could feel hysteria building and had to breathe to calm herself.

  Nico started towards her and then he stopped. Colour slashed across his cheeks and to Chiara’s eternal shame, in spite of her anger and humiliation, she could feel her body yearning for his again.

  ‘Last night... I wasn’t thinking clearly. Of course I didn’t intend for you to get pregnant. But as we are married, and I told you part of our deal was having heirs, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?’

  Yes, it would, thought Chiara. Because even though she knew she would feel a fierce love and protectiveness for her baby, she didn’t want it to happen like this. In a confusing blur of lust and mindlessness. She hadn’t intended for that to happen at all! And yet it had...

  She said starkly, ‘Last night was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘I never lied to you about wanting a real and practical marriage, Chiara.’

  She backed away from the table, thinking of all the emotions that had been flowing through her the previous night. Thinking of how she’d felt when she’d woken. At peace. Sated. Optimistic.

  Her grand plan that he would be in New York by now, realising what a mistake he’d made, lay in tatters at her feet. Thanks to her
weakness and susceptibility. Her deep-seated wish to believe in some romantic fantasy.

  ‘I should never have agreed to this marriage. It was a mistake.’ Feeling desperate, she added, ‘I want an annulment.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s too late. The marriage is consummated.’

  Chiara’s gut churned as suspicion turned to certainty. ‘You seduced me on purpose.’

  Of course he had! He was ruthless enough to cover all the bases. All he’d had to do was compliment her once or twice, make her feel as if she was the only woman on the planet, and she’d melted in a puddle at his feet. He’d played her like a fiddle, and her virginity had made it so much easier.

  His expression was closed off. ‘I seduced you because I wanted you.’

  Chiara emitted a semi-hysterical laugh. ‘Conveniently enough on our wedding night.’

  And without using protection!

  Nico picked up his tablet. ‘My plane is waiting to take me to Rome. We can continue this discussion later.’

  When he would undoubtedly try to seduce her again?

  Chiara mocked herself. He wouldn’t have to try. If he so much as touched her she’d go up in flames.

  He started to leave the kitchen and then he turned to face her. ‘Chiara, there will be many more benefits to this marriage than most. We are under no illusions about feelings and we both share a love for this castello and want to see it restored. The fact that we have chemistry is a bonus and will make this easier.’

  And then he was gone.

  Chiara heard the faint roar of an engine throttle and then silence. She sat down heavily in the chair and stared into the space he’d just left unseeingly.

  She couldn’t believe she’d been so utterly naive. And yet how had her life in the castello, being sheltered and overprotected, ever prepared her for something like this? For a man like Nicolo Santo Domenico?

  She had to face the very stark fact that she’d merely replaced her parents as gatekeepers with her new husband, who clearly had no intention of letting her have a life outside the castello.