Chapter 11
Antonio
When Isabella asked me what I saw when I looked at her, I had to bite my tongue not to reply with “The woman I love.” Despite what happened a year ago, and although I can’t fully trust her, I do love my wife. I have since the first night we spent together when she so willingly allowed me to strip off her silk wedding dress and claim her virginity.
Though my feelings are driven largely by a primal instinct to imprint myself on every part of her body, I also want to take care of her. The need to protect this woman consumes me. If anything happened to Isabella, it would bring me to my knees. But I can’t tell her that, not until I’m sure she won’t use my weakness for her against me.
While Isabella leans against the wall and watches me, a hint of curiosity on her face, I run a bath. There’s a bottle of fragranced oil sitting on the edge of the tub, so I pour a generous amount into the warm water. I’m instantly hit by an overpowering scent of lavender. I know it’s supposed to be relaxing, but it’s not a fragrance I find soothing. It irritates my nostrils. This is for Isabella and not me, so I can put up with it.
When the tub is filled halfway, I turn off the taps and beckon Isabella over. She looks worn out. Taking the hand I offer her, she accepts my help to step into the tub. Her movements are tentative as she lowers herself into the water. I guess she’s feeling a little tender. That shouldn’t give me the satisfaction it does, but I can’t help the swell of pride in my chest at the thought of leaving a lasting impression on her body.
“Lean forward,” I tell her as she rests against the back of the tub.
Her eyes widen in surprise as I unbutton my shirt, intending to get into the water with her. As I strip off my shirt, her gaze goes to the scar on my shoulder and regret swamps her beautiful verdant eyes.
“What’s the matter, Bella? Can’t bear to see the consequences of your actions?”
I’m being a prick, but I can’t help myself. While I still have a lingering suspicion Isabella hasn’t shared the whole truth with me about that night, I won’t be able to put it behind me.
“No.”
She brings her knees up to her chest and rests her head on them. She looks so damned small and vulnerable I want to tell her all is forgiven. I resist the urge and get into the tub behind her.
“I hate that you were hurt,” she says quietly.
“Do you?”
“Of course I do. I swear I never intended for anything bad to happen that night.”
“I believe you, Bella.” I pull her back against me and she rests her head on my chest. “But I need to know if there’s something you haven’t told me.”
I feel her stiffen against me. She’s silent for several beats. Her chest rises and falls slowly, like she’s trying to steady her breathing. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Damn. I wasn’t sure before but now I’m certain she’s withholding something. If her awkward body language wasn’t a dead giveaway, the uncertainty in her voice would be. I don’t challenge her on it, though. The direct approach won’t work with Isabella. Even when I tied her to the bed and teased information out of her, she didn’t loosen up enough to tell me the entire story. I need her happy and content if I want to find out what she hasn’t yet revealed. There is something I need to know, however.
“What about the photos? What happened to them?”
“I don’t know.” A note of panic enters her voice. “Joey was supposed to give me the phone they were taken on.”
“They were taken on a phone? Whose phone?”
“A friend’s,” Isabella murmurs.
A prickle of unease runs through me. “What friend?”
“He was my boyfriend.”
Whoever the asshole is, he’s the root of the trouble Isabella and I have faced.
“I want a name, Isabella.”
When she hesitates a moment too long, I grab her chin and turn her to face me.
“Who was it, Bella?”
“John.” She averts her gaze, unable to look at me. “John Smith.”
The lie is so blatant, I can’t help laughing. “John Smith?” I squeeze her cheeks until her eyes return to mine. “Try again.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice raises an octave, telling me the topic is distressing her. “He never told me his real name.”
“But you said he was your boyfriend.”
“I lied.” Tears fill her eyes. “I didn’t want you to think badly of me, letting a stranger take pictures of me like that.”
There are dozens more questions I want to ask her. How did Joey Gallo get a hold of the photos? Why did he not try to use them against her before we were married? She’s a beautiful woman, and I saw Gallo look at her with undisguised interest more than once. He could have forced her to do all kinds of depraved things. But he held onto the photos for years. It doesn’t make sense. None of this does. The more answers I get from my wife, the farther I feel I am from the truth.
Before I can probe farther, Isabella puts a hand on my chest. “Please, can we drop the subject, Tony?”
The combination of those sad green eyes, the desperation in her voice, and the familiar way she calls me Tony, plucks at heartstrings I’d forgotten I possess.
“Sure, sweetheart, we can drop it.”
If she hears the unspoken for now in my voice, she doesn’t react. I loosen my grip on her face and she turns her back to me once more, resting her head on my chest. She moves her hand back and forth in the water, creating ripples. She doesn’t speak and neither do I. We just lie there and I run my hands up and down her arms, offering her reassurance. Whatever secrets she still holds, she can trust me with them.
As the water gradually grows cold, Bella wriggles against me, the movement making my cock stir.
“Keep doing that, Bella, and this bath is going to get a lot less relaxing.”
She shimmies her hips again, then turns and flings her arms around my neck. She kisses me, her lips exploring mine. Where my kisses are usually fiercely possessive, hers are gentle, affectionate. She leans back and runs her hand along my inner thigh. I hold my breath, waiting for her next move. I hiss as she wraps her hand around my semi-erect cock and tugs a few times until I’m painfully hard.
“Fuck, Bella!”
As I reach for her, she surprises me by pushing herself back and leaping out of the tub. Rather than running off and forcing me to give chase, she grabs a towel and slowly dries herself off. I swallow hard as she runs the fluffy white towel down between her breasts and over her abdomen to her feminine mound. Then she drops the towel and slips her fingers between her legs. As she rubs her clit, she moans deeply. Her gaze on me doesn’t waver. Never before has Isabella been so blatantly seductive. She has one hundred percent of my attention and she’s reveling in it.
When I stand abruptly, sloshing water all over the floor, Isabella doesn’t flinch. Slowly, deliberately, she removes her fingers from her pussy and brings them to her lips. She sucks them into her mouth and hums with pleasure. I almost come on the spot.
As I take a step toward her, she turns and walks from the room, hips swaying. I don’t know what game my wife is playing, but I’m intrigued enough to follow her like a lost puppy.
I come into the bedroom and find Bella carrying the wooden stool that sits in front of the dressing table to the center of the room. She places it down and pats the padded seat.
“Sit,” she instructs me.
Normally I wouldn’t allow her to speak to me in that commanding tone but I’m incredibly aroused by it and do as she tells me. She places a hand on my shoulder and walks around to my front.
“You going to give me a lap dance, Bella?”
She glances down at my erection and smiles. “No, I think we can skip that and go straight to the main event.”
Straddling my lap, she lowers herself onto my cock. Her breath comes out in short pants as she takes me one inch at a time. Her tight channel is a snug fit, perfect for me. When I’m in her as far as I can go, she kisses me with a raw, desperate passion. I wind my arms around her waist as she raises and lowers herself. She grasps my shoulders and swivels her hips. Throwing her head back, she whimpers. I know what that sound means. She’s not quite getting what she needs.
To help her out, I slide one hand between her legs to play with her clit and with the other I palm her breast, kneading it roughly. I lower my mouth and suckle on her nipple. Then I bite into her tender flesh and she cries out in that glorious mix of pleasure and pain.
“Harder, Antonio.” She runs her fingers through her long, dark hair. “Fuck me harder.”
Who am I to refuse such a desperate plea from a goddess?
“Whatever my bella ragazza wants.”
Putting my hand behind her head to cushion it, I take Bella down to the floor. Her legs wrap around my waist and she lifts her hips as I fuck her just how she wanted me to, with barely leashed fury. It’s mere seconds before Isabella’s body tenses. Her back arches off the floor and she digs her nails into my arms, needing something to hold on to as she comes with a shriek of pure ecstasy.
With her body spasming beneath me, I can’t hold off a moment longer. As my beautiful wife trembles beneath me, I spill my seed inside her. When I’m thoroughly spent, I ease out of her and roll over onto the floor, not wanting to crush Isabella with my weight.
Our bodies are slick with sweat, our breathing is ragged. Bella sits up and sweeps her tousled hair out of her eyes. As I run my fingers up and down her back, she smothers a yawn with her fist. When she turns to smile at me, her eyelids are drooping. Poor baby is completely worn out.
With some reluctance to move, I get up off the floor and offer Isabella my hand. I help her up and lead her to the bed. Pulling back the covers, I help her get comfortable.
“Join me,” she says before I can draw the sheet up over her.
Normally, I’m not a cuddler, but the hopeful look on Isabella’s face is impossible to resist. I climb into bed next to her and pull the sheets up to cover us both. Isabella turns onto her side and I move closer to wrap my arms around her. I relish the warmth of her body, her softness, the delicate floral scent of her hair. For the first time in a year a deep feeling of peace washes over me.
A subtle change in Isabella’s breath sounds tells me she’s already asleep. I consider getting up and doing some work but I’ve left everything in safe hands. For once, I can relax and enjoy this closeness with my wife. A yawn creeps up on me and I realize I’m exhausted. Powerless to resist, I allow my eyes to close. Mere moments later, I drift off to sleep.