by Bianca Cole
He sets it in front of me.
“Milo, I can’t eat this. I’m a vegetarian.”
He seems surprised that I say his name, eyes wide. “It’s sir to you.” He moves the plate to his setting and then grabs another platter off the trolley and places it in front of me. “Your father didn’t make me aware of your dietary needs, so dessert will have to be your only course.”
I lift the lid on the platter, and my stomach rumbles at the sight of a gooey chocolate dessert. I’m a chocoholic, so I’m not going to complain about chocolate for dinner. Not to mention, I’ve hardly got an appetite after everything I’ve been through in the past twenty-four hours. I’m exhausted and want to sleep.
Milo cuts into the rare steak, spilling blood all over his plate. The sight of it makes my stomach churn at how rare it is. My father loves steak, but I’ve never seen anyone eat it this raw, other than carpaccio, but that’s thin slices, not the huge fillet he’s tucking into. A heavy, awkward silence falls between us as I pick at my chocolate dessert.
I hate silence, but I’ve got too much pride to try to talk to him, knowing he will ignore me anyway. Milo clears his throat. “Your father has sent the rest of your possessions by boat. They might be here in about two weeks. If there is anything you need, please let Olivia know. She will be looking after you.” He doesn’t look at me while he speaks, keeping his eyes on his steak.
“I’ve got everything I need,” I say, spooning the dessert into my mouth.
Milo’s jaw clenches at my response. “How about for the wedding?”
My stomach churns at the mention of our wedding. “What about it?”
He sets down his knife and fork with a clang and levels his ice blue gaze on me. “Do you have everything you need? It’s in four days.”
My heart skips a beat. “Why so soon?”
His brow furrows. “Surely your father made you aware of the wedding date?”
I shake my head. “He told me nothing. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he drugged me, put me on a plane to Boston with no other information than I will be marrying Milo Mazzeo.”
An evil glint ignites in his eyes. “Your father is more ruthless than I could have imagined.” He sounds unnervingly happy about it. “That’s cold-hearted. Especially since this wedding date has been secured for two months now.”
Two months? I drop my spoon and stare at him in shock. “Are you fucking joking?”
Milo looks at me with a disinterested gaze. “Don’t take your frustration out on me. I wasn’t the one who didn’t tell you for two months.” He shrugs. “I thought it a little odd that your father didn’t bring you to meet me sooner.”
I feel a pain clutch around my heart, learning my father spent the last two months looking me in the eye and acting like everything was fine. All the while, he had sold me off to a man so cruel that his first impression on me was to spend a forty-minute car journey in silence before beating my ass.
“You’re both as terrible as each other,” I murmur.
He narrows his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”
I laugh at that. “Everyone knows about you, Milo.”
He grits his teeth, eyes blazing with a rage that scares me. “Don’t call me Milo,” he says through gritted teeth.
I should back off, but instead, I raise a brow. “It’s your name. What do you expect me to call you?”
He stands from his chair, making me jump.
I watch him like a hawk, knowing that this man has the power to hurt me in ways I can hardly imagine. A shiver races down the center of my spine as he walks behind me. It’s impossible to remain relaxed, but I don’t look as it would give him too much satisfaction. Instead, I keep my head forward, keeping calm.
He grabs my hair hard, yanking my neck right back. Milo looms over me, trying to assert his dominance over me. I always knew that this would be anything but easy between us, but his desire to overpower me in every way is one I hadn’t anticipated.
His ice-blue eyes are so cold as he stares down at me. “You will call me two names only, depending on what setting we’re in.” Every word he says is laced with a threat. “When we are around others, you will call me sir. Let me hear you say it.”
I glare up at him, keeping my mouth shut.
Milo grabs my throat with his other hand, squeezing so hard I can barely breathe. “Let me hear you say it,” he says slowly.
My pride is on the line, but as it feels like he might choke the life out of me, I struggle to spit out the word. “Sir.”
He releases my throat and nods. “Good. Next time, don’t hesitate.” He keeps his hand tight around my hair. “Whenever we are alone, I want you to call me daddy.”
I swallow hard, an odd sensation pulsing to life between my thighs. Weirdly, the prospect of calling this cruel, dominant man daddy affects me. My inexperience is going to make dealing with Milo complicated.
“Let me hear you say it, princess,” he purrs in a deep tone that makes my insides churn.
I can feel my cheeks blazing hot as I stare into his unforgiving eyes. Now I’m not defying him out of pride. I can’t bring myself to call him daddy. It’s too intimate and personal. The kind of nickname a woman calls a man who protects and cares for her. Milo is the polar opposite.
“I want to hear you say it, Aida. Don’t make me ask a third time.” His other hand teases over my throat, warning me that he will block my airways if I don’t say it.
I bite my lip, wishing I didn’t have to call him it. “Daddy,” I say quietly.
He yanks my hair harder. “Say it louder.”
Fuck.
This man is well on his way to making me hate him more than anyone I’ve ever met in record time, and I’ve met some real assholes. “Daddy,” I say louder.
He growls like a beast above me, grabbing my arm and pulling me forcefully out of my chair. “Good girl, now it’s time for me to show you what that means.”
I yank my arm from him and shake my head. “I’m not some doll you can throw around.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m a human being with rights, and before you tell me I don’t have any, that’s bullshit.”
A cruel smirk curls onto his lips. “In my world, you don’t.” He grabs my wrist again and pushes me hard against the edge of the table, bending me over it.
I try to fight, but he’s too strong for me.
“Time for daddy to taste his purchase,” he murmurs behind me, pulling up the skirt of my dress.
“No, don’t you dare,” I reply.
He ignores me and pulls my panties down to my knees, leaving me bare.
The heat that spreads through me is a mix of sheer embarrassment and red-hot rage. “I said no. Don’t you understand that word?”
Milo leans down over my body, biting the lobe of my ear. “That word is useless here, angel.”
A shiver races down my spine as I realize I have no way of stopping him. I’m powerless and at his mercy. A fact that should scare me, but instead, it excites me a little.
It sickens me that I’m so easily turned on. I should have fucked Rinaldo, the boy I had a crush on for years when I had the chance. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so easily wound up by Milo’s cruel touch.
Rinaldo was a boy, but Milo is a man. A surprisingly handsome man considering how ugly he is on the inside.
I feel his fingers teasing at the sensitive flesh between my thighs, and it sets me ablaze. No man has ever touched me. It’s ridiculous how good it feels, especially since Milo doesn’t care what I want. “Stop,” I say, trying to break free from the tie he has tied around my wrists. “I don’t want you to—”
He spanks my ass so hard I stop mid-sentence. “Liars get spanked. Your cunt is practically dripping for me. You want everything I’m giving to you and more.” Before I can reply, I feel his face between my thighs as his tongue dips inside of the most intimate part of me.
“What the fuck are you—”
He spanks my ass so hard I yelp and then continues to devour me l
ike a beast. Every nerve ending in my body lights on fire as he relentlessly dips his tongue in and out of me. All thoughts escape me the moment he drags his tongue to my clit and licks me there over and over, pushing me toward release.
Milo parts my ass cheeks and then thrusts his finger deep inside of me. “So fucking wet,” Milo growls behind me like an animal. “I know how much you want me.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t,” I respond, earning myself a thrilling spank that should hurt but only heightens my pleasure.
Milo hooks his fingers deep inside of me, hitting the spot that lights me up. I bite my lip, stopping myself from moaning out loud. It would give this asshole too much satisfaction.
He digs his fingertips hard into my ass and licks me in the most intimate spot possible. I tense, wishing I could get away, but I’m trapped. His tongue probes at my back hole, and it’s so dirty.
I grit my teeth. Everything this man is doing to me feels excruciatingly good. It’s a struggle not to moan.
Milo spanks my ass again, and it’s almost impossible not to squeal. I bite my bottom lip, feeling irritated that I made any sound at all.
“Your futile attempts to keep quiet have been undermined by your unnaturally heavy breathing.” He spanks my ass again, increasing the unwanted pleasure he has invoked deep inside of me. “Now come for daddy,” he growls, thrusting his fingers back inside of me and licking my throbbing clit in a way that sends me right over the edge.
No matter how much I try to fight it, I can’t. My moans and whimpers frustrate me as much as the man plundering me with his fingers and licking me even as I come undone on his command.
It’s embarrassing how easily he turned me into a moaning whore. Milo is the first man to touch me in such an intimate way, and I hate him for it.
6
Milo
“Are you ready, sir?” Olivia asks, lingering at the entrance to my study.
It’s ten o’clock in the morning as I knock back a glass of scotch. I’m going to need it to get through today. My wedding. A day that I never thought I’d have to endure. It’s a small price to pay since the business deal with Fabio Alteri will almost double our revenue.
“Almost. Is the car ready?” I ask, not looking at my housekeeper.
Olivia clears her throat. “Yes, James has already gone ahead with your bride, but Piero is driving you today.”
I turn at that and narrow my eyes. “Under whose orders?”
Olivia pales. “Piero suggested that due to the length of Miss. Alteri’s wedding dress that it was more practical for her to take the limousine, sir.”
I grunt and wave my hand. “Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
She doesn’t need to be asked as she leaves me in peace. I stare relentlessly at the family portrait my father had painted of us when I was a little boy.
Four days have passed since I met the woman I’m going to marry. Four days since I spanked her ass and made her come bent over my dining table. I haven’t seen her again since our dinner together when things got out of hand. Olivia has looked after her, as I couldn’t trust myself near her again until we are married.
There’s a code we are supposed to abide by when it comes to an arranged marriage. Although I’m sure Fabio wouldn’t give two shits if I fucked his daughter before the wedding day, especially considering he didn’t care enough to accompany her. I know it’s always safer to abide by the rules of a deal.
I pour myself another small glass of scotch and knock it back in one before turning and leaving my study. Aida concerns me more than I’d voice to anyone. My reputation as self-assured in every choice I make is seriously on the line when it comes to my fiancé. I’m not sure marrying her is a good idea.
It would be easier if she didn’t affect me the way she does. Her fiery defiance only makes me want her more. A sensation that I’ve never experienced before. Women are nothing more than an outlet for my urges. Normally one is not more alluring than another. Aida makes me lose control.
Piero is smartly dressed in a tuxedo since he is my best man. “How are you feeling, sir?” he asks as I approach the car.
I shrug. “Fine. It is nothing more than a business transaction.” I get into the passenger side of his car, and he gets into the driver’s seat.
“How have you got on with her up to now?” Piero asks, turning the key in the ignition.
I glare at my capo as he knows I don’t like small talk. “Not well.”
He nods. “I guess it’s to be expected since the girl has been uprooted from everything she knows and thrown into a situation she has no control over.”
He’s right. Aida has been through a lot, but her defiance suggests that the situation hasn’t affected her in the way I expected. She is strong, and that’s not what I want from a wife.
I glance at my capo, who drives with such calm in my presence. He’s probably the only man that is relaxed around me. “She is very disobedient.” I run a hand across the back of my neck. “For a girl who should be scared, she sure as hell doesn’t act like it.”
Piero smiles. “Don’t you know the disobedient ones are always the most fun?” He sounds like he’s talking from experience, but the truth is I don’t know that. Any woman I’ve been with has been a doormat. I’ve never been challenged the way she challenges me.
Piero parks the car around the corner from the church. He gets out and goes to open my door, but I exit before he can. My capo doesn’t need to act like my chauffeur.
“I haven’t been in a church since I was about this high,” he says, signaling about a meter or the floor.
I nod. “Makes two of us.”
He lets me walk in front of him to the entrance of the church. My uncle is already here, which is irritating. We don’t exactly get on, but he is my only living relative—it would have been disrespectful not to invite him.
The small Catholic Church entrance is ornate, and people I don’t wish to see chatter in front of it as if this is a joyous occasion. My heart skips a beat when I see Carmella, my ex and daughter of one of my rivals, standing to one side. No one invited her, and her presence is an underlying threat.
I grab Piero’s shoulder and make him aware of her presence.
“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
I nod and walk into the main part of the church.
Part of me half expected the whole place to burst into flames the moment I stepped foot inside the walls. I haven’t been to a church since I was a little boy, but Aida was brought up catholic, and it was one of Fabio’s wishes.
If it had been up to me, we would have done this in a local registry office with one witness. All I want is to get this over and done with and then return to life as usual after our honeymoon—I won’t allow Aida to change my way of life.
All the guests take their seats, including my ex. I can’t believe she’s here at my wedding. The string quartet starts to play the wedding march, and I glance down the aisle to see Aida at the entrance with a veil shielding her face. The white wedding gown she wears frames her luscious curves perfectly.
This is the first time I’ve seen her since things got out of control at dinner. A flood of desire pulses through me the moment I set eyes on her again.
Aida holds her head up high as she always does, approaching me at a slow pace. Entirely alone as she walks the aisle, but confident. Piero stands to my left-hand side, clutching the rings. The thought of wearing a wedding ring permanently makes my skin crawl, but it’s tradition, so I’ll indulge it for now.
Aida stops opposite me, keeping her head bowed. I reach for the veil over her face and lift it, revealing her beauty which kicks me in the gut. Aida’s more stunning than I can put into words.
Her chestnut brown eyes hold that irritated fire as she stares at me with passionate hate. An emotion I can work with.
The priest starts the ceremony, but I don’t listen. His words mean nothing to me as I’m beyond retribution. Instead, I memorize every blemish and detail of Aida�
��s face, waiting for the moment this is finally over.
“Milo, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” he asks.
I meet her gaze, and the challenge in them only excites me. “I do.” There’s no hesitation.
The priest looks satisfied and glances at Aida. “Aida, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
She glares at me hatefully, and the silence ticks by as she hesitates. If she thinks saying no now will get her out of this, then she is greatly mistaken. The priest is aware that there might be some resistance, but he has to marry us anyway.
After a painfully long pause, Aida finally speaks, “I do.”
There’s a feeling of satisfaction that she doesn’t fight the inevitable. I hold my breath as I wait for the inevitable next words from the priest.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The priest announces.
Aida looks irritated by those words, but I seize the opportunity, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against me. I feel her tense, eyes full of hatred as she searches mine. If she’s looking for a shred of morality or regret for what I did to her the other night, she won’t find it.
I meld my lips to hers forcefully and slide my tongue into her mouth. She nips at my tongue with her teeth in a warning, but all it does is make me want her more. I growl softly into her mouth, not caring who is watching us.
She tries to fight me, setting her hand on my chest and trying to push. I know that people watching will detect her resistance, but I don’t give a shit. When I finally break the kiss, she glares at me with flushed cheeks.
I hold out my arm to her, which she reluctantly takes. We walk down the aisle, and I notice that Carmella is no longer in her seat. Concern floods me, and I glance around the church quickly, noticing Lorenzo, her father’s henchman lingering in the side wings.
Tension coils through me like poison spreading to every inch of my body. Adrenaline pulses through my veins, and I know my wedding is about to turn into a bloodbath if I don’t act.
