25. Matilde
Matilde
The double doors at the end of the hall stand wide open. Nico’s bedroom will become my bedroom. I wish I could think of an amusing anecdote about him carrying me this way versus over his shoulder, but my wit draws a blank while his thoughts are locked behind those gray eyes that reveal nothing.
My heart rate triples as he sets me on my feet beside the bed and pulls out his phone, tapping at it. “The alarm system,” he explains. “Your phone will have access to it. I’ve selected bodyguards for you, too.”
“Can I choose? I like Primo.”
His slicing glare has me shrinking back. “Yes, it seems he likes you, too.”
“I do not like Primo that way. He is nice. We laugh together.” Nico’s frown deepens, and I make myself clearer. “I do not experience… stirrings around him.”
“Stirrings?” he repeats, his glare softening momentarily and chasing away the moment of fear. “Primo is dutiful, but I require someone more skilled to protect you and my children, though Ugo and Enio are not likely to make you laugh.”
“That is okay. I will give no cause for you to feel jealous around your men.”
“This isn’t a love match, but I won’t tolerate you making a fool of me.”
His increasing coldness drives away my warmth. What happened to the man who said he'd carry me up the trellis?
He turns to face his bureau, tearing off his tie and shrugging out of his coat and vest. “Your belongings were brought over earlier. You’ll find your necessities in the bathroom,” he tosses over his shoulder as he drops his cufflinks and wristwatch into the mahogany tray.
Am I being dismissed? He doesn’t have to rip my wedding gown off – I’m not certain how I would’ve handled that – but I thought he might be just a teensy bit desperate to claim me.
“There are many buttons.”
“Take a shower if you wish,” he informs me as if he didn’t hear my veiled offer and couldn’t care less what I do.
“You have been nice today, but you are still an asshole, I see.”
“Don’t start behaving like a brat.”
“Brat? Vaffanculo!”
Striding into the bathroom, I slam the door shut, cringing from the echo and my outburst. You knew what he was like and what this marriage would entail.
Tearing off my head piece, I decide I will take a long shower before I face him again. I’ve barely managed the first button when the doorknob turns. I whirl around, not wanting him to see my hurt, determined to ignore him.
Of course, he won’t have that. “Slamming doors is childish behavior, and that language is not very becoming of a Capo’s wife.”
Furious, I lift my head, ready to choose violence. “Then maybe you should have married another woman!”
“Maybe so… but I wanted you." Stunned by the admission, I meet his gaze in the mirror. He’s not angry like I expected.
“I was being an asshole, Matilde. I am often an asshole.
I regret my behavior. Carrying you up to the bedroom, I started thinking.
" Why does he make thinking sound like a fatal flaw? "Allow me to help you with your dress.”
I give him a baleful stare at the almost-apology.
“Per favore? Let me help.”
With my nod, he steps forward, his body’s heat clinging to me like a shadow as the sun sinks lower.
His fingers brush over my back, and my body springs to life, full of those stirrings that will be the death of my sanity.
Swallowing hard, I let my hands drop to my sides, and Nico takes over undoing the multitude of buttons and fastenings.
“My first marriage was a disaster starting with our wedding night. "
"That is what you were thinking?"
"Yes. I don’t want a repeat of that with you.”
“Why disaster?”
“I'm an asshole, like I said, and she… I won’t speak ill of her. I have Lucia and Amadeo because of her, and I failed her.”
I want to know more, but he shifts away from the subject instead.
“I love this dress on you, Matilde.” Our eyes meet in the mirror again. Slowly, he leans closer, his hot breath fanning against my cheek. “I’m going to love seeing it on the floor even more,” he husks right before he lowers his mouth to my neck.
Electricity sparks from that point of contact, engulfing my very being until I could not say where I end and he begins. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand, and a delicious shudder sweeps through me as my eyes drift shut.
Nico inhales deeply, sucking hard on my pulse point before licking the tenderness away. “That peach fragrance of yours, it’s teased me since our first dance. Longer than that. Since you told me of your little farm. I wonder how sweet and tart your cunt will taste.”
Shocked but not turned off, his words spawn something deep inside me, a clenching sensation that ignites a frightening and powerful need – lust. I want a kiss. And another and another.
Spinning around, I rake my fingernails along his side, desperate to reach his skin but unsuccessful. I rock up to my tiptoes, attempting to taste his mouth, begging for a kiss.
He rears back for half a second, and my heart nearly crumbles until…
“Fuck it.” The surrender is torn from his lips, and he lunges forward again, capturing my mouth with his, giving me everything I crave.
I may have initiated things, but it’s soon evident who controls this kiss.
Nico cups my neck, holding me in place as he slowly devours me, like a dessert he will only savor once.
Our mouths meld together, our tongues collide, our breaths intermingle, all of it opening up possibilities of things I never considered.
Filling my lungs seems ridiculously unnecessary when all I want is this.
“Breathe, honey,” he rasps at last, his fingers trailing up to my lips.
I draw in a quick breath before wrapping my lips around his forefinger.
His eyes flash with lust. On a whim, I tentatively lick him.
“Yes, tesoro. That's very nice. Suck it now. We need to train these pretty lips.”
I feel dizzy from his commanding tone. I would not dare disobey. Sucking lightly, I lick the salt from his skin, tracing the little ridges of his digit and relishing the hunger in his expression. It spurs on my own, and I’m trembling when he murmurs, “Good girl. How wet are you?”
“I… wet?” I ponder the question before considering how warm I feel. All over. My thighs squeeze together, and arousal drenches my panties. That is what he meant. “Oh.”
My face explodes with heat, causing my husband to smirk. “Let’s find out together, shall we?”
He turns me back around so that I’m facing the mirror. Gently, he pushes my dress down my arms and past my hips until it’s a heap of crinoline and silk on the floor. My corset, lacy panties, stockings and white satin shoes are all that remain.
“So beautiful.” The rumbled words stoke my confidence and desire while his fingers caress my shoulders before slipping downward.
He teasingly tugs at the corset’s lacing.
“Is this mine to unwrap?” I nod, wanting him to.
“Very good. Remember that, Matilde. You are mine. Every delectable inch of your gorgeous body belongs to me.”
The sound of the laces ripping free of the eyelets and our panted breaths fill the small space.
He encounters a knot, and vexation fills his face until he pulls his knife and slices through the remaining laces.
I can hardly draw a breath. A rush of cool air makes my nipples pebble when he exposes me, tossing the corset aside.
Reaching up, I sweep my hair to one side, wanting no barrier between his heated gaze and my body. Setting his knife aside, he catches my wrist, stroking his thumb over the bracelet. “My little nymph,” I murmur, smiling at the charm.
“My little nymph. Except you’re a fucking goddess, Matilde."
Blushing, I glance down at his knife, and a frown forms. "Nico, there is blood." It's not fully dried, but I would've felt it if he nicked me.
"Sorry, tesoro. I didn't get it cleaned properly."
"Cleaned? You heard those men?"
"I did."
"You killed-"
"Disrespecting the boss's wife? A capo can't tolerate that."
"So, it was about you, not me?"
He leans in close, his nose touching mine. "If they disrespect you, they're going to die. It's as simple as that. Sit.”
I’ve barely comprehended that final word when he lifts me onto the counter.
The marble is cold, and I stifle a squeak of protest as my nipples stiffen further.
He’s drinking in everything, and his customary cool assessment can’t hide the fire raging behind his eyes for once.
He wants me. How can I want him after what he just confessed? I don't know, but I do.
“Lean back,” he orders, shoving my knees apart. I sink back until my shoulder blades are pressed against the mirror. His breath tickles my chest while he studies my body. Desire builds inside me, like a watch being wound too tight. “I remember the last time you were in here,” he murmurs.
"You caught me."
"And watched you on the hidden cameras after you left."
My jaw drops. “Cameras? You saw-”
“Yes, I saw you in my bedroom the day you claimed my stiletto switchblade, my sweet little thief. And I saw you the night I showered and you watched. I watched you change your shirt by my bed. I wanted you so much that night. I wanted to spank your sweet ass red, and then I wanted to watch you fuck yourself with your fingers.”
I gulp at how dirty but exciting it sounds. “If there are cameras, who will watch this?”
“My house has many security measures, but don’t worry. No one will see this… except me.”
Bending low, he drags one of my nipples into his mouth. An indescribably pleasurable sensation shoots all through me, a paradise I never wish to leave. “Ancora.”
“Give you more? Oh, I will.”
He licks and suckles each bud, drawing more moans from my lips. My legs dangle limply off the edge, but my hands can’t be still. I sink my fingers into his thick hair, amazed by its soft texture when everything else about this man is so hard.