12. Elysa
TWELVE
Elysa
S ince I’d been distracted all evening, Maura insisted we have a nightcap at the bar after closing.
She knew I’d met with Dante, which meant she also knew it probably hadn’t gone well.
She was right.
The proof, as they say, was in the pudding because I was a mess.
Worse, I was a walking, talking cliché—the woman who wanted to believe her ex had changed but was too afraid to trust it.
Because Dante had seemed sincere, and I desperately wanted to believe him.
But deep down, a voice whispered that this could all be manipulation—that he would reel me back in, hold me close, and then discard me the second it was societally polite.
I poured Maura and me a burnt butter amaro we’d recently acquired.
The rich, caramelized scent curled into the air as it hit the glass.
She untied the colorful bandana she always wore in the kitchen, shaking out her blonde hair as she casually settled onto a barstool.
“So?” she prompted as she picked up her glass.
We clinked our little glasses.
“I’m assuming your mood is because of Dante and not because you ran into a wine critic with bad taste?” she teased.
I chuckled.
“You know Don Giordano is getting that civilian honor thing?”
Maura nodded, sipping her drink.
I stroked a finger around the edge of my glass.
“He wants me to come to Piedmont.”
“You loved his grandfather, Elysa, so what’s the problem?”
“As his wife.” I scowled.
“So, we can have another debacle like that awful charity gala thing. And his lawyers are still looking at the divorce papers. I mean, how the fuck long does that take? It’s been six weeks.”
Maura made a sound that was somewhere between amused and thoughtful.
“It’s almost like he doesn’t want to divorce you.”
My heart soared.
Then I remembered how he had just talked down to me, and hope crashed as it was meant to.
“Doesn’t he understand how hard this is for me? I’m in love with the bastard, and he’s toying with me,” I complained bitterly.
“It’s like he’s compartmentalized me as duty and Lucia as… whatever .”
Maura patted my hand.
“Drink up, sweetheart, because it sounds like it’s going to be a long night for you.”
I downed the amaro, and Maura refilled our glasses.
“So, are you going?”
I hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
Maura rolled her eyes.
“Of course, you’re going. You adored Don Giordano. Don’t let Dante ruin that for you.”
“But…I don’t want to play wife.”
“Then don’t.” Maura twirled her glass.
“You’re not going for Dante. You’re going for his Nonno.”
Deep down, I knew I was always going to go.
Don Giordano was important to me, and I wanted to honor him.
“But that’s not the problem, is it?” she surmised correctly.
I shook my head.
“I like playing his wife,” I admitted sadly.
“I know.”
“You think he’s sleeping with Lucia?”
Maura made a distressed sound.
“What do you think?”
“Dante is very sexual.” I hated this so much.
“He…we had a lot of sex, and I don’t think he can go without it. ”
“Of course he can.” Maura waved a hand.
“He’s not a randy teenager with no control over his hormones.”
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
“Why couldn’t he fall in love with me?” Tears filled my eyes.
“I mean, is there something wrong with me that no one loves me? My mother can’t stand me because I’m not… good enough. My father only got interested in me when Don Giordano wanted me to marry his grandson. It’s like?—”
“Stop the pity party.” Maura slapped the back of my head.
I glared at her.
“It’s my party, and I can cry if I want to.”
“And who does that help?” Maura shot back.
“Don’t be maudlin. You’re entirely too lovable. I love you. Your staff loves you. Dante is not the barometer of your lovability.”
I deflated, the energy to argue fading fast.
“I guess I’m going to be gone for a few days at the end of the month, boss.”
“Atta, girl!” Maura patted my back as if she were proud of me.
“Now, we need to go shopping before you go.”
“We do?” I asked quizzically.
“Yep. If you’re going to Piedmont, you might as well make Dante regret every stupid thing he’s ever done and have him swallow his tongue when he sees you.”
Right, like that was going to happen.
Compared to the Lucias of his world, I didn’t stand a chance, not even with all the money in the world.
“Maura, I?—”
“Fuck-me dresses,” she went on.
“We’re going to buy you fuck-me dresses and fuck-me shoes. We’ll go back to Twice Vintage.”
My lips twitched into a smile despite myself.
Located on the winding streets of Trastevere, Twice Vintage was an eccentric vintage store that was somehow on-trend.
You could get anything from a pink prairie dress to a Chanel black dress to Carhartt pants.
“Remember when I wore that burgundy dress for Don Giordano’s birthday party?”
“The backless one? Yeah.”
“Dante fucked me in his grandfather’s library. He couldn’t wait until we got back to the flat,” I told her smugly.
We’d been at the party for maybe a half hour when Dante put his hand on my bare back and stroked my ass as he talked to someone.
I rested against his hand, and he looked at me, his eyes glassy.
“I want to show you something,” he murmured and then turned to the person he was talking to, “ Mi scusi .”
He walked me into his grandfather’s library and closed the door.
Before I could ask him what was going on, his mouth was on me.
He wrapped a hand around my throat, and I moaned.
His other hand delved into my hair, and my pulse quickened.
He pulled away from my mouth and then began to whisper kisses along my cheeks and the corner of my mouth.
My nipples tightened, and wetness pooled between my legs.
I wasn’t wearing panties, as no matter what I wore, the panty lines showed.
I felt his stiff cock against my stomach.
I whimpered, pushing against him.
Sex was volatile between us.
It was sometimes hard and fast, sometimes slow and languid.
He gave me what I wanted but never when I wanted it.
Dante liked to dominate during sex, and I didn’t mind at all.
I enjoyed it and loved being at his beck and call because he rewarded my compliance so beautifully.
He came back to my lips, and I parted my mouth, letting him in.
He gently sucked my tongue and then began to fuck my mouth.
He pushed me as we kissed, and I felt the back of the big desk.
He cupped my breasts as I leaned against the desk.
“You’ve been driving me crazy all night, cara mia.”
He kissed me again, savoring me.
It was as if we had time, but we didn’t.
Anyone could walk in and catch us, as he hadn’t locked the door.
I would be mortified if someone saw us like this, but it was also exciting to have him so out of control.
The first time we had sex a few days after we were married had been magic, and ever since, each time had only made me hungrier for him.
“Dante.” I clutched at his shirt.
He slid his hand through the slit of my dress and cupped me.
He groaned.
“You’re naked.”
“Yes.”
“Fuck, I’m glad I didn’t know earlier otherwise….” He stabbed me with a finger, and I clenched around him.
His kisses became rougher as he finger-fucked me.
“Don’t come,” he growled.
“You have to wait.”
Was he out of his mind?
I couldn’t control this.
I was just about to go over when he pulled his finger away.
I moaned.
“Dante,” I whined.
“I told you that you have to wait. You have to learn patience, cara mia.”
I licked my lips and looked behind him at the door.
“I don’t care,” he answered my unasked questions.
What if someone came in?
What if we were missed?
Shouldn’t we hurry?
“And neither should you. Focus on this.” He pushed his hips against me.
He turned me around.
“Bend over,” he ordered.
I did as he asked, gasping as my hardened nipples touched the hard wooden desk.
My bra was slight, lace, offering zero protection against scraping and friction.
“Hold on.” He put my hands on the edge of the desk.
“I’m going to go hard, Elysa.”
He pushed my dress up, and I felt it bunch against my waist.
He cupped my ass.
“Bella. ”
He pumped a finger inside me.
“You’re so wet, cara. I love how you’re always soaked for me.”
“Yes.” I wanted to move my hips, but his hand on the small of my back held me still.
“I need ? —”
He slapped a cheek, and I lost all resistance.
“More,” I pleaded.
He slapped my ass again, harder.
We’d never done this before.
Never .
But it felt right now.
I was an offering, my ass up, bare, and he could see my pussy.
He withdrew his finger, and I heard the sound of his belt and zipper.
Anticipation splintered my nerves.
Would it always be this good with Dante?
Yes, I knew it would be.
We’d never be the couple who stopped having sex.
This kind of connection was unreal and unexpected, and I was grateful for it.
“You have to be quiet, bella.” I felt the broad head of his penis against my core.
“Or people will come inside to investigate, and I’d have to kill anyone who saw you like this or heard you come.”
His possessiveness made me feel owned by him—it made me forget how we’d come together and made me hopeful for the future.
No matter how much emotional distance he put between us, in this, there was no distance; there were only explosions.
His hand gripped my hair, and I braced for impact.
Just as he stroked my pussy with his erection, I called out, “Dante, condom.”
“No,” he growled.
“No more condoms. ”
He knew I was on birth control, but he’d insisted on condoms.
It had hurt my feelings initially, but when he explained that he didn’t want me to ever worry about not being safe, I knew he’d done it to take care of me.
I also wondered if he was fucking other women.
Without warning, Dante slammed into me.
All breath escaped out of me, and I felt full of him, full of my husband, my man, my lover.
“You’re perfect.” He groaned.
“Your pussy is made for me. I want to see my cum flowing out of you, on your thighs.”
I moaned, and he spanked me hard.
“I said, be quiet.”
I whimpered softly, too aroused to think straight.
He kept me still as he pumped in and out of me.
Every time I squirmed, wanting to press against him, he spanked me.
“You take color well.” He squeezed one buttock and then another.
I clung to the desk and closed my mouth, keeping the sounds inside me.
But it was becoming increasingly difficult.
“Dante, please.” I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I needed to find my release.
“I like that. Beg me some more, Elysa.”
“Let me come.”
Even though he had asked me to be quiet, he was vocal about how much he enjoyed me, his grunts loud .
“I’ll get you there, cara. You know I’ll get you there but let me…for now, just let me fuck you.”
My pussy tightened, and I knew that I was going to come even without clitoral stimulation this time.
I was so aroused, so stuffed, so…
on edge.
“Now,” he cried out and moved his hand from the small of my back to my pussy.
He pinched my clitoris, and I fell over right as he did.
I slumped onto the desk, unable to process what had just happened.
I felt his kiss between my shoulder blades.
“I’ll clean you up, cara, and then we can go back.”
“Sure,” I mumbled.
“Not like I can feel my legs.”
I heard his low chuckle.
“You’re amazing, Elysa.”
Remembering that didn’t make me feel better—instead, it made me feel worse.
I’d really thought that our intimacy meant we had a deep connection and we could build a marriage on it, but I should’ve paid heed to what everyone always said: sex doesn’t last.
Had he gotten bored of it?
He had told his friend how sex was bland with me.
Fresh pain poured through me.
Had all of it for a whole year been a lie?
“Hey, where did you go?” Maura pulled me out of my head.
I shrugged.
“I don’t need to dress to impress Dante. I mean…it sounds so shallow to try and make him feel bad about dumping me.”
“First, you left him and not?— ”
“I only preempted it, and you know that.” I stood up.
“Let’s lock up and get some sleep.”
Maura heard the finality in my tone and let it go.
“Tomorrow will be a better day,” she promised me.