23. Marriage arrangement terms
MICHELA
23
Our marriage arrangement will last until Corrado concludes his business in town or at the end of the summer, whichever comes first. Once the papers are signed, I close the folder and face him, expecting the kiss he promised. I even inch closer to him.
He offers me a hand, and I shake it.
“You’ve negotiated a crappy deal for yourself, but I admire your determination,” he says.
“Thank you, Corrado. Nobody’s ever appreciated my stubbornness before.”
He reaches into his pocket, then stops and winces, rubbing his shoulder.
“Did you sleep wrong?” I ask.
He mumbles something.
“What was that?” I walk behind him and start kneading his shoulders. At first, he tenses up, but I keep at it, finding quite a few tight bumps. I use my fingertips and massage them, gradually feeling the tension leave his shoulders.
Corrado groans in a way only a woman wiggling underneath him should hear. “God, yes,” he moans. An image of him moving above me in a bed made of black satin and goose feathers assaults me.
I swallow, trying to think of anything else, but Corrado’s growling low in his throat now, and I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like if he growled like that in my ear while he fucked me.
When I feel myself getting wet between my legs, and when my massage becomes more sensual, my hands moving toward his front, my fingers running through his chest hair, I step around him.
His hand flies out, and he shoves me back behind him. “Finish it off.”
I swallow and knead his shoulders again, pressing between his shoulder blades.
After he shoved me behind him, his palm never left my hip, and now he moves it down the side of my leg to my thigh, where he squeezes. “Go on,” he says. “This feels good.”
I press my fingertips into the small of his back, then work outward.
“You will do this to me daily.”
“Sure. But a professional masseuse would do a better job.”
“I won’t have strangers touching me.”
“That’s the thing about meeting new people. Once you meet them, they’re not strangers anymore.”
“Most people I meet remain strangers.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“On the contrary. I have my people, and they have me. Strangers can’t be trusted.”
“You seem to trust me,” I say.
“You’re my wife.”
“But I was a stranger only a few weeks ago.”
Corrado’s head comes up, and he casts a gaze over his shoulder. “You’re an exception. Every rule has one.”
Inwardly, I smile. It’s nice to hear nice things about oneself. “Thank you.”
I run my thumbs from the base of his neck into his hair.
Corrado growls again and puts me right back on my train of dirty thoughts about him.
I try changing things up, but he says, “Again.”
I do as he asks and run my hand freely into his thick, dark strands.
Goose bumps raise the dark hairs on his arms.
“Again.”
I keep running my nails over his scalp.
Slowly, Corrado spins the bar chair, and I find myself standing between his legs, which puts us at about the same height. Though not for long, because he stands and touches the side of my face, his thumb pushing my jaw up, forcing my head to tilt.
His head dips, and this time, I don’t close my eyes, but gaze straight into his until his lips brush over mine.
An electric current runs down my spine, and I gasp while Corrado blinks, looking almost shocked. Maybe he was actually shocked by the same electricity that ran through my body.
His lips hover above mine as if he’s hesitant to do it again, but with his fast decision-making process, I can’t imagine this man would hesitate about anything. Except maybe when he’s surprised by something. Or someone. Perhaps that’s why he made an exception for me and allowed me inside his tightly controlled world.
A stranger whom he now found a way to control.
And I don’t mind his control. Not all. Especially not when he kisses me again, seeking my tongue as he pushes his tongue inside my mouth and brings me in closer. At the taste of him, I almost melt. My knees go soft, and a moan that he swallows escapes my lips.
Our bodies touch now, his erection pressing on my belly. Corrado deepens the kiss, growing more forceful, reminding me of the raw aggression carefully caged beneath his suit. It’s sexy. All of him is sexy, and it’s no wonder my hands lift as if they have a mind of their own. I hook them behind his neck at the same time that he fists my hair and pulls rather hard to separate us.
He’s breathing heavily, his focus darting between my mouth and my eyes as I presume he debates what to do next.
I lick my lips.
Corrado does the same.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
“Where I’ll fuck you. Here, on the couch, or in my bed?”
Oh God.
“Do you want to pick?” he asks.
Yes, and the answer is anywhere, but instead of sounding like a desperate duckling, I shake my head.
“No, what? You don’t want to pick, or you don’t want to fuck?”
The fact that his language is turning more raw tells me he’s losing control. I like this side of him, the raw one. I’m slowly meeting the real him, and not the version of him the rest of the world sees when they look at his tailored suit, his heavy gold and diamond-studded watch, and five-hundred-dollar haircut.
“No, I don’t want to pick,” I say, meaning having sex with him isn’t off the table.
On the bar, his phone rings, and I glance at the screen. Unknown number. From the way my brother conducted his business, I know these types of calls are important.
“You should probably take that,” I say.
Corrado rolls his shoulders, then reaches into his pocket. He pulls out an apartment key card, a key that looks like a car key, and a little gold box.
He points. “Wear the ring. Drive your car. I’ll meet you back here tonight.”
I nod, even though we should talk about sleeping arrangements. I can’t leave my mom alone, so I have to negotiate that with Corrado. He won’t be happy, but judging by the urgency of the phone that keeps ringing on the bar, now isn’t the time for me to bring this up.
“One more thing,” he says. “My wife, by pretense or not, is still mine, and I expect you to understand that men who disrespect the ring on your finger will meet my Walther, so if you want any of them to survive, fend them off yourself. This includes your biker friend Jesse.”
“How do you know about him?”
“I had you followed.” Before I can protest, he presses a finger over his lips. “Shhh. No talking back on that subject. Two weeks is a long time for my wife to roam around New York. I did what I had to do.”
Fine. I get it. “Jesse is family to me.” Even if we’re not related by blood.
“I like hearing that. Still, should you get lonely and want dick…” He pauses when my eyes widen. “All you have to do is crawl into my bed. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
He swipes the phone off the bar and readies to leave, then curses and yanks me to him by my hip. A hand fists my hair again, and Corrado slams his mouth down on mine, pushes his tongue inside, and starts plundering, taking his pleasure, bending me backward as he growls.
I’m reminded of Vikings. They come and go, leaving destroyed villages behind them. Knowingly, I signed up to become the village he conquers and leaves behind. I guess I can find solace in the fact I’ll get a job and an opportunity at a better life at the expense of a shredded heart.