Vittorio
Eight Months Later
Vittorio adjusted the cuffs of his tux, looking at himself in the mirror one last time. He was a handsome bastard typically, but in a fucking tux? He was fucking gorgeous.
“You ready?” Marcello said from behind, clearing his throat. “There’s still time to run you know. I have a car waiting out front.”
Vittorio laughed as he turned, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.
“No fucking amount of coercion would ever get me to run today.”
Marcello winked.
“I know, but I felt like I had to say it. Damn man, you are getting married today.”
Vittorio grinned, unable to help himself. He was biting the bullet and putting a ring on his finger, taking himself off the market officially. In reality, he had been off the market the day he met Sharon.
“Let’s do this.”
Marcello nodded and opened the door, stepping out first. Together they walked to their spots, next to the officiant. Above, the sun shone brightly, the smell of roses in the air. Their guests were seated before him, a mixture of some of his family and hers. Probably more of his family, considering they were in New York and the number of dark suits that were surrounding the rooftop space.
Still, Vittorio had to give it to Sharon’s parents. They hadn’t even batted an eye when they had put them up in an expensive penthouse suite and Vittorio had gotten a hug, a fucking hug, from her father.
The music swelled, and Vittorio’s mouth suddenly became dry as he saw Sharon at the end of the aisle, dressed in a tight fitting wedding gown, flaring like a princess gown at her waist. Her hair was down, with flowers weaving in and out of her curls. But it was the tears streaming down her face that stopped his heart, causing him to clear his throat at the sudden emotion.
With each step, Vittorio felt more emotion, surprised when his vision became blurred and he was forced to wipe his eyes. This was the woman who had come to him in the unlikeliest of ways, interrupted his life, and forced him to think about what was important. She had fucking stolen his heart without even realizing it and gave him cause for a future, with her.
Sharon reached her spot before him and he gazed at her gorgeous face before taking his fingers and wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“No tears today.”
She smiled.
“I’m sorry. I just… I’m so happy. I can’t believe we are doing this.”
Vittorio took a step closer to her, his smile tender.
“I don’t know why we waited so long.”
Her expression softened, and he leaned down to brush his lips over hers.
“Excuse me. It isn’t time to be kissing the bride.”
Vittorio straightened, giving a sheepish grin to the officiant.
“Sorry. She’s so fucking gorgeous. I couldn’t help it.”
The officiant smiled.
“Well, let’s get you married then.”
Vittorio took Sharon’s hands in his, squeezing them gently as the officiant started the wedding, his eyes locked on hers. This was the woman who would be by his side for the rest of his life, the one who would give him children and would hold his hand during the good times and the bad times.
He couldn’t think of anyone else he would rather share his life with.
***
The music pumped through the ballroom as Vittorio dragged his new wife through the crowd, nodding to their guests who were having a great time on his dime.
Not that he cared.
He had catered to Sharon’s every whim, telling her that money was no object when it came to their wedding and reception, and had even turned down Bill’s offer to pay for it. And, tonight, they would jet off to Italy for a week of rest and relaxation. He couldn’t wait to show Sharon the country.
“Are you sure they won’t miss us?” Sharon was asking as he found an exit, throwing it open.
“I promise,” Vittorio answered, spying a door ahead of them. “Besides your husband needs you.”
Sharon sighed happily.
“I can’t believe we actually got married.”
Vittorio felt the foreign circle around his finger, grinning all the same. Sharon had told him that he didn’t have to wear a ring, but he had insisted. He wanted everyone to know he was married and happy.
They reached the door and he tried the knob, glad when it turned easily in his hand.
“It’s a supply closet,” Sharon said. “Thank god I changed out of the other gown or we wouldn’t have fit.”
Vittorio spun her into the closet and shut the door, trapping her between his body and the closed door.
“I would have made us fit. God, I want you so badly.”
Her hand found his cheek in the dark and caressed it.
“I love you.”
Vittorio’s hands were already on her hips, sliding the white sheath up.
“I love you too, Mrs. Contarini.”
She moaned as he found her lace panties, pushing them aside so he could slide his finger inside.
“You are already wet.”
“I’ve been thinking about our honeymoon,” she admitted, moving against his finger. “I don’t think I want to wait until then.”
“Good,” Vittorio groaned, his hand going to his fly, pushing the tuxedo pants down so he could replace his finger with his aching cock.
Sharon moaned as he picked her up, sliding her up the door so he could position himself under her. Her hands found his hair and his mouth found hers, swallowing her cries as he moved under her. He didn’t care who heard them.
Sharon slid her arms around his neck as he pounded into her wet pussy, feeling her orgasm squeeze the life out of his cock with each thrust. After a night apart, he was ready to make up for the lost time.
“Oh god,” Sharon breathed, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Vittorio.”
“Sharon,” he growled as he let go, pouring his cum into her, his wife.
Fuck yeah that sounded real good.
THE END