Exposed to the CEO Behind the Mafia Mask

Chapter 186: Chapter 186 Wedding Night Begins

Ivy’s POV

Caleb’s fingers traced through my hair as he carefully lifted the antique diamond tiara from my head, a Thorne family heirloom that had been worn by every Don’s wife for generations. He set it aside on the velvet armchair with the reverence due to such a precious artifact of our bloodline. His lips left mine, and I watched my husband circle me slowly, his gaze burning with an intensity that made my breath catch. Every step he took was deliberate, predatory, like the apex predator he was in our world of shadows and violence.

His hands found my shoulders from behind, his lips following the curve of my neck as he began working the intricate pearl buttons that secured my wedding gown. The dress had been specially designed by the most exclusive couturier in Europe, one who served only the elite families of our dark world. Each touch sent electricity through my skin. One by one, the buttons gave way under his skilled fingers, the same hands that had pulled triggers and signed death warrants now treating me with infinite care.

When the last pearl was freed, he slid his hands to the silken bow at my nape, the one that held the entire masterpiece together. With one smooth motion that spoke of his absolute control, he pulled the ties, and my dress cascaded down my body like falling snow, pooling around my feet in layers of imported French lace and Italian silk. The cool air of our private wing hit my skin, but Caleb’s warmth pressed against my back immediately, his arousal evident as he pulled me against the solid strength that had conquered half the underground world.

He turned my face to capture my lips again, and without breaking our connection, he lifted me free from the tangle of fabric worth more than most people’s homes. Now I stood before him in nothing but the white lingerie I had chosen specifically for tonight, delicate Chantilly lace that left little to the imagination. His eyes roamed over me with an appreciation that made me feel like the most dangerous woman alive, which in our world, I now was.

A wicked smile played at the corners of his mouth as he leaned close to my ear, his voice carrying that familiar edge of possession that had claimed territories across states. ”I think I’ll be keeping these,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. ”Along with the ones from that night at the masquerade ball auction.”

The confession about that night when everything began left me speechless, but happiness bloomed in my chest like I was that vulnerable girl again, hearing declarations of love instead of territorial claims and blood oaths. When I smiled at him, he returned it with such tenderness it was almost impossible to reconcile with the man who had ordered executions just hours before our ceremony.

His mouth found my breasts as his hands slipped along the sides of my panties, slowly peeling them down my legs with the same methodical precision he used when planning strategic strikes against rival families. When he reached my feet, he knelt before me like a subject before his queen, and I steadied myself with a hand on his shoulder as he helped me step out of the delicate fabric.

What he did next made my cheeks burn with the same heat I felt when facing down enemy guns. He brought the lace to his face, breathing in deeply while maintaining eye contact, his ice-blue eyes darkening to something almost feral, the same look he wore when eliminating threats to our family.

”Your scent drives me insane,” he said, his voice rough with the same need that drove him to expand our empire across the East Coast.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on me, kissing and exploring with a devotion that reminded me why he was called the most dangerous man in North America. He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder, his hands steadying me as his tongue worked magic that had me crying out his name, my fingers tangled in his dark hair. The pleasure built and built until it crashed over me in waves, and he took everything I gave him with the same satisfaction he showed when claiming new territory.

He rose quickly, sweeping me into his arms with the same effortless strength he used to carry out his will across our criminal empire, carrying me to our bed that sat in the center of our heavily fortified penthouse. His lips never left my skin as he laid me down gently on sheets imported from the finest mills in Europe, then moved to my feet, unbuckling my designer sandals with the same care he showed our most valuable assets.

From the bed, I watched my husband put on a show that left me breathless. He moved with deliberate slowness, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest marked with scars from territorial wars, the defined muscles of his abdomen that spoke of countless hours training for the violence our life demanded. Every piece of clothing that hit the floor revealed more of the man who was now mine completely, the same body that had survived assassination attempts and rival family vendettas.

When he finally stood naked before me, I couldn’t help but stare. He was magnificent, a living weapon honed by years of underground warfare, and the evidence of his desire for me made my mouth water. Without thinking, I reached for him, and he came willingly, letting me taste him the way he had tasted me, submission and dominance blending in the way only we understood.

His hands fisted in my hair as I took him into my mouth, his quiet moans spurring me on like encouragement during our most dangerous operations. I could feel him losing the ironclad control that made him the most feared Don on the Eastern seaboard, the way his breathing changed, the tension in muscles that had strangled enemies with bare hands. When he tried to pull away, I held him firm, wanting to give him the same pleasure he had given me.

His release came with a groan of my name, and I took everything he offered like I had taken my place at the head of his criminal empire. He collapsed beside me for a moment, that satisfied smile still playing on his lips, before rolling over me, supporting his weight on forearms that bore the tattoos of our family crest.

Our naked bodies pressed together, skin to skin, and the desire that had been simmering through the blood and violence of our courtship reached a fever pitch. ”I need you,” I whispered against his lips, and he needed no further encouragement.

He entered me slowly, both of us gasping at the perfect fit, the way our bodies seemed made for each other like our souls were forged in the same fires of the underworld. For a moment, we simply held still, eyes locked, savoring the incredible feeling of being completely joined as partners in every sense.

”Now I’m going to move,” he whispered, and the promise in his voice sent shivers through me like the first time he had claimed me as his own.

He withdrew slowly, then filled me again, establishing a rhythm that had us both moving in perfect synchronization like we did when planning territorial expansions. My hand pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing to match mine, the same heart that had chosen mercy for me when he could have chosen vengeance.

The sensations built between us, every touch magnified, every kiss deeper than the last. Our bodies moved together on the silk sheets, the moonlight streaming through bulletproof windows casting everything in silver. I felt myself approaching that beautiful edge, felt him pulsing inside me as his own release approached.

When he moaned my name, the sound pushed me over completely. We found our release together, bodies trembling, hearts racing, completely lost in each other like we were the only two people in our dangerous world. As we lay tangled together afterward, catching our breath, I realized this was only the beginning of our reign together.

Our wedding night had many more hours ahead of us, and Caleb’s satisfied smile told me he had plans for every single one of them.