Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 16

Chapter 16

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She sniffed once, then shook her head. “I won’t cry.” Then she tilted her chin, peering up at me. “Why do even care? You’ve seen worse than someone crying.”

you

And she wasn’t wrong. I had seen worse. I’d caused worse. Torture, blood, begging men- hell, I’d stepped over corpses without blinking. And yet here, with this trembling young woman looking at me like I held her whole future in my hands, it was different. Valentina was young…too young. She was my wife now, bound to me by tradition, by vows, by expectations. She was supposed to be the woman who would raise my children. And she was sitting here in front of me, bracing herself for something she clearly didn’t feel ready for.

Fuck. What a mess.

Her gaze shifted away from me, like she was staring at something only she could see, lost in a place I couldn’t follow. I didn’t like it. I wanted her here with me, not retreating into her head where fear could multiply.

“Valentina,” I murmured, and the sound of her name pulled her back. She blinked, and her eyes found mine again. “Help me with this.”

She hesitated, chewing on her lip, then finally nodded.

Relief loosened the tension in my chest. I lowered my head and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Then I kissed her again, a little firmer. On the third try, Valentina’s lips moved tentatively against mine, almost shy. I caught her plump lower lip between mine, sucking on it lightly. A small sound escaped her, almost a whimper, and her eyes fluttered closed. My tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her for the first time, and Christ! She was so damn sweet it felt dangerous, like I’d get drunk on her.

My palm slid carefully up her side, resting just beneath her ribs, testing her reaction.

Her eyes flew open,

and she gave a tiny flinch. I immediately pulled back a little, breaking the kiss so she could see my face. Slowly, deliberately, I stroked my hand down her side, then back up again, like a wordless promise that I would handle her with care.

“Will you let me undress you?” I asked.

She hesitated again, then gave another of those quiet nods.

I shifted back onto my knees and helped her sit upright. My fingers found the hem of her nightgown, brushing over her thighs before sliding upward. When I tugged gently, she lifted her arms without protest, and I drew the silk fabric over her head. The delicate thing dropped onto the floor in a useless puddle, forgotten.

Valentina’s arms immediately crossed over her chest in a self conscious shield. She worried her lip between her teeth, then with visible effort, lowered her arms, letting me see her.

And God, she was breathtaking. Her breasts were soft, high, perfectly shaped, and the sight of her bare in front of me sent a pulse of raw desire through me.

I reached out, slowly, making sure she could see my every movement, and traced my knuckles down the center of her chest, between those delicate curves. Her skin erupted in goosebumps under the featherlight

touch.

18:45 Thu, Nov 6 ..

Chapter 16

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She twitched, wrinkling her nose in a way that would’ve been comical if the moment weren’t so charged. She let out a breathy sound, fighting back what I could tell was a giggle. Her cheeks were flushed pink.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, embarrassed.

“No,” I said. My hand lingered against her warm skin. “Don’t apologize. I’d rather see you smile than see you cry.”

And right now, thank God, she wasn’t anywhere near tears.

“You’re very beautiful,” I said softly. It wasn’t just words meant to soothe her nerves. It was the truth. But more than that, I didn’t want her shrinking into herself, too self conscious to breathe. That would only make her lock up even more.

The pink tinge on her cheeks deepened, and she whispered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmured, brushing my knuckles along the outside curve of her breast. The effect was instant. Her nipples tightened, pebbling against the cool air. Color flooded her face until her blush spread from her cheeks down her throat, painting her skin like delicate rose petals.

For a fleeting second, I thought back to the night I’d nearly convinced myself to call it all off, to tell Rico she was too young, that this marriage wasn’t right. But standing here, seeing her open and vulnerable, I knew I wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.

I swept my thumb across her nipple. She gasped softly, and parted her lips with her eyes wide open. I did it again, savoring the feel of her against my skin, stifling the groan that threatened to rise from my chest.

“Do you like this?” I asked.

Her lashes fluttered, and she whispered, “Yes. It feels good.”

The honesty in her voice sparked something inside me— relief, desire, maybe even hope. I let my hand travel lower, gliding down the curve of her waist until I reached the edge of her panties.

“Lie back,” I told her.

She obeyed, reclining against the sheets, but her body grew taut, and every muscle pulled tight. Her stomach flexed as though bracing for impact, and she held her breath.

“This isn’t something to fear,” I said gently. “I’m only pulling them down.”

Slowly, I eased the delicate lace down her hips. My chest tightened at the sight revealed to me.

Tradition dictated a bare canvas, a clean slate, and most brides arrived waxed smooth and hairless. But on Valentina, I hadn’t wanted that. It would’ve only made her look younger, too young. Instead, a soft triangle of dark brown hair marked her womanhood, proof of her transition between innocence and maturity.

“I know it’s not what tradition expects,” she whispered nervously. “I didn’t want to…”

“It’s perfect,” I cut her off.

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Her blue eyes lifted to mine, still shy, still uncertain. Her legs pressed tightly together as if she could shield herself from my gaze. I didn’t rush her. I let myself take her in, admiring the beauty she didn’t yet believe she possessed.

Then I bent low, pressing a slow kiss against her belly, just above her navel. Her skin was warm beneath my mouth, faintly trembling, and as I breathed her in, I caught the faint scent of strawberries clinging to her. Lotion, perfume, whatever it was, it clung to her like a signature, Sweet, tender, undeniably Valentina.

Sweet all over. All mine.

“Part your legs for me.”

Her brows pulled together. “Why?”

I fought down the snap of impatience rising in my throat. The stubbornness wasn’t what tested me. It was the fear written all over her face. Her wide eyes, her bitten lip, the uncertainty in every line of her body.

I softened my voice. “Valentina.”

Slowly, hesitantly, she parted her thighs. Barely. Just enough to make a point that this was her choice, not mine. I gave her a moment before nudging her knees wider and moving between them, lowering myself until I was stretched out and staring at the most intimate part of my wife.

18.45 Thu, Havnd

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Chapter 17