I pull her closer, sliding my hands behind her, one against the small of her back, the other between the blades of her shoulders, until I can feel every curve of her body pressing into mine. Her head tilts back and she smiles up at me. “What are you doing?” she laughs, wrapping her hands around my neck. “You are not supposed to be in here right now, mister.”

My eyes drop to the long smooth expanse of her throat and I bend down, pressing my lips to it. “I just needed a little break from the chaos outside,” I breathe against her skin. Her body shivers.

“What kind of a break?” she asks.

“The kind where I’m deep inside you and you’re clawing your nails down my back.”

“I do really like those kinds of breaks,” she whispers, nuzzling into me and dropping her hands to the buckle of my belt.

I groan into her as she unbuttons my pants and immediately grasps my cock with her hands. My God, the smell of her hair and the silky touch of her hands on me, I’ll never get enough of.

I tilt my head up, just to take a moment to stare down at her.

My Giana.

Alive.

She pulls her hands up and pushes me back, smiling. “You, Corrado, are staring at me again.”

“Can’t help myself.”

“But it’s been months,” she says, blinking up at me.

“But you’ve been dead for ten years.”

She shakes her head, smiling. We joke about it now, all these months later. We have to, we’re both all out of tears.

“So you just want to look at me, huh?”

I nod, darting my eyes all over her gorgeous face.

Her expression transforms as she picks up her cell from off her desk. Her features turn coy and she’s pretending to ignore me.

Okay, I’ll play her game. I fold me arms across my chest and wait.

That’s when I hear it. The music box intro of the song she just pressed play on. The song she used to dance to.

She slides her phone across the top of the desk and her body starts swaying to the cadence of the song.

She doesn’t dance in the club anymore. There’s not even a club to dance in, but she does still dance for me. Only for me.

Her arms reach behind her back and she unzips her dress. It’s strapless and silky, full of lace and whatever that stuff is that makes it puff up. She spins slowly, her hips moving like liquid, and the dress gradually, inch by inch, slips down over her skin until it falls to her feet. She’s completely naked underneath save for the blood-red heels.

All I can do is stare. Just watch her move.

“Song is on a loop,” she whispers, “so you can take your time and fuck me to the rhythm.”

Still can’t stop staring. My gaze trails over every inch of her skin. From her teardrop breasts, down her flat stomach, to the naked V of her pussy, and the curve of her ass.

I can’t take my suit off fast enough.

There’s a knock at the door, a pounding. “Hey, Boss, you in there?”

She giggles and lifts her ass onto the edge of her desk. “I’ll be out in a minute!” she calls out, spreading her legs wide.

“Just a minute?” I smirk, shaking my head. “If we get a minute now, I need about two hours right after the ceremony.”

“We both totally make out in this deal,” she smiles.

She keeps her eyes pinned to mine, looking up at me through her impossibly long lashes, when I slide my cock inside her.

There’s more pounding at the door. “Just so you know, the guests are taking their seats.” The voice is coming from Michael, who used to be the bouncer at the club. Now he’s our food and beverage director. But right now, his voice is going to make me lose wood. Let the guests take their seats and fucking wait. Just for a minute. Or two.

“Michael! Shut up for one minute,” I call out, laughing.

She covers a hand over her mouth to stop her own laughing.

“Lay back on the desk,” I say, as I lift her ass up to angle deeper inside her.

“Oh God, Corey,” she breathes.

I still can’t stop staring at her.

“You’re really…you’re so beautiful,” I whisper, running my finger over her neck and down her chest, pulling my cock in and out of her in long, slow pumps. She’s got her hair all up in curls, small white pearls and roses decorating it, and fuck me hard, she’s got a strand of white pearls around her neck. She’s the most gorgeous bride I’ve ever seen.

“Come here,” she says, pulling me down on top of her and wrapping her legs around my waist. “Fuck me,” she says against my lips.

I thrust my cock inside her hard and she moans out my name. I pin her arms down and ride into her over and over, faster and faster, burying myself inside her until her heels fall off her feet and the desk is thudding up against the back of her office.

Other voices are in the hallway now, Candy—now Candace—needing to know if we’ll be much longer and where all the bridesmaids’ bouquets are.

They’re on the other side of the desk I’m fucking Giana on.

And I wish Candace and Michael would both shut the fuck up and stay in the restaurant to meet all the guests and let me continue to fuck my soon-to-be wife in peace.

We’re having the wedding in the restaurant—our family restaurant—the restaurant our fathers used to have. We might even be late for our own wedding. I don’t care at the moment. We only have a minute—less than a minute left and I’m driving into her so hard and fast, that I can feel my balls harden and my orgasm building and building.

I need to hold it off. But knowing Giana Acerbi is going to be my wife in a few minutes gets me hotter than fuck. Being with Giana gets me hotter than fuck.

She’s alive.

She’s perfection, and I’m inside her, always trying to me inside her. I don’t give a fuck about anything else in this life but her. Being with her. Fuck the guests. They can wait.

“Harder,” she moans. “God, I love the way you touch me.” She’s trembling underneath me, saying words I can barely understand, panting and gasping and moaning my name.

“Giana, God, I just love you.” And we’re kissing so hard it’s close to being violent, savage. We’re bruising each other’s skin and the desk is slamming and slamming into the fucking wall.

She tightens around me, shattering beneath me, crying out against my mouth.

And I’m coming, deep inside her, spilling into her and instantly scheming the next time I can get back inside her.

We dress in silence, watching each other. She pauses the music on her phone and just outside the office we hear the soft violins begin playing for the guests.

“Are you ready to become my wife?” I ask.

She smiles at me.

Both of us know the huge shoes we have to fill, the business that has to be run. This isn’t just our wedding, our promise to love each other for the rest of our lives, but this is a promise to our family—to never let anything or anyone hurt the family or our organization ever again.