His body pressed me down and even through the fabric of my nightgown I could feel his growing erection. “Is that what you want?” he snarled. His eyes were wild with anger, but pain lurked in their depths. Was this hurting him as much as it hurt me?
My chest constricted with unease. I wanted lovemaking and a beautiful fairytale. I was too old to believe in the latter, too realistic to hope for the former.
Some of the anger drained from his expression, regret passing his face and he began to push himself off me. My nails dug into the expensive material of his shirt, wishing it was his skin, desperate to draw blood and give him some of my pain.
I didn’t want him to pull away. I wanted Danilo. I wanted some part of him. Anything. “Remo will always win because he takes what he wants without regard for anyone. He took Fina. Her heart. Her virginity. He took everything.”
Danilo loomed over me, the anger slamming back into place, his breathing becoming louder. “Stop mentioning his name, Sofia.”
“Why? Because he got what you wanted, and now you’re left with someone you don’t want? Someone you don’t even want to touch, much less fuck.” The word burned my tongue and I had to stop myself from grimacing. It wasn’t a word I’d used before. It felt wrong in my mouth.
Danilo shook his head, his body pressing harder into me.
“Take me before someone else does,” I whispered harshly. It was a ridiculous thing to say. No one would touch me, not with Danilo’s safety measures regarding me, but it cut into the wound Remo’s attack had left, opening it up again.
Danilo’s lips came down on mine, but I turned my head away, not wanting a kiss full of anger. My first kiss would be romantic and beautiful, even if that meant it would never happen. He breathed harshly into my ears. “You don’t want this.”
“I do! Don’t pretend you know what I want. Just do your duty and fuck your wife. I bet that’s what Remo’s doing now.”
He growled and I could see his control snapping, his fury bursting forth. I doubted it was directed at me, but I could pretend it was. He tore at his belt and pants until they fell open. I didn’t look, scared I’d lose my courage if I did. I only focused on his face, on the beautiful mask of rage, at the fire in his eyes that almost looked like passion if I didn’t look too closely.
Anger and passion were very similar, I realized then. He didn’t bother to remove his shirt or pants before his hands reached under my nightgown and tugged my panties down. He moved his head lower as if he wanted to kiss me between my legs, but I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any kind of tenderness or affection because it wasn’t the real deal. Not like his anger. That was the only honest emotion Danilo could offer me, and I’d soak it up like a sponge.
“No,” I snapped, my hand shooting out to stop him. “Just do it. Fuck me like Remo fucked Fina.” I felt sick uttering those words, but they had the intended effect.
Danilo shoved back up, his eyes burning into mine with unabashed fury as he reached between us and lined himself up. “You’re going to regret this, but I’m done holding back. If being fucked is what you want, then you can have it. If you want me to be like Remo Falcone, then that’s what you get.” The name fell like a curse from his lips. My nails dug into Danilo’s shoulders, bracing for what was to come, daring him to put an end to this, to us.
Our eyes were locked and the wave of emotion in his held me captive. He looked as if he wanted to destroy everything. Full of anger and pain. His body was stone, frozen. I waited for the pain, wanting to drown in his rage and fury-fueled passion.
I’d fought for his love for years and gotten his anger instead. It had come quick and easy, and I hoped it would kindle my own. I hoped tonight would mark the turning point for me, from love to hatred.
The pain didn’t come. I glared up at Danilo, at the battle in his eyes.
My chest burned with anger and hatred so potent it threatened to make me implode.
Remo. Serafina.
Two names I never wanted to hear ever again. Least of all on my wedding night.
My cock was hard. This was like the anger-fueled fucks of the past, and my body reacted to it as if on autopilot.
Sofia’s nails dug deeper into my shoulder and she let a shaky breath. The sound burst through my fog of fury, shoving it aside to give way for reality. My wife. My young wife who deserved so much better than angry fucking. I wouldn’t do this to her.
Her blue eyes were frozen on mine. She held my gaze with a fierceness that caught me by surprise.
I froze, panting. What the fuck was I doing? Fuck. Why did she push me? Why did I let my emotions get the better of me? I’d almost fucked her out of anger.
My cock softened, overcome with revulsion at my own behavior and confusion over Sofia’s. Her brows furrowed, her lips parted. “What are you doing?” she practically growled. “I thought you wanted to claim me.”
Now that my fury wasn’t leading the show anymore, I detected the insecurity and hurt behind her spiteful tone. I swung my legs out of bed and perched on its edge, far away from my wife. Sofia’s sweet scent mingled with my muskier scent.
I stared down at my soft cock, remembering how it had been covered with Sofia’s blood after the party. I’d sworn to myself then that I’d always treat her right, and just seconds ago I’d almost
