“You look perfect,” Blair grins clasping the blue earrings on my earlobes and easing the flower crown onto my large wild toffee curls, you can thank my shampoo and hours of drying it out because only then did I discover the true length of my hair.
I was wearing Dina’s old ivory-pearl necklace that complimented my hair and Mona’s borrowed butterfly clip on the side of my bodice.
I think that’s what everyone was gunning for.
“How do I look?” I grin ridiculously too wide for my own liking.
I’m about to be Mrs. Mason DeLuca in a few moments and after that, I won’t be able to leave this insane family until our two year period is done.
I laugh, hard, cradling my lily and rose bouquet to my chest. I’m getting married. I, Jae-that-no-one-bothered-to-take-notice-of, am getting married!
“Showtime ladies,” Blair grins fixing her silk cocktail dress and beautiful Gabriella came in just about the right moment, looking exactly like the mini-version of me with her exact resized dress and flower crown.
She toys with the petals in her basket before saying, “you look like a princess, Aunty Jae.”
Really? I looked like a princess?
“Which one?” I ask her with a wide smile and twinkling irises.
I wish I had a prince who loved me enough like the prince loved Cinderella.
The intimate affair was held in a beautiful makeshift church just outside a hotel where I would promise my love to a man I only felt physical attraction to. Majority of the guest list were Italians and only a few of my friends and family dared to drown in jealousy as I said ‘I do’ to a devilishly handsome man who doesn’t even blink twice when firing his rifle.
I ease myself into the white limo Mason sent out since dawn but due to the fact that I posses a uterus and ovaries, I took my gorgeous time. I didn’t wear heavy make-up at all, avoiding the risk of becoming a caked clown at my first wedding and I opted for a more reserved approach. The only think major was probably the smokey eye but other than that, a fresh face and nude lips tied up my look.
Only when I had stepped into the cool lobby with my dress bunched up in my hands did I truly realize the importance of my sudden actions. My heart clenches in my chest and I gasp, stopping on my feet.
“Jae,” Blair coos fanning my face so I couldn’t smudge my mascara “you’re almost there babe.”
“I’m hyperventilating.” I sob strangling my bouquet “I can’t do this.”
“Aunty Jae,” Gabriella soothes me with her light tone “remember, Cinderella.”
I’m black, ain’t no black Cinderella!
Alright, Jae breathe in, breathe out. Inhale, exhale.
An image of Selena jumping to that altar and taking what’s mine hits me like a wrecking ball and I straighten up my posture, molars grinding into each other.
Inhale vigorously, exhale vigorously.
‘Here comes the bride’ coaxes my nerves as I search for my husband-to-be and I nearly lost my breath when I found him. He looks absolutely beautiful in his black expensive Armani suit and obviously, like any other rich Italian, he wore expensive shoes.
Why are you looking at his feet?!
After sauntering on top of the petals Gabriella dropped on the floor, Mason reaches out for my hand with a dazzling pearly-white smile and I put my dainty hand into his large one. The feeling that tore through me when our hands fitted together like two perfect lost puzzle pieces was indescribable.
“You look beautiful, cara mia.” He whispers quietly in my ear and I struggle to retain composure.
Our eyes couldn’t leave each other, even when I professed my rehearsed googled vows but in a way, I felt as though my words were meaning a lot more than what I was actually gunning for. The small crowd burst into low gasps and murmurs when Mason pulled out another ring next to my slim engagement ring.
I wanted to curse him for buying a ring that would endanger my safety when I’m out and about in town but that smile he had when he slipped them both on erased all those vile thoughts. Initially, I wanted to hug him as a form of affection but Mason thought it would be absolutely wonderful to dip me down and assault my mouth.
“Mrs. DeLuca!” Walter grins catapulting me into a warm hug and twirling my body around. I giggle hysterically and kiss his cheek “you look very gorgeous my natural beauty.”
“Oh why thank you fine sir,” I bellow mocking his accent “I’m without glasses so we are free to take selfies everyday now.”
“Mona would’ve been proud of you;” Walter lowers me down to my feet with a shy smile “I’m really happy for you.”
Mason cuts our conversation short by twirling me on my feet before pulling me to my chest, “come, I have a few people you must meet.”
“Oh,” I mumble soberly, stealing a brief glance of Walter “I’m still talking to Walter though –”
"Wife, you will obey me as your husband.” He hisses through his teeth before dragging me away from my annoyed best friend.
His business associates were inquisitive, enquiring what ever happened between Selena and Mason and when did I suddenly come into the picture. It stung because majority of them seemed to press on about Selena, rather than finding out which damsel he blackmailed into marriage.
I take to a waiter handing out drinks and scoop a flute of champagne off his tray. The bubbly drink dances on my palate and dives down my throat, easing my nerves.
“I didn’t think you were actually going to marry what’s mine.”
Neither did I.
“Well here I am babe, would you like champagne?”
She scoffs, her eyes fiery, “his business associates like me because I’m actually the face of the DeLuca’s.”
“The DeLuca’s are not some beauty company debuting rats,” my eyes widen at my harsh, false words because Selena is gorgeous “sorry, it’s the alcohol. Weren’t you blonde?”
A crude smile makes way on Selena’s lips, “it’s one of Mason’s greatest fantasies.”
I arch a brow, “to have you blonde?”
“No!” she shrills agitatedly “to make beautiful sweet love to a blonde Italian woman.”
Once again, I crumble at her words. She roars out a satisfactory laugh before stalking away from me. I eye the bubbles rising to the surface of my glass and down it down before finding another waiter and doing the same to the glass like I’d done before.
“Micio,” Mason chuckles, his black curls were a bit slicked back today “trying to get drunk already?”
No, I’m trying to erase all thoughts of you with beautiful Italian women.
“You don’t look so good,” Mason studies me, his warm hand falling into my much chilly one “we must dance.”
“I don’t think people would appreciate your black bride twerking on your cóck!” I snap, only to process my harsh words after.
“Dance with me, wife.” he grabs my wrist tightly and drags me to the dance floor before placing his hands on my waist and gesturing that mine should go around his neck.
“Three weeks in Venezuela and one week in California, is that a perfect one month honeymoon to you?”
“Honeymoon?” I whisper but his lips on my jugular vein makes speech hard for a sister “I need to carry on with Mona’s case.”
“Do you honestly think,” I gasp after he finds a very interesting spot on my skin “we’d get married without a honeymoon?”
What are you, naive? My conscience questions.
“Well,” I groan lowly in his air “it can’t be a month long.”
“Please,” he begs quietly in my ear, swaying my hips to the rhythm of the soft tune “name whatever it is I must do in order for you to be mine.”
Selena and I lock gazes and I embed my fingers deep in Mason’s curls, angling his head to my sweet spot.
Let me be his tour guide during these New Year events, then he won’t take me to places where he has mistresses lined up.
“South Africa, Tanzania and any place you wish, four days only.”
“Micio,” he groans lowly, the sexy sound nearly made me lose my cool and sink down on his heated rod right there on the dance floor “I’m going to need more than a mere four days.”
“A week then.”
A week, three extra days should get him his fill of me to the point where he’ll be tired.
“Very well,” he dips me down after an instrumental climax and smiles at me like the handsome devil he knows he is.
I hugged Walter and Blair tightly, telling them to call all the time in case Mason has decided to murder me and hide my body in one of his basements. Earlier, while I rushed into one of the hotel rooms to change into Blair’s thigh-slit black grown for the reception, I heard Mason validate a piece of property in Cape Town, a penthouse in Tanzania and one other place I couldn’t really gather together.
Our bags were packed and already en route to the first class division of the plane simply because I managed to talk Mason out of using his blood-money private jet and rather organize us last-minute tickets to Cape Town.
I sigh quietly and lurch to my mother, who I didn’t see for the majority duration of the wedding because she was showing Mason off, “Mama?”
She forces a tight smile and rubs my bare arm, “you enjoy yourself out there, have fun.”
I couldn’t even respond because I wasn’t ready for another brawl before my honeymoon. The memories of my big wedding were only now nestling in and I was prepared to take a one hour nap out of the whole eighteen hours we have to spend flying to South Africa.
“Can...can I cuddle?” I mumble softly with a slight flush, lifting the arm rest between our two-seater so I could have the right amount of access to my husband.
“Cara,” his eyes twinkle with foreign heat “you need no permission because this body is yours.”
I blush, my lips tilting into a small smile and I curl into his side, my fingers on his chest before dipping my eyes shut.
“The weeknd or Jhene Aiko?”
“Van Morrison.” Mona answers blandly.
“Okay, Sade or The Fine Young Cannibals?”
“You and Mason should just get married already; you have the same boring music taste.”
“Uh...Mason is yours...”
“But he’s boring!”
I peep one eye open, the smell of burning lead wafting up my nostrils and I pout finding my back against the window and my hair sprawled all over my face. A muscle pulsates in Mason’s jaw as he shifts his paper around, shading vigorously.
“How long have I been –”
“Don’t move.” Mason grunt shading a lot quicker and faster now. He looks beautiful, tongue hanging out as he scribbles all over his sketching pad.
Finally after what felt like years but was only really four minutes, Mason gazes up at me with a wide smile.
“Cara,” he smashes his lips on mine and abruptly I succumb to his skill, finding myself lost in a whirlpool of outmost passion “you’re mine now.”
“I should sleep more often if that’s how you’re going to greet me.” I blurt out and my cheeks flush instantly, my heart fluttering in my chest “how long have I been out?”
He kisses me again, “about three hours.”
My eyes drop down to his sketchpad, “may I see?”
“No,” he groans kissing my lips softly “I want to fill this book first before you open it.”
“Party pooper,” I smile kissing his lips once again, although discreetly manoeuvring my fingers into his so I could retrieve the thick sketchpad.
“Not going to happen cara,” he pulls away with torn eyes and sets the arm rest up “now be contained, you beautiful beast.”
He just called me beautiful...and beast in the same sentence...
I couldn’t be more aroused.
Cape Town is stunning and warm but nothing could beat the beauty of Sea Point beach in the evening. Mason pulled up into the beach house an hour ago and practically shoved it in my face that he bought this house while he was studying in college with Mona. The house was a gorgeous two bedroom, two his-and-her bathrooms, one large dining area connected to the kitchen and the beautiful balcony that gave you the view of the beach and Table Mountain.
“Mia moglie,” Mason intercepts my thoughts by bringing me a glass of red wine “what do you think of my house?”
“Eh,” I shrug before complimenting the beach “look at the ocean, isn’t it gorgeous?”
“Ouch,” he holds his chest in mock hurt “you’d rather talk about the beach rather than my lavish pad?”
I take a generous sip of the red wine and smile teasingly, “you want me to be a gold digger?”
He advances towards me, cologne hypnotizing and alluring and he tilts my chin up to his attention “I wouldn’t mind that one bit,” his lips skim my jaw briefly and teasingly “because I can provide for all your materialistic needs.”
If that’s the case.
“Make a wave right now, which would most certainly complete me.”
“Micio,” he laughs, loud laughter booming from his chest “you’re a rare one. How about we take a long bath together –”
“I’d prefer if I took one alone,” I rush out, swallowing the rest of the wine down “I’ll, uh, go take that shower now.”
He probably wants to consummate right now.
His hands brush against my rear accidently while peering over to glance at my choice of underwear in my large suitcase, “wear the –”
“I’m going to wear my granny panties, thank you very much.” I murmur lowly before taking off to the caramel and onyx-coloured bathroom with a wide mirror that spanned across the room. He definitely had money to splurge on a lot of things despite what he’s done to get that money but during this week I vowed not to think about anything else other than my happiness and pleasure.
Underneath this unattractively plush robe was a vixen ready to spring into action. I wore the purple lace number, the briefs were just under my belly button and I nearly thanked the Lord out loud for giving me the willpower to shave.
I exit the bathroom, my curls hoarding my scalp only to find Mason draped in the exact same robe although looking, dare I say, fresh from a shower?
“Micio,” Mason beacons me to his expensive sound system “come here.”
Reluctantly I take to him and watch intently as he slides the disk in, a familiar tune playing softly in the room in a matter of seconds.
“Remember this song?”
Smooth Operator by Sade was familiar but I couldn’t exactly pinpoint where last I had heard the song.
“That’s the song I played while making love to you at the motel.”
Oh, he’s definitely going to want to consummate. Who am I to deny his right to his wife on his wedding night?
“Dance with me.” he murmurs lowly and I twirl to the tune beguiling me to lust, his hands on my hips while he twirled me around effortlessly.
There was no doubt that he was aroused, his endowed member was thrust into the small of my back with every chance it got.
This is for you, you deserve it. My conscience gave me two thumbs up and I smiled in response.
I stand on my toes and press my lips onto his into a sensational kiss, passion tugging me tight as though it were afraid I would leave. Everything seems to fog once Mason places me on the giant bed of his and continues to rapture me with his skilful lips while balancing his weight on top of my body. Delicately, he eases his fingers into my gown and stops moving his lips with mine, his breath hitting my lips.
I open my eyes and find his shut in content as his fingers move across the fabric of my briefs, mesmerising the texture of the fabric before moving my abdomen, noting the texture of my skin until he stops.
I did it wrong, right? I was supposed to be naked and not put myself through the challenge of wearing lingerie whereas it would be gone in a minute.
His eyes snap open and something primal stirs deep within my body, dilated midnight blue eyes take in my hungry brown eyes. He tears the gown open and eases it off my body, throwing it somewhere in the corner of the room.
“God fúcking bless my fúcking beautiful wife.”
He rid his body of the gown and I couldn’t help but stare at that old friend of mine.
So we meet again, amico?
Mason presses one last sloppy kiss on my lips before dipping down to my hip and unclasping the garter, his lips kissing the soft skin. He does the same to the other hip and begins to kiss down my skin as he takes the fishnets down. My body was increasing in temperature and seeing him kiss my feet and sucking on my toes sent my body into an erotic frenzy.
I’ve read romance books countless times where the man makes it his mission to appreciate every inch of skin on his patron but no one could beat Mason DeLuca. His eyes were shut in utter content, kissing my up my thigh before placing an innocent kiss on my pubic bone. If only I had my phone to make picturesque memories of this man’s burning eyes as he kisses my pubic bone while taking down my underwear in the process.
“Mason,” I groan lowly but Mason doesn’t abide and instead, he takes his own lead and unbuckles my bra, sending cool air to harden my swollen buds.
“Perfezione mia,” he grunts taking one swollen nub into his mouth and right then all pleasure struck my wet cavern of heat, composure was the last thing on my mind.
"Per favoure," I beg as he envelopes the other hardened bud into his hot wet mouth, lapping and sucking until I could hold no more.
“Say it again,” he whispers spreading my legs wide and kissing the inside sensitive skin of my thigh “say it again micio.”
I couldn’t find my speech but when his lips found my bundle of nerves all my Google translator Italian came out, ”per favoure, cara. Mi amore, per favoure! Non fermanti!"
I writhe, quiver, thrash at his mouth but he merely grabs hold of my rear and wraps my legs around his head. The torture was delicious, beautiful and the sighting of something I thought was taken away from me the minute I fled the motel was suddenly near. My lips burn due to my constant biting and my fingers wove themselves deep into his hair, steering him to the place I so much desired.
The sighting of my beautiful high ducks my fingers as soon as Mason lifts his head up, looking incredibly rugged and sexy. His looks proved to be the last thing on my mind the minute I begged him to go back, begged him to make me feel complete.
Mason positions himself between my thighs, a thin film of perspiration lining his skin and he keeps his eyes open while sinking deep into me. I gulp, making him freeze in the spot before panting erratically.
“Cara,” he panics although sinking deeper before stopping “cara mia, your eyes.”
After a second-long battle, my eyes open and Mason looked as though he had just murdered a cat.
“Too,” he sinks in deeper and I clutch his large biceps, huffing out some air I know should be staying in my lungs ”big.”
“Tesoro, we could stop –”
"No,” he sinks in much further and a baritone groan leaves my lips “want. More.”
I could feel my body shifting to accommodate his immense girth and the emotions writhing deep within me made this a hard task.
He sinks in further, fully now and my eyes tore open at the spot he just hit. He notices my reaction and continues to make love to me with his midnight black brows pinched in pleasure and mouth parted open.
"More.” I beg but he refused to increase his beautiful slow strokes that made his name the only thing on my tongue.
I kiss him, swallowing his low groans for my own satisfaction as we made love to Sade coaxing us to bliss. My gorgeous high was drawing nearer and his throbbing muscle told me that his was approaching too. A lot of things enter my mind while our moans filled the room. Memories of the motel strike me hard as I remember him doing the same, refusing to savage my body but rather appreciate it as though it was a rare jewel.
Forget all the attractive Italian women you’ve been with.
Forget all your pain.
Let I be the only thing on your mind, tongue, lips –
My back arches to a sultry melody of my old friend, beautiful climax. My legs were vibrating, my whole body racketing as if to soak up as much of this experience as it possibly could. Mason’s thrusts became more vigorous, sending me on a permanent stay on my high cloud until he became undone, enticing a much smaller high that sent me on an even higher cloud.
I had no words to say and later found sweet tears on my cheeks after calming down my body and evening out my breathing. My chest rose and fell, like Mason’s but as soon as he kissed me feverishly his old mate swelled again.
“N-no,” I mutter breathlessly, even though the idea to go again was arousing but I needed to breathe “Mason...”
“Micio,” he mutters with hurried pants and a lopsided grin “I will take you again, much later but for now rest.”
I smile lazily, arching up to return his kiss before cuddling to his side, my eyes fluttered shut.
“You have always been and will be the only woman I think about...”
Could I have said everything out loud?