“I’ll treat her right you know-”

“Oh spare me the bullshit.” Sammie pushes herself off the wall looking at me as if I was the most boring man on earth. “Of course you’ll treat her right. Her father is the North End butcher and you’re already in love with her. The way you look at her-” Sammie gags like she was going to puke and I step back, wanting to avoid my shoes getting ruined.

I’ve learned my lesson with that one.

“Gross.” she muttered stepping out of the elevator as it opens into the penthouse suite that was booked.

Stepping right into chaos.

Becca is on Francesco’s back trying to choke him out as he tries not to hurt her but remove her claws from his skin. Tessa is definitely arm wrestling with Enzo on the couch. Madeline is helping Ilaria get naked in the middle of the-

“ILARIA!”

Her head looks over at me, her soft drunken smile so bright that I forgot she was trying to get naked in front of everyone.

“Hey Demon. Did Becca show you the picture of Francesco where her panties are-”

“DON’T. YOU. FUCKING. DARE.”

Francesco pulls Becca off him, glaring at her as she gives him the same sort of menacing look back. Not taking an ounce of his bad attitude.

Oh boy.

“I think it’s time for bed, principessa. Unless your friends are planning on sneaking away on a private plane again. Which in that case, we have a plan to avoid missing out on any of the fun for the rest of the night.”

Each of us takes out a pair of handcuffs as the girls realize a second too late what was happening.

Only Ilaria laughs as I handcuff myself to her, her eyes shining with the giggles that were coming from her lips. Her arm wrapping around me as she laughed at the way I was acting.

As if she thought insanity looked good on me.

Good thing she brought out the craziest parts.

“Take me to bed, husband.”

Jesus Christ.

I should have cut off the drinks during dinner because as much as I wanted to enjoy Ilaria tonight half her weight was in champagne and I couldn’t have her how I needed her.

How I wanted her.

“Oh Principessa. You’ll be the death of me.”

34ILARIA

The best way to cure a hangover was to continue drinking so that you don’t feel it.

Which I had done all weekend.

Friday had been so much neon and Aquanet and margaritas.

Saturday had been vodka and martinis.

And now that it was Sunday our last full day in Vegas I was planning on drowning in champagne bubbles.

The shower was running and I smirked, glad Dante had taken off the handcuffs.

Which was his mistake.

I texted the group chat knowing today was the day that we were going to meet with the Cartel, after having made contact when we first arrived to set the meeting up, and that had me feeling lightheaded.

Also it was my birthday and the thought of getting older, getting married, everything changing had me feeling emotional.

“Buon compleanno, principessa.”

My eyes lift from the phone to Dante.

A very naked and a very attractive looking Dante walking towards me with his dark hair wet, his beard growing in from a few days without a razor and making me ache, longing for it to brush against my thighs.

Dante seemed to know exactly what I was thinking as he dropped down on the bed, grabbing my ankle, yanking open my thighs as he kissed up my calf. His lips leaving searing trails of heat that pooled wetness at my core.

“Fuck. Dante.”

My hand slid into his hair as I tried to tug him faster along the trail he was taking, wanting him to soothe the ache he was causing between my thighs.

So much drinking and partying meant that moments like this that we had thought we’d get in Vegas hadn’t happened once. The pent up sexual energy was so strong that I thought I was going to explode in need.

“You have hours before your spa day with the girls. Let me worship my bride and take all the time I need to do so.”

His teeth scrape at the skin as I moan, writhing in the sheets for him. Needing more from him as his nose slid over my slit, inhaling me in as I gasp out at the sound he makes, cheeks burning as I blush.

This man had me ready to sell my soul.

“You smell like my dreams.” His tongue part my folds, licking me as my bottom lip got sucked into my mouth. My eyes rolling back as I prayed to every god I could think of to not faint from desire, “Mia dio. Your pussy tastes like heaven, principessa. Tastes like it needs me.”

His hands push up my thighs, his thumbs hooking into my lips and spreading me open. Exposing my pink pussy to his greedy gaze and making him growl, animalistic with need as I watch the way he took in my arousal. How he reacts to my body in a way that makes me squirm.

Dante wanted me most of the time but right now he looks like he was going to go crazy as he let his finger slide, spreading wetness from my hole over my clit as I tremble, helpless under his touch.

It feels so good to be touched by him.

“A week from today you’re going to be so sore from taking my cock all weekend. You’re going to be all full of my cum and begging me to take it easy on you. And god knows I’m sorry because I’m not going to be able to principessa. I’m going to use you up and fuck this hole until you pass out and even then I won’t be able to stop. Do you know why? Because you’re my weakness. You’re my salvation. You’re my everything and I can’t ever get enough of you.”

Part of me wanted to tell him we should practice our wedding  night now, test it out just to make sure all the pieces fit together like they were supposed to.

But we had traditions to uphold.