Before I could find the words to express my horror and rage, he crushed his lips to mine. I lashed out, shoving at his solid chest. He didn’t seem to notice my fury. Or maybe it simply didn’t matter to him. He nipped at my lips, demanding that I open for him. I resisted, so he fisted my hair and pulled sharply, forcing a gasp from me. His tongue surged into my mouth, claiming me mercilessly.

Heat flooded my cheeks, my chest, my stomach. It bloomed between my legs, and I hated that my anger was tinged with traitorous arousal.

Before he forced me to melt for him, he released me from his savage kiss, satisfied at my surrender.

“Go get ready,” he ordered, his features stern and forbidding. “You have a busy day ahead of you.”

He finally pulled away completely, giving me space to breathe. I hesitated, clutching the sheets to cover my breasts. He was staring right at me. If I got out of bed, he’d see my naked body.

“Go on.” His deep voice resonated through the room, brooking no argument.

Hating him, I tossed the covers aside and got to my feet. I didn’t look at him as I stalked toward the bathroom. When I passed him, stinging pain bloomed on my bottom, and a loud smack reverberated around us. He’d spanked me again. Like a naughty child.

My entire body burned with humiliation and something darker that I refused to acknowledge. I scooted away from him and slammed the bathroom door between us, leaning against it to heave in several deep breaths. The bathroom smelled like his cologne; it saturated the humid air that was still heavy from his shower.

The man filled my senses, was under my skin. I was still sore where he’d buried himself deep inside me. My husband had staked his claim, and tonight, he would show off his trophy. Everyone would know that I was his: Nora Vitale.

One of Luca’s guards, Gabriele, had watched me all day, ensuring I was a good little wife and planned my forced reception. I’d performed my tasks with poise and dignity, not betraying an ounce of the fear that made my insides squirm every time I caught sight of the menacing mountain of a man. Just like my father’s cruel guards, I was certain Gabriele wouldn’t hesitate to beat me if I disobeyed.

So, I had helped plan a beautiful wedding reception. By the time I’d left the ballroom, it was festooned with pink and white roses, and the band was setting up for the evening. Now, I was putting on the last brushes of my makeup, making myself perfectly presentable in my tea length white dress. It was lovely, covered in delicate lace and seed pearls, with a sweetheart neckline that barely hinted at my cleavage. The whole image maintained an illusion of modesty.

It was too late for that. Luca had already claimed my innocence.