It was getting late, and my nerves started to show, so I spent a few more minutes with Giorgia. She was always good at distracting me.
Giorgia and I moved to a corner for a chat, shielded from view by a privacy screen because a door to the staff area hid behind it. “You look nervous.”
“I am. It’s strange knowing that I’ll spend the night with Samuel. And not just sleeping.”
Giorgia bit the corner of her lower lip. “I’m sure it’ll be good. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “But it’s not like he chose to marry me.”
“You look friggin’ hot. He’ll be into you unless he’s gay.”
I giggled. “I’m pretty sure he’s not.”
A few minutes after midnight, Samuel and I took our leave and headed toward Samuel’s black Mercedes limousine. Our families and a few others followed us to see us off.
Samuel opened the passenger door for me, then his brows pulled together. I usually had no trouble lifting myself into a car seat, but the long dress made it a tad more difficult.
“I can lift her into the car.” Danilo stepped forward.
“No, I can handle it,” Samuel said at once. He bent down and slid one arm behind my back and the other under my legs. I quickly slung my arm around his neck, and my hand came to rest against his chest. His sudden closeness drove heat into my cheeks. He lifted me out of the wheelchair, and I clung to him, acutely aware of the crowd watching us.
“You won’t always have to lift me into the car.”
Samuel set me down on the leather seat. “It’s our wedding day. It’s tradition to carry the bride over the threshold, so I might as well carry you into the car.”
I grinned, relieved by his casual words. They lifted a weight off my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I said as I buckled up.
Danilo watched me with his usual look of vigilant concern. I rolled my eyes at him before Samuel closed the door, and the privacy glass prevented the outside world from seeing my face.
Samuel slid behind the steering wheel and started the car. When we pulled away from the hotel, I could feel a sense of wistfulness. One part of my life was over, and a new chapter had begun. I was looking forward to it with trepidation and excitement. I wasn’t sure what to expect from a marriage with Samuel.
We pulled up in front of a beautiful mansion, which sat right at the lakefront. It was a newly built, two-story mansion on Lake of the Isles. Ramps had been built beside the two stairs that led up the slope to the front door. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominated the front on the first and second floors to give a view of the lake. Samuel pushed me up the ramp, then he opened the door for me.
“Would you like a tour?” Samuel asked as I looked around the entrance hall with its high ceiling. I had seen the exposé and a few photos Samuel had taken, but seeing it in person was an entirely different experience.
I couldn’t wait to see the outdoor pool in the backyard and the fireplace on the deck. All day, I’d been nervous about tonight, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Maybe tomorrow morning, but now I’d rather go to bed.” My cheeks exploded with heat, but Samuel simply nodded. He looked calm and not at all nervous. I wished I could have a bit of his calm.
Next to the staircase, a modern glass elevator had been installed. Samuel pressed the button, and the doors slid open. He motioned for me to go in first and followed me. He stood very close to me as the elevator did not allow for much space between us. Not that I minded. Still, it was strange to be almost at eye level with his groin area, considering what would happen soon. My cheeks warmed further, and I tried to get my mind out of the gutter before I turned red like a tomato.
The elevator stopped on the upper floor and slid open. Samuel exited so I had room to wheel out. I glanced around. The gallery allowed a nice view over the entryway and onto the lake. Even in the dark, I could tell the view was spectacular. This could become a true home.
I glanced up at Samuel, who waited patiently beside me to look out the window. I hoped the two of us could make this a home.
He gave me a small smile, but it was so hard to read his eyes. He seemed so controlled, almost disinterested. Didn’t our wedding night make him nervous at all?
I gave him a smile in turn and glanced past him to indicate that we could move on.
“The primary bedroom is over there,” he said, leading me toward the first door on the left. He opened the door for me, and I moved inside. The walls were painted dark blue, and a beautiful light gray herringbone parquet covered the floor. A chandelier hung over the wide king-sized bed with its silver bedding. The soft light from the chandelier immediately relaxed me.
After finishing my first quick assessment, I stopped in the middle, unsure what to do and where to go. To the bathroom? But the dress was closed by dozens of tiny buttons I wouldn’t even be capable of opening myself. Samuel closed the door before he faced me.
He looked magnificent in his dark blue tuxedo. He had blond hair and stunning blue eyes, with wide shoulders and strong arms. I tore my gaze away and lowered it to my hands, which fumbled with my purse.
Silence cloaked us like a heavy drape, settling itself like a suffocating weight on my heart until my throat tightened and embarrassment crowded my chest. I should let him off easily and tell him I was tired.
I didn’t want him to sleep with me because he felt obligated when he didn’t desire me. “Is it okay if I go to the bathroom to wash my face and freshen up?”
“Of course,” Samuel said, and the tight note in his voice made me look up. His brows were drawn together as he regarded me, maybe wondering if he needed to help me. With that intense look, he seemed even less approachable, like there was no way I could ever crash through the walls he had built as a high-ranking Made Man. The thought that he might worry about having to assist me to go to the toilet drove shame into my cheeks.
I rolled my wheelchair into the bathroom but didn’t close the door and continued until I was in front of the sink. The bathroom was incredibly spacious, so I had more than enough room to move around. The shower was accessible with a wide door that allowed easy access and handles so I could pull myself up, and one of the counters was lower so I could easily see my reflection even when seated in my wheelchair.
Samuel followed me and leaned against the doorframe. His scrutiny made me nervous, but at the same time, I wanted to show him that I wasn’t as helpless as he worried. I arrested the brakes of my wheelchair, then slid my legs to the floor and carefully pushed myself to my feet. Samuel rocked forward as if he thought I would fall, but I gripped the edge of the counter to steady myself and straightened. His eyes trailed along my body, and I realized he was checking me out in my wedding dress. I couldn’t read his expression, but I hoped he liked what he saw. I loved the dress, loved how I looked in it. I went through my evening routine, cleaning my face and brushing my teeth, while Samuel stood in the doorway.
I wished he’d at least say something. When I was done, I paused and peered toward my husband in the mirror. Our gazes locked, and the intensity in his halted my breath. I swallowed, not sure what to do. At that moment, it seemed impossible that only eight years separated us. Eight years and a lifetime of experiences.
Undressing would be next, but I’d need his help with the dress, and considering this was our wedding night, he should be eager to get me out of my clothes and into the bed. Samuel briefly looked away, and when he met my gaze again, his expression was stone.
I swallowed my disappointment and my pride. “I need help with the buttons.”
“Of course.” Samuel walked over to me, and my fingers on the counter tightened. My legs grew tired from standing. My muscles were not strong enough to carry my weight this long after a day like this.
“Do you need to sit down?” Samuel asked as he towered over me. He was much broader and taller than me, and my insides liquefied at his strength.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “But then you won’t be able to reach the buttons.”
Samuel considered me for a few seconds. “If you lie down on your stomach on the bed, I can unbutton your dress.”
My stomach fluttered. “That sounds like a good plan.”
A small, tense smile graced Samuel’s face, and he surprised me when he lifted me and carried me over to the bed. I wasn’t sure where to put my hands, suddenly overwhelmed with the situation, so I cradled them against my stomach. When we reached the bed, he paused, and I looked up. My belly twisted at the look on his face. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but my pulse sped up nevertheless. He tore his gaze away and put me down. As I lay before him in my dress and he stood over me, my nerves bustled in my body. I rolled over, presenting my back to him, and he perched on the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed the skin between my shoulder blades when he reached for the top buttons of the dress, and I stifled a soft sigh as I rested my head on my forearms.
Samuel worked on my buttons in silence, and every so often, his fingers brushed my skin as he loosened the buttons. I could feel his accidental touches in the deepest pit of my belly, wakening something I had never felt before. When he reached the last third, I stilled. Those buttons were positioned right over my ass, and my heart sped up when I realized that Samuel would soon see me like no one had ever seen me, half naked with only tiny lace panties. He kept opening my dress, but his fingers lingered often now, soft against my skin.
“Done,” he said with a slightly rougher quality to his voice that I couldn’t place.
I lifted my head a few inches and peered over my shoulder at him. “Thank you.”
Samuel dragged his eyes up from where his hands still rested on my backside, half on the fabric of my dress, half against my skin. He gave a tense nod. For a moment, neither of us said anything, and my confusion rose because his expression was one I’d never seen on his or any man’s face before.
“Why don’t you turn on your back? Then I can help you out of your dress.”
My breath stilled in my throat. I could have pulled the dress down myself at this point, but I nodded and rolled over on my back. Samuel’s eyes slid along my body before he stood and bent over me, grabbing the straps of my dress. My breathing quickened with nerves. Samuel gazed into my eyes, noticing of course, and he didn’t look away when he slid the straps down my arms. He halted briefly before hooking his fingers under my neckline and slowly pushing the dress down.
Surprise followed by something darker flashed in his eyes when he saw that I wasn’t wearing a bra. The dress didn’t allow for one.
My nipples puckered, and goose bumps covered my body. I resisted the urge to cover myself and lay still under Samuel’s steady gaze. I wasn’t self-conscious about this part of my body, and his lingering attention filled me with a strange warmth. He pushed the dress farther down along my legs until I lay before him in nothing but my panties. His eyes traced my legs. They didn’t look different from other people’s legs, a little less in control and less muscled, but nothing was obvious when I lay like this. They filled me with insecurity anyway.
He pulled his eyes away from my body, and disappointment filled me. I’d tried to keep my expectations low so as not to be disappointed, but I’d still secretly hoped for a real wedding night.
“We should talk,” Samuel murmured.
I nodded, swallowing hard, barely able to look him in the eye. I knew what was coming. He’d now explain to me that he couldn’t be with me because he just wasn’t attracted to me. I had expected something like that. Ours wouldn’t be the first fake marriage.
I reached for my nightgown. “I can—” I was about to tell him that I could dress myself in my nightgown before we had this talk, as my nakedness didn’t serve any other purpose than to make me feel even more vulnerable. Samuel stopped my hand with a gentle touch.
I frowned at him, confused and acutely aware of his dressed state and how close to my mostly naked body he was. “You don’t have to justify yourself,” I whispered. “Don’t give me any long-winded explanations.”
Samuel narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”
I swallowed, feeling almost sick from embarrassment and hurt. Did I really have to spell it out for him? “I don’t expect you to consummate our marriage if you’re not attracted to me. I realize men can’t just fake being attracted to someone.” I crossed my arms over my breasts, wishing I could walk and make a quick escape.
Samuel leaned back slightly, his brows climbing his forehead. He shook his head, looking as if I’d lost my mind. “You think this talk is about me not wanting to have sex with you?”
I blinked. His half-amused, half-aghast tone threw me completely off.
“Trust me, that’s not the case, and I won’t have to fake being attracted to you.”
“Okay,” I said hesitantly. “Then what did you want to talk about?”
He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes trailing over my panties, my exposed stomach, and my hands still clutching my breasts. “I wanted to make sure I’m not taking advantage of you.”
Now it was my turn to be completely taken aback until it dawned on me what he meant. “Because I’m in a wheelchair, you worry wanting to sleep with me is taking advantage of me?”
“Maybe.” He paused, his frown deepening. “And I don’t want to hurt you. You are more vulnerable than other women, so it crossed my mind that I might have to be more careful because of your injuries.”
I bit my lip. Maybe the mostly faded scars on my back, hips, and legs had caused him to worry, and I found it incredibly touching that he was trying to make sure that I would be okay. “You don’t have to treat me differently. I’m not breakable, and my injuries were treated properly, so they don’t cause me much trouble anymore. I’m not any different from other women. The wheelchair doesn’t mean I feel differently or that I don’t feel desire. I’m your wife, a woman, a person. The wheelchair doesn’t define who I am.”
“All right,” Samuel said in a low voice, moving a bit closer. “Then I’ll cut to the chase. I want to have sex with my wife tonight. What about you?”
Boom. I stared at him. I knew he meant me, but it took a few heartbeats to sink in. My throat became inexplicably dry. I’d fantasized about it, but I hadn’t really thought it would happen. Now that I realized it would really happen, my nerves crashed down on me. “I-I…”
“It’s okay if you say no.”
“No,” I blurted. “I mean, yes.” I shook my head, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Samuel touched my neck lightly, a gesture that calmed and excited me at the same time.
“I-I want to.”
“Don’t think. Let me handle it,” Samuel murmured, sounding reassuringly confident.
The overthinker in me protested, but for once, I didn’t listen. I only nodded. Samuel oozed control and calm.
Samuel removed his jacket with utter poise, then unfastened his gun holster and put it down on the nightstand. He climbed on the bed, and suddenly, he leaned over me, his face taking up my vision, and his mouth came down on mine, kissing me. Kissing me like he meant it, not hesitant and restrained, but firm and demanding, and before I could process what was happening, his tongue found mine and tasted me, teased me, filled me with a fire I had been unfamiliar with. He climbed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, surrounding me with his warmth and scent and strength.
Flames of need licked at my belly, making me ache in a way I’d never experienced. When he finally pulled back, his breathing harsh, his eyes dark and full of desire, I felt like he’d breathed life into me. He looked at me like I was the most desirable woman on this planet.
His hand brushed my shoulder before moving to my rib cage and my hands, which were still pressed against my breasts. He looked me in the eyes as he pulled one hand, then the other away, laying me bare.
I swallowed, my breath shaky.
“You can say no any time,” he rasped. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I could get a word out of my tight throat. I was so nervous and excited like never before.
His gaze slid lower, down to my puckered nipples, then his thumb stroked the underside of my breast. The touch was light and gentle as his fingers traced the curve of my breasts almost reverently. He lifted his head, and his blue eyes searched mine. Did he think I’d stop him?
Even if I was nervous, even if I wasn’t sure I was ready for what he wanted, I was too high on the look of hunger on his face to leave it unfulfilled.
I stared back at him, my tongue too heavy to speak the actual words—to tell him I wanted this, I wanted him—but he must have seen it in my face, probably from years of experience with countless women. His palm covered my breast, and his mouth claimed mine once more.
His fingers teased my nipple, rubbing it between them, sending a delicious tingling through my core, which intensified with every swirl of Samuel’s tongue in my mouth. I lay motionless, not because my body forced me but because Samuel rendered me as such.
He didn’t leave me time for doubt or fear as he pulled away from my mouth and latched onto my nipple.
I let out a surprised gasp at the feel of his hot, wet tongue pressing against my nipple, circling it, of his teeth grazing my sensitive skin. My fingers found the back of his head, holding on to him almost desperately as I gasped and trembled, completely overwhelmed. The feel of his crisp suit against my bare arms and belly was strangely erotic. He moved from one breast to the next before he made his way down my body, nibbling and kissing, but when he reached my hip bone, I tensed, worried he’d touch my legs, legs that weren’t as sensitive as that of others.
Samuel peered up at me as he caressed from my calf up to my thigh. I distantly felt the touch in some places, mostly my thighs, like a dull pressure, but it wasn’t strong, and in other places, I didn’t feel anything at all.
I considered faking sensations, but again, Samuel acted before I could. His touch became firmer as he kneaded my upper thighs, and finally, I felt it everywhere, especially deep in my core, as if my head had finally caught up. He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to my thigh as his eyes regarded my face, gauging my reaction. I saw the kiss more than I felt it, but by seeing it, seeing Samuel’s beautiful face against my thigh, my body reacted with a flood of desire. He bit down lightly on my skin, and I felt that in my core like a shock wave of arousal. My eyes widened, stunned and helpless in his hands.
His fingers hooked in my panties, and he pulled them down. Heat filled my cheeks from the intense look in his eyes as he raised them from my center to my face. Never taking his gaze off me, he gripped my upper thigh and parted me. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to watch the hunger in Samuel’s eyes as he looked at me. He dragged his thumb along my crease, and I sucked in a startled breath, too caught up in the sensation to be embarrassed because my body didn’t react as easily.
He rubbed my folds very lightly, then pushed between them. I could feel that I was only slightly wet and worried that he’d be frustrated with my lack of reaction, but Samuel dipped the pad of his thumb into me, causing me to gasp again. He began to draw out my arousal and spread it on my folds and clit, dip and swirl, dip and swirl, over and over again until I was panting and ready, even without lubricant. He pushed his thumb into me once more, but this time, he didn’t pull it back out. Instead, he started circling while his two fingers stroked my clit. I stared at his strong hand, at the fingers giving me pleasure. I could feel every movement as if he was tugging at my nerve endings like a puppet master.
It was indescribable, and I clung to the blankets, panting, gasping, losing control of my body and the sounds coming from my mouth.
“Good,” he encouraged in a low voice. “You’re doing very good, Emma.”
His praise sent a new flood of arousal through me. He pulled out his thumb and brushed two fingers over my opening. I tensed, waiting for the discomfort, but Samuel held my gaze as he began rubbing my clit with his thumb, making me pant once more before he began to ease his fingers into me. My brows snatched together at the stretching sensation. It wasn’t painful, but definitely uncomfortable.
“Remember, you can say stop anytime,” he reminded me again.
“I know,” I pressed out, slightly annoyed because I didn’t want him to treat me like a porcelain doll.
“You’re only eighteen, Emma. You’re very inexperienced, so I treat you how a good husband should treat his young virgin bride, but trust me, no part of me wants to stop.”
His words made me flush, but then he pushed his fingers deeper into me and pressed harder against my clit, and any sane thought left my mind. Silence settled over us except for my pants and moans and Samuel’s deep breathing. I could feel my control slipping more and more as my pleasure mounted.
I bit my lip, and tension shot through my belly as waves of pleasure radiated from my center all through my body. Samuel looked up, his intense gaze focusing on my face. In the throes of my orgasm, I was unable to look away, to do anything but allow my body to run the show and ride the waves of pleasure. Samuel watched me the entire time, only briefly averting his gaze to watch his fingers on me, in me. He still moved them, but slower, his thumb only lightly circling my sensitive clit. I was lost in the sensations, amazed at my body, at his ability to allow me this.
His fingers kept up their teasing, allowing me to relish the pleasurable aftermath of my release. Then he pushed off me, straightening to his full impressive height, and started undressing. My eyes followed his progress, terrified and excited, as he shed one piece of clothing after the other until he stood before me completely naked. I exhaled when I caught sight of his erection, exhilarated that I had done this to him, but at the same time scared of having him in me. He was so much bigger than two fingers, which had already been uncomfortable.
Sleeping with someone, with him, had always been such an abstract concept. For a long time, I hadn’t thought it would happen to me at all. I’d never felt more woman than I did at this moment, strangely empowered by my body’s reaction.
Samuel climbed back on the bed. “Is this what you want?”
What I wanted? My body wanted every part of Samuel and had never felt a desire more potent. My head wanted love and affection, wanted the fantasy version of how a first time was supposed to be. I wasn’t a dreamer.
“Yes,” I breathed out, half tempted to ask him the same question. He gave a curt nod before he pushed my legs apart so he could settle between them. His actions were very effective, considerate, and kind, but they weren’t affectionate. I shut my head down, knowing full well these thoughts weren’t going to help. He lowered himself to his elbows. My breaths came faster, and my heart thundered in my chest when I felt a light pressure. This was it.
Samuel held my gaze and brushed his lips across mine in a surprising act of gentleness before he started to push in. I clung to his back and gasped against his mouth from pain this time. I forced myself to relax. Fighting the pain would only make it worse. I knew all about pain, and this was nothing in comparison. His expression became strained as he entered me slowly, then paused when he was inside me. I shivered, trying to get used to the intense stretching sensation.
Samuel looked at my face, then did the first light thrust. I winced, my breath hitching. He kept moving very slowly, his eyes on me.
Maybe I should have been embarrassed by his continuous gaze, but he was so calm and confident that it helped with my own nerves.
His thrusts soon became harder, faster, and the twinge turned into a throbbing pain, but I kissed him and held back the whimpers because I’d waited for this moment. Maybe I was still trying to prove everyone who thought I couldn’t lead a normal life wrong.
He came with a groan and shudder, and I felt him release into me, felt his twitch and his muscles softening. For a moment, he remained in me, on me, but then he rolled off, his chest heaving.
I turned my head toward him, my breath coming in short, stunned exhales as the reality of what just happened set in. He’d claimed me and had enjoyed it from the look of it. I could have laughed and cried from joy despite the throbbing between my thighs. I wanted to scream at the people who’d thought this marriage would never come to be.
Samuel closed his eyes with a sigh, and I allowed myself to trace his body with my eyes—his wide chest, his ripped stomach, narrow waist, and the trimmed dark blond hair around his half-erect cock. His thighs and erection were smeared with my blood, causing me to flush.
I wanted to touch him with a despaired longing I was entirely unfamiliar with, but he didn’t feel like mine to touch yet. I was his, by law, by tradition, and because he’d claimed me as such, but he didn’t feel like mine. I wondered if he ever would.
