THE WEDDING NIGHT
WHEN SHE UNRAVELS BONUS SCENE
GABRIELLE SANDS
THE WEDDING NIGHT
VALENTINA
My second wedding might not be as extravagant as my first, but for
what it lacks in pomp, it certainly makes up for with joy. Turns out
you don’t need much to have the perfect celebration when you’re
marrying the one you love.
Three guests, a violinist, an officiant who may or may not be slightly
hung over, and Damiano standing under a flowered arch in one of his
perfectly tailored suits. When he slips the diamond encrusted ring on
my finger, my stomach does a happy flip. When I do the same to him,
something clicks into place inside my chest.
Damiano told me he’d make me his, but in this moment, I realize just
how badly I’ve craved to make him mine.
After the late afternoon ceremony, we dance and eat and laugh for
hours. It’s dark out when Damiano and I decide to call it a night. Ras
stays outside with Gemma and Mari since they both had far too
much champagne and someone needs to make sure they make it
back to their rooms. We say our goodbyes and make our way inside
the house, their chatter fading behind us.
iii
I find my husband’s hand as we scale the stairs. His warm palm swallows mine right up and squeezes. When the band of his ring lightly
digs into my fingers, a thrill runs down my spine. We’re married.
Damiano is my husband. I turn those strange and wonderful
sentences over and over inside my head until they feel just right.
We reach the third-floor landing and he draws to a stop.
“Why—” My words get cut off when he presses me into the wall and
puts his lips against the side of my throat.
“What is this scent?” he murmurs against my skin. “It’s new.”
I was chilly a moment ago, but now my skin flares with warmth. “It’s
my favorite perfume, Chloé. Gemma bought it for me at the airport.”
He takes a deep inhale and grunts in approval. His right hand moves
to cup my breast through my dress. “It makes me want to suck on
your neck while I fuck you nice and slow.”
Goosebumps erupt across my nape. “Right here?”
His nose traces the curve of my cheek. “Everywhere.”
“We have to start somewhere,” I say, dipping my fingertips behind his
belt. “No one’s around.”
He pulls back to meet my gaze. His eyes are burning embers, filling
the air around us with a decadent heat. He lets out a low chuckle as
he fists the skirt of my dress. “My filthy little wife. You want me to
fuck you right here?”
I unclasp his belt. “Yes.”
He growls and hikes my dress up to my waist. I gasp when his fingers
nudge inside my underwear and trace my wet seam. “So ready for me
already,” he rasps. “But I told you, I want to fuck you slow. I want to
savor you, wife.”
I swallow. He lets my skirt drop and cups my cheek, his eyes fixated
on my face. “Now, get on your knees.”
iv
The contrast between the softness of his tone and the dirty implication behind his command makes me weak in the legs. I sink before
him and hold his gaze while I take him out of his pants. When I start
to suck, I hear his palm slap against the wall behind me for support.
“Fuck, Vale,” he groans. “Good girl.”
Those two words send a charge of electricity down my spine that
settles right between my legs. I suck on him with so much enthusiasm that saliva and tears are soon trickling down my face. When his
balls tighten, he makes a tortured sound. “I want you looking at me
when I come down your throat.”
I glance up and it pushes him over the edge. He curses while he spills
inside my mouth and all I can think is how gorgeous he looks when
he’s this undone. I’m never going to tire of soaking this up.
“Come here,” he whispers and helps me get back up. He takes a
handkerchief from his pocket and gently wipes my face. His mouth
finds mine and he must not mind his taste on my lips because he
devours me for a few long moments. I sink into his powerful body
and drag my palms over his sculpted shoulders. I want to get him
naked and take my time licking all of my favorite parts—the ridges of
his abs, the length of his collarbone, the column of his throat—but
that’ll have to wait. He told me earlier he has plans for me tonight.
Anticipation simmers in the pit of my belly. “Am I going to be able to
walk tomorrow?” I ask.
He picks me up bridal style and turns us toward the bedroom. “You’ll
get a reminder of me with every step you take.”
My toes curl.
Damiano shuts the door behind us and deposits me on the bed. I
realize I need to get out of this dress before he grows impatient and
tears it to shreds. I flip to my stomach and peek at him over my shoulder. “Undo it.”
He kneels on the bed and trails the buttoned spine of the dress with
his fingers. It terminates just above my butt. One by one, he undoes
v
the buttons and kisses each new inch of exposed flesh. By the time
he’s finished, I’m so worked up from the sensation of his short beard
prickling against my sensitive skin that I’m practically panting.
He gets me out of the dress, flips me over, and tugs me forward until
my ass is almost hanging off the edge of the bed. Then he kneels
before me.
I use my elbows to prop myself up on the bed and meet his gaze. A
wicked smirk tugs at his lips. “I got a surprise for you.” He reaches for
something under the bed and produces a smooth wooden box. My
brows pull together. “What is it?”
He opens the box and takes out a vibrator. When my lips part in
surprise, he chuckles. “I told you I’d make you squirt again for me.”
My cheeks heat as he flicks on the nightshade and turns on the vibe.
He opens my legs wider and then leans in to lick my clit.
My eyelashes flutter and I throw my head back. “Oh God.”
He licks and sucks and then replaces his tongue with the vibe,
drawing small circles around the bundle of nerves.
I gasp when he finds the perfect rhythm. He turns up the setting,
making the device vibrate even faster and then stuffs his fingers into
my wet and throbbing pussy.
“I want your thighs soaked and your cunt dripping all over the floor,”
he growls.
When he curls his fingers inside of me, I cry out. The sensation of the
vibe and his fingers is almost too much. My pleasure is so intense that
it dances on the edge of pain. “I don’t know if I can,” I confess to him
in a shaky voice.
“Yeah, you can, baby. Look at me.”
With some effort, I lift my head off the bed. The hungry expression
on his face sends a shock wave of pleasure through my body and my
thighs begin to tremble. “That’s it,” he coaxes. “You’re so fucking
vi
close, I can feel it. Do it for me, Vale. Show me what a filthy girl you
are and I’ll reward you with my cum.”
My grip on reality fades. “Oh God, oh fu—”. I open right up. I can
barely feel the wet warmth between my legs over the sensation of all
of my nerve endings firing at the same time. My muscles twitch and
my clit pulses to a hard, steady rhythm. He shattered me. Broke me
completely.
Damiano lets out a guttural groan. “Fuck me. Look at that sloppy
cunt. That’s my girl. I’m going to fuck you really well for that.”
I’m still twitching when he hikes me up the bed, covers my body with
his, and enters me in one smooth stroke.
He fucks me nice and slow just like he promised, on the bed, on the
floor, and then against the shower wall. The boundaries between us
fade until his body starts to feel as familiar as my own. How was it
that I lived twenty-one long years without this man in my life? Imagining just days without him seems impossible now. However greedy
he might be for me, I’m just as greedy in response.
When he’s finally done with me hours later, we climb into bed and he
nestles me against his chest. “My wife,” he says wistfully, pressing his
lips to my hair. “My queen.”
A smile unfurls over my tired lips. I was never a perfect mafia wife,
but I think I’ll make a damn good queen.
vii
READ WHEN SHE TEMPTS
WHEN SHE TEMPTS: A Dark Mafia Romance
The story of Martina & Giorgio
READ NOW
She’s eighteen. Innocent. Forbidden.
Martina De Rossi is off-limits, and not just because her brother is
about to become the Don.
When I agree to protect her while he’s out waging a brutal war, it isn’t
only out of loyalty.
It’s because Martina is the perfect pawn in my game of revenge.
Unfortunately, she’s also temptation personified.
Innocent eyes. A body to die for. Silky blond hair that begs to be
wrapped around my fist.
I’m a master of staying in control, but with each day she spends with
me inside the walls of my remote Italian castle, I can feel my resolve
cracking.
My gaze starts to drift.
My touch starts to linger.
And when she tempts, I realize this game we’re playing might be one
I won’t win.
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Copyright © 2022 by Gabrielle Sands
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real
places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products
of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, places, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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