No wedding is without some form of drama, and mine came three days before the big day. It started with my mother calling me, tearing a strip off me because I didn’t personally call her to tell her about my engagement to Ivo. My mother hasn’t spoken to me since Guido’s funeral, and yet she has the nerve to insist that Ivo and I have dinner at their home the very next night.
I was all for refusing the invitation, but Ivo decided it would be a show of good faith, and he was curious to know my parents better. The evening went from bad to worse.
It starts the moment we arrive.
“Elisa, bella, what a quaint dress,” Mom says. Translation: I don’t like what you’re wearing. What on earth are you thinking? This is followed by an air kiss to each of my cheeks. Ivo gets a much warmer greeting, mainly in an attempt to impress the capo’s consigliere.
My father speaks to me a total of two times while we visit. The first is to offer congratulations on our upcoming nuptials. Most of the evening, Dad and Ivo speak of business, and, after a very formal and polite dinner, the men retire to Dad’s den, while my mother continues to badger me about the details of the wedding.
The only ray of sunshine of the night is when my brother, Leno, arrives home. Dad and Ivo return to the living room for coffee, but as soon as Dad sees Leno, he throws question after question at his son, all related to work.
“You checked the warehouse?” Dad asks.
“All secure, Dad,” Leno answers.
“The deal with the new dealer?” Dad persists.
“Done,” Leno replies with a huff.
This goes on for quite a while until Ivo interrupts. “It seems that Leno has things under control.” Ivo puts a hand on Leno’s shoulder. “You’re doing good work.” I can see Leno’s chest puffs up with pride. I smile brightly at my brother, and he gives me a friendly wink.
The highlight of the night is when Dad speaks to me for the second time. “I expect you’ll be coming home the night before the wedding. It’s the proper thing to do.” He says this like it’s a foregone conclusion.
“I won’t, Dad. This is my second marriage. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I’m not an eighteen-year-old bride leaving my mother and father’s house for the first time.”
His eyes fill with fury. “Unacceptable,” Dad begins. “What will people say!”
Of course, it’s always been about what the gossipmongers will say and never about what I want. “Ivo and I have made our own decisions. I’m wearing a gown of my choosing.” I turn to my mother. “It’s not white or cream or champagne.”
“I should hope not!” my mother exclaims.
Then I drop the bomb. “I’m walking down the aisle of the church alone.”
“You insult your father in his own home!” my father shouts.
I’m ready to grab my purse and walk out, and I would have if Ivo didn’t come to my rescue. “You speak of propriety, yet you want to insult the memories of those who have passed. We’ve made decisions based on doing the right thing for all involved. Should you choose not to attend your daughter’s wedding, that will be up to you. But consider how this will look to all in attendance.”
Dad clears his throat, and concedes, not because he agrees, but because Ivo won’t be swayed, and he’s not going to argue with Raffaele’s consigliere. We depart shortly after that.
It’s now my wedding day, and instead of leaving my home alone for the last time, Evangeline and I are getting ready in a private room in the church. All my personal belongings have been picked up and taken to Ivo’s home and will be waiting for me there.
Adriana looks like the prettiest princess in her soft, pink, frilly dress with puffy sleeves. Evangeline and I found a little tiara that wasn’t over the top and looks lovely with her hair up in a tight ballerina bun. She’s taking her role as flower girl seriously as she holds the basket of pink and cream rose petals in her hands.
Evangeline fusses around my dress and makes sure I’m looking my best as we stand behind the doors that open to the church. All our guests have arrived, including my parents. My brother comes to find me to give me a kiss good luck and hands me a lace handkerchief that belonged to my grandmother.
“Does Mom know you took this?” I ask him, wide-eyed. Mom keeps our grandmother’s keepsakes hidden away since her passing. There’s nothing of any great value, mainly sentimental attachments to the lively, happy woman who used to make us gnocchi on our birthdays. I’m still waiting for my mother to give me the cameo pin that Nonna Dina left me. Mom says she’s keeping it safe for me anytime I ask for it. I stopped asking after the umpteenth time. I believe it’s her way of staying connected to her mother, although I’d like to have a little bit of Nonna with me to remember her by.
“Shh! She won’t even miss it,” Leno says, then goes to find his seat next to our parents.
The music begins. Ivo’s waiting for me at the altar. The moment has arrived.
I stand with Raffaele by my side as I wait for my bride to come down the aisle. There’s no one else I would want to have next to me except my best friend. We’ve been through the best and worst of times together, and it’s only fitting that he’s here with me now.
The room is lined with our best soldiers standing as sentries in case there’s trouble. It’s already happened at several weddings, one being when Raffaele snuck into Valentina’s room at the church to deliver a message for Alessio Cassini. It was all meant as a friendly warning from Raffaele, but it caused a scene. Who would have thought it would be the beginning of a mutual alliance with the other Mafia families?
Unfortunately, at other nuptials, there have been shootings, some resulting in deaths. There used to be honor among the Mafia clans, where wives and children were off-limits, but that’s all changed, and the enemy takes great pleasure in causing the most pain by killing what you hold dear. Add to that the rising gangs and their attempts to encroach on our territories, and the violence has escalated. Hence, we have the church surrounded.
The heavy wooden doors open, and Evangeline walks down the aisle looking as lovely as ever. She spares a glance for me, but her eyes lock with her husband’s. Raffaele maintains his stoic expression, but I notice the merest hint of a smile, which he locks down quickly before anyone can see.
Adriana is literally skipping down the aisle with a basket in hand. She reaches in and strews the rose petals along the white runner lining the aisle. She stops to wave at Francesco and then again at Massimo. Massimo waves her forward, reminding her she still has a job to do. Adriana’s giggle echoes in the church.
Adriana comes to stand before me. I get down on my haunches, and she gives me a big hug. “Did I do good, Daddy?” she whispers.
“The best flower girl I’ve ever seen,” I tell her. Evangeline calls Adriana to stand with her, and as the music changes, we all turn to face the aisle.
Elisa begins walking toward me, carefully watching where she’s going, but then she raises her face, and her eyes meet mine. She’s nervous. I can see her fingers clutching her bouquet. A classic beauty; my beauty. She finally makes it to me and takes my extended hand, and I guide her to stand before Father Robert.
The priest asks, “Who gives this woman in marriage?”
Without hesitation, Elisa responds, “I give myself to Ivo Avante.” Her voice is soft but clear. I hear a grumble from the pew where Elisa’s family sits. I guarantee her father is fuming at being pushed aside from walking her down the aisle.
Father Robert keeps the ceremony short and sweet, as we discussed when Elisa and I came to ensure the date was available. Not that it would have been an issue, because I made a very generous donation to the church ensuring there would be no hiccups.
The priest blesses our wedding bands, and Raffaele places Elisa’s in my hand. I repeat the words, “I, Ivo Avante, take you, Elisa, for my wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. Take this ring as a symbol of my love and fidelity.” I slide the ring onto her finger. Elisa takes the ring from Raffaele and says her vows, binding us together for eternity.
“You may now kiss the bride,” Father Robert says.
I’ve never been one for public displays of affection, but since the moment Elisa told me she was going to be mine in every sense of the word, I’ve had a hard time keeping my hands off her. I cup her face with my hands and lower my lips to hers, keeping our kiss light. I know that if I kiss her the way I want to, I won’t be able to stop.
Elisa’s eyes slowly flutter open. She was expecting more, and she’ll get it, but not in front of an audience. “Patience, regina mia,” I murmur in her ear. Elisa is mine now, totally and completely.
Adriana rushes over to us. “Daddy, are we a family now?”
“Yeah, baby girl, we’re a family.” I bend down and pick her up in my arms, then take Elisa’s hand. We walk as a family up the aisle, with Raffaele and Evangeline following close behind.
As we decided to keep the guests to a minimum, we chose to move along to the reception without stopping to receive congratulations after the ceremony. Elisa has done a fabulous job organizing the venue. Tasteful elegance are words I’d use to describe the room prepared for our luncheon.
Adriana clings to Elisa the entire time. Elisa holds Adriana’s hand as we attend to our guests at their table to thank them for coming. Raffaele asked that the capos from Il Destino, La Famiglia, and Nostra Casa be invited, and all have arrived.
Marco Moretti and his wife, Gloria, along with Reno and his wife, Anna, are sitting with Alessio and his wife, Josephine. When I recall the bitter war that seethed between these families, I never thought it possible that they would all be celebrating together.
“Mrs. Avante, you’re a beautiful bride,” Marco Moretti says, taking Elisa’s hand in his.
“Please, call me Elisa,” she replies. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Marco does the introductions around the table, and the ladies pull out a chair for Elisa to join them. Elisa sits and puts Adriana on her lap.
Raffaele and Evangeline are taking Adriana home with them, giving Elisa and me our first night alone. I love my daughter, but I’ve been waiting a long time to have Elisa all to myself, and since her confession, I’ve thought of nothing else but making her mine.
Raffaele is speaking with Alessio when I approach.
“Elisa and I will be going soon,” I tell him.
“Adriana is safe with me. Make your exit,” Raffaele replies. We understand each other. Once we’re gone, Raffaele will spread the word that the event has come to an end.
I’ve had weeks of cold showers and jerking off to the thought of Elisa naked in my bed. For hours, I’ve been watching my wife flit around the room being the perfect hostess in a dress I want to rip off. I want to unwrap my bride. I’m done waiting. I head over to where she is and slide my arm around her waist.
“It’s time to leave,” I say.
“Our guests are still here,” she replies, looking around the room.
“Don’t care. They can stay and eat and drink all night for all I care.”
“Are you all right?” she asks, searching my face.
“Yeah. I’m just done with pretending I care what they think.”
“Then, let’s go.” Elisa places her hand in mine. “We have to tell Adriana we’re leaving.”
“Adriana is staying with Uncle Rafe and Aunt Evangeline tonight. I’ve already seen to her.”
“Oh, okay.” Elisa reaches for her clutch with her free hand. “Ready.”
Elisa waves at Adriana as we leave. Massimo is waiting for us by the car. I’d like to disappear with Elisa alone, but enemies are waiting for a weak moment, and I won’t give it to them.
Ivo’s home is warm and inviting. I’ve visited many times in the last few months. I believe in respecting people’s space and have never wandered the halls. I’ve tucked Adriana in several times, and I know that Ivo’s bedroom is right next door, simply because Adriana told me so.
It’s still early evening when we arrive home. Home, wow! I have a new home. I’m Mrs. Elisa Avante. I’ve been called that several times today and I still can’t believe it. This is all becoming very real. Married to Ivo with an adorable new daughter, living on the property owned by Raffaele Di Morte.
“Elisa?” Ivo calls my name.
I spin around to face my husband. “Yes?”
“I’m not going to pounce on you.” His lips turn up in a sly smile, “And I don’t bite…much,” he teases.
I understand he’s trying to assuage my nerves, but the butterflies in my stomach aren’t cooperating. “Okay,” I manage to say, very unconvincingly, I might add.
“I’ll show you to our room. You can change out of your dress, and we can sit and relax for a while.” He motions for me to climb the stairs and leads us to the bedroom. It’s much larger than I imagined, with a king-sized bed taking up a fair amount of space. The heavy dark wood of the headboard padded with black leather screams that a man lives in this room. The rest of the furniture is of the same dark wood, with simple, clean lines. The duvet is the only hint of femininity, mainly cream with a black spiral pattern that softens the room.
Ivo opens the door that leads to the walk-in closet. “I’ve moved my clothes to this side. The rest is yours,” he says, then points to the drawers in the bureau. “These are empty and for your use. Your bags are in the spare room. I thought you’d be more comfortable unpacking on your own.”
He’s right. I would hate for anyone to go through my personal belongings. “Thank you.”
Ivo eyes me curiously and comes to stand in front of me, so close that I have to tilt my head back to look at him. “Are you afraid of me, regina mia?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You’re as nervous as a cat.”
“Maybe a little.”
Ivo sits on the edge of the bed, taking me with him. “Tell me what’s on your mind. Do you think I’ll hurt you?”
The jumble of nerves inside me explodes, and I blurt out, “I don’t know what I’m doing. The most I’ve done is kissing, and Guido and I tried twice to, um, you know.” I’m rambling, but I can’t seem to stop talking. “And that didn’t work. He got frustrated and upset, and I keep thinking maybe it was my fault. He said it wasn’t, but I can’t know for sure. What if all this time he could, and he wasn’t attracted to me?” I try to stand, but Ivo has a hold on me, and suddenly, I’m on my back with Ivo hovering over me.
“You’re fucking gorgeous. For months, I’ve been itching to strip you naked and bury myself between your legs. It’s been torture to have you close and not touch you. That night, at the restaurant, in the dress you were wearing, I thought I was going to lose my mind with all the men ogling your tits and ass.” He strokes the column of my throat and glides his hand over my bare shoulder as he stares down at my breasts. “I’ve been dreaming about sucking on your nipples until you beg me to fuck you senseless.”
With that, he tugs on the material of my gown, exposing a nipple, and licks his lips.
“Ivo!” I gasp, then his mouth closes over my nipple. My fingers in his hair clutch him to me. Wetness pools between my thighs.
A hand sneaks under the hem of my dress and skims over my leg and upward to my outer thigh. A delicious tremor runs through me, but Ivo doesn’t stop there, and his hand covers my wet panties.
“Fuck me! You’re wet for me,” he growls. He cups my core. The heat of his hand is exhilarating as his tongue twirls around my nipple, causing me to moan his name.
All of a sudden, his mouth and hand are gone, and I’m staring into dark eyes filled with fire. He gets up and tugs me to stand, turning me so that my back is to him. His fingers find the zipper of the dress, and he undoes it easily, letting the dress slip down and onto the floor. Since the dress didn’t allow for a bra, I’m left in my tiny white panties and high-heeled shoes.
I hear the rustle of clothes and know he’s undressing. When he spins me around, he doesn’t give me a chance to think, but kisses me with such passion that I feel it in my bones. A long, wet, languorous kiss that I can’t get enough of. My knees hit the bed, and I topple backward. Ivo follows. His lips trail a path over my cheek, to the sensitive spot on my neck, while his hand slips into my panties and his finger glides through the folds of my pussy.
My breath hitches, and I emit a groan of pleasure as his thumb finds my clit. Ivo nips at my lobe. “Have you ever touched yourself like this, baby?” My body tingles all over as his deep voice rumbles in my ear. “Answer me,” he demands.
“I…I have a toy,” I mumble, raising my hips to get closer to him.
“What kind of toy?” His teeth close gently over my nipple, and I can feel myself growing wetter.
“I can’t think,” I moan.
“Tell me, or I’ll stop,” he threatens with a devious grin.
Dear God, if he stops now, I’ll die!
“A bullet,” I groan.
“One day, I’m going to spread your pretty thighs and use it on you myself and watch you come undone,” he says. “But tonight, I want to taste that pussy before I make you mine.”
With one swift yank, my panties are tossed aside, and instead of his hands between my legs, his mouth is on me, lapping at my pussy.
“No! No! No!” I cry. “You can’t.” My fingers dig into his scalp, tugging at his hair. Ivo pulls my hands away and clamps them down by my side.
“This is my pussy, and I’ll do what I like with it,” he says with a grin, then presses his lips over my clit and sucks gently. He twirls his tongue around and around until I’m bucking beneath him, but can’t move with his heavy hand holding me down.
I’ve only orgasmed on my own, but it was nothing like this. Then his fingers slide through my folds as he continues to eat me. I feel a digit push inside me gently, pumping in and out while his mouth continues its assault.
I’m so close to an orgasm, right on the cusp. I beg for him to let me come. “Please, Ivo. Please,” I plead. “I need more.”
His mouth is gone, as are his fingers, as he crawls between my thighs. He laces his hands with mine, holding them on either side of my head.
“Do you give yourself to me?” he asks.
Oh my God, he’s recalling what I said at the ceremony. I’ve already given myself to him. I answer, “Yes,” breathlessly. His cock slides through the wetness of my pussy.
“Say it,” he demands, staring deeply into my eyes.
“I give myself to you,” I whisper. I feel his tip at my entrance.
“All of you?”
“All of me.” I barely get the words out before he thrusts inside with one stroke. It aches so much, tears well in my eyes. I turn my head away, and he buries his face in my neck.
“There was no way to avoid the pain your first time,” he murmurs in my ear. “Don’t move. Give your body time to adjust.” He kisses my neck and cheek, kissing away a single tear. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs.
I take a deep breath and do as he says. The pain subsides, and he slowly pulls out a little and begins to thrust in and out. The pain is replaced by an electric jolt of need, and soon, I find myself writhing beneath him. He hastens his pace, moving in and out faster and harder, but it’s still not enough. I arch my back, and he latches onto my nipple, suckling gently.
Suddenly, I’m spiraling through the heavens, stars bursting in an intense orgasm like none that I’ve ever experienced. It’s like floating through the clouds, so blissful that I never want to land. I hear Ivo grunting and moaning. I open my eyes just in time to see his expression of desire as he lets loose and buries himself deep inside me, releasing a roar of satisfaction. He’s the most magnificent man I’ve ever seen. And yet, in his way, he is being tender with me. His hand disconnects from mine and caresses my cheek. His lips close over mine in a soft, sweet kiss.
With his cock still inside me, he whispers, “I’ll always take care of you.”
“I know,” I reply, my lips trembling. My emotions are running high. I’ve always imagined my first time, but nothing I ever dreamt of could compare to this moment of perfection.