Adriana

“You want that, baby? You want me to fuck your mouth like my whore?”

I was panting, drooling, naked on my knees, and I whispered hoarsely around his cock, “Yes, sir.”

That was all it took. His cock rammed into my throat in one brutal thrust, and I gagged, choking, eyes streaming.

He didn’t stop. He pulled me down again, harder, deeper, his grip on my hair turning punishing as he used my mouth without mercy.

Each intrusion was violent, his cock battering my throat until I couldn’t breathe, my moans spilling out broken and desperate.

“I like watching you like this, Adriana,” he growled, his pace savage. “Looking so fucking slutty with my cock down your throat.”

I reached for his balls, massaging them gently as tears blurred my vision, and he whimpered… Matteo whimpered as his thrusts turned erratic.

His voice broke into a chant of my name, guttural and ragged, until suddenly he groaned loud and long, and I felt it.

Hot, thick cum shot down my throat in heavy spurts, endless and overwhelming.

I swallowed greedily, drinking him down, even as more spilled past my lips.

The taste was salty and intoxicating, and when he jerked his hips, forcing more into my mouth, I moaned around him, humiliated and euphoric.

“Fuck, princess… you’re such a good girl,” he rasped, still grinding into my mouth, milking every drop.

He didn’t stop until the last of his release pulsed out, and then finally, he yanked my head back.

My mouth popped off his cock, strings of spit and cum dripping down my chin. My lips were swollen, my throat raw, but his hand in my hair held me steady, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Do you like the way I taste, my Adriana?” His voice was low, dangerous.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice wrecked.

He kissed me then… hungry, messy, unrelenting.

His tongue pushed into my mouth like he was tasting himself on me. I moaned, panting into him, my body trembling with need, until he pulled me up and into his lap.

His hands were still rough in my hair, his mouth devouring mine, and I melted against him, weak and ruined and wanting more.

The jet dipped lower, preparing to land, but all I could think about was him. His taste, his strength, his cock, his words.

I was his filthy little princess, and I’d never wanted to belong to him more.

When he finally set me down, my legs were trembling.

I pulled in a shaky breath and reached for the outfit he’d laid out for me earlier. A soft grey maxi skirt and a long-sleeved blouse in the same shade.

The fabric covered the bruises blooming on my throat, my chest, even the faint marks on my wrists where his grip had branded me.

By the time the jet’s wheels kissed the runway, I was dressed.

Matteo stood, buttoned his shirt, adjusted his cuffs with a precision that made him look untouchable.

When his icy eyes swept over me, lingering on the way the skirt brushed the floor, I swore I saw pride there.

The doors opened, and a rush of warm Miami air spilled into the cabin. Thick with salt, sunlight, and the faint perfume of flowers.

I blinked against the brightness, my heart hammering as music drifted up from below.

Not just any music.

A full Italian band.

Trumpets gleamed in the sun, violins danced through the air, and the rhythmic thrum of a tambourine wove through it all like a heartbeat.

At the foot of the stairs stood men and women dressed in linen whites, holding postcards aloft with my name written across them in elegant looping ink.

Adriana.

The sight rooted me to the spot.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

Roses and lilies lined the pathway from the jet to the cars waiting below, petals tumbling like soft rain across the tarmac… red and white, passion and purity blending into something achingly beautiful.

The melody swelled, and my name seemed to rise with it, carried on every note, every smile, every bow from strangers who greeted me as if I were someone extraordinary.

Matteo’s hand found the small of my back, steady and possessive. “Smile, princess,” he murmured against my ear, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated down my spine. “They’re here to welcome my wife.”

And I smiled because I wanted to.

I stepped down the stairs slowly, the sun catching in the folds of my grey skirt, the fabric rippling in the breeze.

My heart thudded as the band played louder, and I swore I could feel the rhythm through the soles of my shoes.

Each step felt like part of a story I didn’t know I’d been waiting to live… something extravagant, impossible, and mine.

The Miami sky was endless above us, an expanse of pale gold and blue. Matteo walked beside me, his watch flashing in the sunlight, his tailored shirt open at the collar, impossibly calm amid the spectacle he’d created.

Every glance he gave me made the air feel thicker.

By the time we reached the car, I was half-dizzy from the music, the scent of flowers, the sheer thoughtfulness of it all. When I stepped inside, I stopped short.

Tulips. My tulips… blushing pink, my favourite shade. It filled the seats and lined the windows. The air was sweet, light, and intoxicating.

I turned to him, clutching the bouquet to my chest. “How did you…?”

He tilted his head, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his mouth. “I pay attention, princess.”

That did it.

My throat tightened; tears welled before I could blink them back.

I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing him in. The sharp scent of leather and his cologne grounded me amid the chaos of beauty he’d built.

I kissed his cheek, then his jaw, then the corner of his lips. “You shouldn’t have done all this,” I whispered.

“I wanted to.” His tone softened, eyes glinting like pale ice in the light. “I may not make love to you like a princess, baby…” His grin deepened “…but I’ll always treat you like one.”

My cheeks flamed. “Matteo!” I laughed, swatting at his chest.

He caught my wrist, pretending to wince dramatically. “Ah, My violent queen.”

I giggled, shaking my head, still breathless with happiness.

The driver closed the door, muting the sound of the music outside. Inside the car, the hum of the engine began.

Through the tinted windows, I caught the last glimpse of the band waving and playing, the wind scattering petals into the air like confetti.

I leaned into Matteo’s shoulder, tulips in my lap, and exhaled.

For once, there was no weight, no threat, no blood behind the beauty. Just light, laughter, and the soft promise of something new.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Chapter 32

Matteo

I pressed my nose to the tulips, breathing in their soft sweetness until the scent filled my head.

My life with Matteo was chaos. It was dangerous, consuming and unpredictable, but I couldn’t lie. It was also beautiful.

I turned to the window, and for a second, I forgot to breathe.

Miami unfolded outside like a painting

It was a rush of color, light, and rhythm that didn’t seem real.

The sunlight was different here, golden and alive, making everything shimmer. Palm trees lined the wide streets like tall dancers swaying in the breeze, their leaves glittering like emeralds. Below them, sleek cars moved lazily along the highway, flashes of red and black against white marble buildings.

The ocean stretched endlessly to the right, turquoise and silver, so clear I could see the waves folding over themselves. The air looked warm, almost heavy with salt and sun, and I imagined how it might taste on my tongue.

I’d never seen anything like it.

Back home, even the nicest parts of the city felt grey, heavy, old. But here — everything sparkled. The villas, the glass towers, the laughter spilling from open-air cafés. Even the people seemed brighter, walking with that easy confidence that came from knowing the world would bend for them.

Matteo’s hand rested casually on my knee, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. “You like it, don’t you?” he asked, watching me with that faint, knowing smirk.

“I love it,” I said softly, eyes still on the window. “It doesn’t even look real. It’s like… someone painted this place and forgot to stop adding gold.”

He chuckled lowly, his fingers squeezing my knee. “You’ll get used to it, princess. This is your world now.”

My world.

The words hit somewhere deep. I looked down at the tulips in my lap, their pink petals trembling slightly with the car’s motion, and felt a warmth bloom inside me that was equal parts awe and fear. I wasn’t sure if I belonged in this world — of private jets, ocean views, and men who could make music and madness bend to their will — but for the first time, I wanted to try.

Outside, the car slowed as we turned off the main road. Through the tinted glass, I caught a glimpse of the coastline — white villas perched over blue water, balconies draped with bougainvillaea, sunlight glinting off infinity pools.

It felt like stepping into another life entirely.

I turned to Matteo. “Where are we going?”