Accidental Bride by Cristina Lollabrigida

ChapterThree

Drake was a poor host indeed,leaving Alessandra stunned on the couch. She had dreamt of a marriage filled with love, unlike any she had experienced before, and realized now how naïve that was. It was foolish to hope Drake Walker would be that man. She chastised herself while attempting to catch her breath.

The slamming of a door made her jump. She sighed and adjusted her slipped bodice before wandering down the hall, searching for the spare room. The room was surprisingly warm and feminine compared to the rest of the modern, bachelor loft. The bed was made up with white sheets and a turned-down pink bedspread. She opened the closet door only to find it was a generous walk-in with rows of clothes, shoes, and accessories.

A white lace garment caught Alessandra’s eye. She was sure it was meant to be worn by Riley on her wedding night. She fingered the delicate sheer tulle robe with a satin belt trimmed with white feathers.

“So much for our wedding night beauty. Who would’ve thought I’d have something in common with a discarded garment? We’re both unwanted.” She sighed and pulled the set off the hanger.

The day’s events weighed heavily upon her. She couldn’t well begin a marriage built on lies and deception. Wedding night expectations left her disappointed and wondering what she had done wrong. The fire and anger in Drake’s eyes confused her, while his rough treatment left her painfully aroused.

Drake had kissed her with such unbridled passion it left her dizzy. She caressed her kiss-swollen lips with the cold diamond, hoping it would help cool her fevered skin. His power radiated sex and danger, making her core throb. She peeled off her soaked thong, thankful Drake remained oblivious to the effect he had on her.

Soft morning light shone through the window, and a gentle breeze billowed the curtains to wake Alessandra the following day. She stretched her arms overhead and arched her back like a cat gazing around the room. Outside of the bed, there was a nightstand and a wall-mounted TV. There were no personal items in sight. Everything had been arranged in the closet.

They were overwrought on their wedding day, and many things were said and done in the heat of the moment. Still, Alessandra was disappointed to wake up alone. It was time to start her first day as a married woman, and she was determined to make a better first impression.

Alessandra studied herself in the mirror. The beautiful eye makeup now appeared heavy and smeared, and she didn’t have the proper cleansers for the waterproof eyeliner and mascara. Her skin was blotchy due to rubbing against the pillowcase and crying. A quick shower in the guest bathroom helped to invigorate her senses. After failing to find a toothbrush, Alessandra swished some mouthwash to freshen her breath.

The scent of coffee wafted into the room, perking her up. She quickly grabbed the sheer robe and pulled it over the white lacy undergarments. She was pleased they fit so well. Her torso appeared leaner, her breasts lifted, and her pert ass was displayed in the thong.

Before seeing her husband, she shook some of the burdens from her shoulders and slipped her mask back into place. Unfortunately, Alessandra ran smack into a wall of hard muscle as she walked into the kitchen.

He grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” he barked.

“I’m sorry, Drake.” She refused to let Drake see her tremble.

Drake’s eyes slowly perused her body. Alessandra couldn’t resist doing the same. Her eyes drifted down the hard planes of his herculean chest covered with a tuft of hair darker than the hair on his head. His well-defined abs were closer to an eight-pack than six. The vee and dusky happy trail made a perfect arrow to draw her attention to the sizable bulk in his red silk boxers.

Drake released her and turned away. Her eyes dropped from the sinewy muscles of his back down to his titanium ass as he moved. His raw masculine energy radiated around them, and she wanted to run her fingers through his hair and drag her tongue against his hot skin, tasting every inch.

Tony had ensured Alessandra knew how to properly please men. No partner had ever sought her pleasure, leaving the act unenjoyable, but she performed as instructed. Drake was the first man she wanted to serve voluntarily.

She was willing to fall on her knees if he would stroke her hair and call her a good girl. More than anything, she wanted to prove her worth outside of the bedroom. She wanted to change Drake’s heavy scowl into a smile. The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, after all.

“Would you like me to make some breakfast?” She crossed over to the stainless-steel fridge and pulled it open, only to find it empty, and quickly turned back to Drake. “Why is the fridge empty?”

“After the wedding, we planned to stay in a hotel for two days. My cock should’ve been buried in my wife’s pussy until we left for our honeymoon. Hence the reason the fridge is empty.”

Alessandra was trying to make peace, and it hurt when Drake snapped at her. The green-eyed monster of jealousy erupted in her gut when he said his wife—meaning Riley, not her. He didn’t have to keep browbeating her because she wasn’t his intended bride. She sighed and began digging through the kitchen drawers, searching for a pen and paper to start a grocery list.

“I can go shopping if you’d like while I’m out and about today,” she offered.

“I truly don’t give a fuck what you do!” Drake’s words stung as much as a slap to the face.

“Are you always such a miserable bastard? Why don’t you just go on your damn honeymoon and leave me alone! I’m not your punching bag.” The words escaped Alessandra’s lips unintentionally.

“What did you call me, Alessandra?” Drake’s tone was cold as ice, and his eyes burned as they locked on hers.

“You heard me! I called you a miserable fucking bastard,” Alessandra challenged.

In a flash, Drake pinned her against the countertop. Her squeak was barely audible over her own thundering heart. Drake pressed against her, and her nipples hardened beneath the lace cups of her lingerie. Her clit throbbed with unfulfilled need at his sudden proximity.

“I won’t tolerate back-talk or disrespect,” Drake firmly responded against her neck.

“Respect is earned. Right now, you haven’t done a damn thing to deserve it.” She shoved Drake hard, but she might as well have hit the granite countertop. Drake captured her wrists and pinned her body with his hips.

“You’re in my house now, little girl. We’re going to set some ground rules.”

Drake ground his hardness against Alessandra’s hip. His hot breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine. The fight ran out of her when his hands tightened on her wrists as he waited for her response.

“Yes, sir,” she answered meekly.

“Good girl.”

Drake bit her neck, causing her to gasp. He grasped her hips and spun her so she faced the counter. He trapped her by thrusting his hips against hers, pressing his arousal against her scantily-clad ass.

“Drake!” she cried out. “What are you doing?”

“Do not speak until given permission. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Drake grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, causing her back to arch. He growled in her ear, “I didn’t give you permission, naughty girl.”

Drake lifted one hand and spanked her ass so hard she whimpered. His hand connected several more times, alternating cheeks. Each time she bit her lip to keep from sobbing wantonly. She was on her toes by the time he finished, sticking her ass back into his crotch. There was no hiding the effect he had on her.

“Now be a good girl and pull your panties off, Alessandra. I want to see my mark on your beautiful ass.”

His command confused her as she was wearing a thong. Clearly, he’d be able to see her already. She fought the instincts to submit blindly and decided to test his dominance by replying sassily.

Alessandra lowered her hands to the waistband of her panties while Drake’s eyes narrowed, watching with bated breath. She toyed with them just a moment before hesitantly biting her lip.

“I gave you an order, Alessandra. Lower your panties and let me see my handprints on your ass.” His words burned her skin.

Alessandra rubbed her thighs together, hoping for some friction to soothe her achy, wet core. She wanted to give in and obey the silver-tongued devil, but she shook her head.

“Bratty subs get punished. Do you enjoy being spanked like a naughty little girl? Does the idea of being disciplined turn you on?” Drake spanked her again and squeezed her sore globes.

“You could remove them for me, sir,” Alessandra mewled.

Drake growled before fisting the lace and tearing it from her body. She flushed at his scrutiny. He admired his handiwork while caressing and rubbing her tender flesh. He followed up with slight taps that elicited a feral response from her. Her body sent mixed signals to her brain until she could no longer think straight.

She wanted to beg for mercy but didn’t know what she would say, only that she needed more. Drake’s touch became lighter as he massaged her to soothe the sting. Such tenderness caused Alessandra to break into a sweat.

“You’re simply beautiful.”

Drake freed his cock from the confines of his boxers and slid dryly between her cheeks. His scorching velvet branded her as he rocked against her. A piteous wail escaped Alessandra’s throat. She was dripping with desire in the most intense sexual encounter of her life.

His strong hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing gently, testing her limits. It was too much stimulation, but at the same time, not enough. Drake was setting his expectations, and she was along for the ride.

“Do you like that, bella?” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

“Yes, sir.”

They became lost in the sensations, two writhing bodies against the counter. Pain and pleasure signals pushed Alessandra closer to the edge. But the angle Drake pinned her kept her from using the ledge to achieve the orgasm she was desperate to reach.

“Please, Drake… please… I need….” she begged, needing more.

Drake suddenly recoiled. “Merda! What am I doing?”

He quickly shifted his boxers back into place and left the kitchen, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Breathless and needy, Alessandra collapsed against the countertop. Her ass stung from his treatment, and her hips were bruised from the lip of the counter.

Alessandra attempted to compose herself and swallow the shame of being abandoned half-naked in the kitchen. She grabbed the shredded panties and bid them farewell before throwing them in the garbage. Her self-worth fluttered to the bottom of the empty bag along with the lace.

Alessandra showered again in a vain attempt to scrub Drake’s woodsy scent from her skin. The warm spray trickled down her chest and over her painfully pebbled nipples. Her fingers slipped between her legs and circled her swollen clit that had been left neglected.

Drake’s dirty and commanding words echoed in her ears. His rough treatment and control over her pleasure brought her dangerously close to the edge and made her itchy. The hunger in his eyes mirrored her own desire. She still felt the heat where Drake’s thick, long, hot cock exuded pre-cum against her ass crack.

She pushed past her disappointment and fantasized about what might’ve happened if Drake hadn’t pulled away. Alessandra’s breath quickened as her fingers moved faster and pressed harder. It wasn’t long before the wave of orgasm had her bracing herself on the cold tile wall to remain standing, biting her lip to muffle her ecstasy.

Imposter syndrome hit her hard. She had taken someone else’s fiancé and wedding. Now she stood in another woman’s closet searching through her clothes because she only had a wedding dress. Finally, she found a simple blouse and wrap skirt that fit.

Alessandra was thrown by the sight of Drake drinking a cup of coffee in frayed dark-wash jeans and a gray T-shirt. The shirt fit him like a second skin, allowing every muscular bulge to remain on display. He always looked handsome in his expensive tailored suits in court, but relaxed Drake took her breath away.

“Glad you found something,” he said, barely looking at her.

Alessandra smoothed down the skirt. “Thank you.”

Alessandra reached for the coffee pot, but the click of Drake’s tongue made her pause. The disapproving gaze in his eye was all too familiar, as she had seen it in all the other important men in her life. Her heart shriveled as the air became rife with tension. They sized each other up like feral cats, ready to pounce if the other suddenly moved.

There was nothing else to do but accept defeat. Alessandra knew where she wasn’t wanted, whether it be in her childhood home or her husband’s penthouse. Determined to catch a cab and not return, she moved toward the door. Drake must’ve sensed her flight response and halted her by raising his hand.

“I’m off today, so I thought I could help you move your stuff in.”

“Excuse me?” His offer threw Alessandra.

“Since we’re stuck together, we can use the time productively and figure a way out of this mess.” Drake dumped the remainder of his coffee down the drain and rinsed the mug before setting it in the dishwasher.

“Oh.” She was crestfallen.

Every time Drake offered a kernel, she foolishly got her hopes up. When he immediately snatched it away, she was left with egg on her face. He saw her as the enemy, and she was ready to settle for an amicable relationship.

“Just let me get my keys. I’ll drive.”

They rode the private elevator down to the basement garage, and Drake hit the unlock button from his keys. The lights of a red Corvette Stingray Z51 flashed with a subtle lock pop. Alessandra would’ve thought he was compensating for something with a flashy car, but having felt the strength of his erection an hour before, she knew that wasn’t the case.

It was easy to dismiss the designer labels as Drake dressed well for court. Even Jenny, the Russo family attorney—acting as her brother’s criminal defense lawyer—spent thousands on a single outfit for court. But now, having been to his penthouse and sliding into the leather interior of the brand-new car that cost somewhere from sixty to eighty thousand dollars, it was clear Drake came from money. Alessandra wondered if she would ever truly know who Drake Walker was.

Alessandra put her home address into the car’s navigation system. She had to remind herself it wasn’t home anymore. It was her father’s house now. It was always his, just like everything inside of it. Just like her, until he’d decided it was time to sell her off.

“You’re practically right around the corner,” Drake mentioned.

“Lucky me,” she mumbled as he pulled onto the city street.