Chapter 30 Francesca
Francesca
"Ididn’t mean to piss you off,” Renato grumbles when he stops the car in front of the Vicini’s enormous townhouse. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I give him a stiff nod. “Fine but let a woman pee in peace.”
In truth, Renato barging into the ladies’ room gave me a valid excuse for my complete shock and then quiet retreat while I collected myself after Maeve’s appearance. I’m still stunned by the encounter.
Because I want to have a good relationship with Carlo’s family though, I give him a more natural smile as he leads me inside. “Thank you for being concerned.”
He flashes a quick grin my way before a bodyguard appears in the foyer, curious about our arrival. They start talking quietly about some meeting and the Bratva, but I have no interest in that.
This is only the second time I’ve set foot in this house when I wasn’t essentially a captive.
The De Luca mansion in Las Vegas and Uncle Enzo’s sprawling home in Reno were modern and bright with lots of windows.
Carlo’s penthouse has a similar style but boasts skyscrapers and Central Park for a view instead of the desert or a pool.
This house is older, grander in a way, the polished dark wood floors and elegant antique furniture all reeking of good taste and immense wealth.
At a sound above, my attention is drawn to the little girl gliding down the stairs toward us in salmon-colored overalls with her long, black hair braided over one shoulder.
She’s wearing a straw hat and carrying a handful of small purple ceramic pots, the type I picture sitting on a kitchen windowsill with seedlings in them.
Giulia smiles, recognizing me as I sign, “Hello.” I wish my skills were better.
“Hello,” she replies, the first time I’ve heard her speak. Her voice is soft, and her pronunciation is slightly different, but I understand her perfectly well.
“What’s up, rabbit?” Renato asks her, having joined us. He’s signing the words as he speaks.
Giulia’s eyes narrow in a familiar way. I often gave Ronan that look when he was being annoying. “Rabbit?” I repeat.
Giulia carefully sets down her pots before she starts signing something which makes Renato snort. “I call her rabbit because she’s into gardening. Watch your language, little one,” he says directly to her, but he’s grinning.
“What’s wrong with gardening?” I ask.
“What seven-year-old wants to dig in the dirt while wearing old-lady clothes?”
“Clever and industrious ones.” I turn toward Giulia again, signing my question. “May I join you?”
Giulia’s eyes widen and a grin spreads across her face as she rushes forward, grasping my hand and pulling me along. She throws a questioning glance back over her shoulder at Renato, but he shakes his head before replying, “Torture Frankie with your worms and dirt, rabbit.”
Giulia laughs, a unique but sweet sound, before covering her mouth and blushing. Taking her hand in mine, I wait until she looks up at me to say, “Gardening sounds like more fun than hanging out with Renato.”
She smothers her giggles this time, but her eyes are sparkling as we both pick up her little purple pots and head toward the back of the house.
***
Sinking into the hot water of the large tub, I inhale the relaxing fragrance of the bath oil as the heat soothes my various aches and troubled heart. I had a busy hour with Giulia in her flower garden.
"Father is ashamed of me." She'd signed the words, and it took me a bit to understand before I'd vehemently shook my head, wanting to deny it. Guilia's sad smile broke my heart when she'd signed, "He is."
"He shouldn't be," I'd replied. "Does Carlo…"
"Carlo is a good brother," she'd signed, her eyes shining with obvious affection. "I'm happy he married you."
My ASL needs work, but I did my best to sign what I was feeling – "I am happy to have you for a sister." The sweet girl's hug had a lump forming in my throat.
When Fiorella returned, I tried my best to play the good daughter-in-law as I drank my afternoon espresso and listened to her complain about the headaches planning my wedding reception is causing her. Maybe I should’ve been more open to helping.
But when I mentioned I could pitch in, provided it didn’t interfere with my music studies, Fiorella stared at me like I’d grown a second head. Either she didn’t know about Juilliard, or she has no faith in my abilities to plan a large party. Maybe both.
Thankfully, Renato rescued me before I could be invited to stay for dinner.
I called Mom after we returned here, happy to hear her voice but a little sad, too.
She was overjoyed by my news regarding school and said she couldn’t wait to see me next month.
But I couldn’t tell her about my encounter with Maeve or Ronan’s message over the phone or ask her for advice.
I don’t want my brother to do something stupid, and I don’t want him to harm Carlo either.
It’s true the marriage wasn’t my choice but, now that I’m in it, I find myself unsure of what I want exactly.
One thing I definitely won’t do is tell Carlo about my meeting with Maeve. The Trio still wants Ronan dead. I will never play any part in helping them achieve that goal.
I’m hoping the glass of wine I poured will help with my frayed nerves, but I’ve barely taken a sip when muffled noises and deep male voices below tell me Carlo has made it home.
It’s nearly nine. Dinora left hours ago, and Renato had been content scrolling his phone when I’d slipped upstairs for this bath.
My heart speeds up when I hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, and a different sort of ache begins to pool in my belly while I wait.
A soft knock and, when I bid him to enter, he does so wordlessly, noting my little sanctuary of candlelight before his eyes slowly slide down my body.
His suit jacket and tie are absent. His shirt is open, exposing his Trio tattoo, and his sleeves are rolled up.
A sexy smirk forms as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub.
It reminds me of that first night we shared.
I was making a deal with the devil then and, right now, I’m not all that sorry I got played.
His forearm passes right by my nose when he reaches for the wine glass on the other side.
The strong, acrid smell of smoke clings to him.
Has he been at a bonfire or something? He takes a sip of the wine, and I silently watch his throat bob as he swallows, wondering why that feeds the fire simmering beneath my skin.
“This is the second time I’ve had the pleasure of watching you take a bath.”
“I saw your mother and Giulia today.”
“I know.”
Of course, he does. I’m sure my movements are reported regularly while I rarely hear what he’s up to. “You missed dinner,” I comment, noting his dark hair is slightly mussed. Something poisonous slithers into my belly as I wonder again where he’s been all these hours.
He finishes off the wine before responding. “I wish that hadn’t been the case. This morning aside, it was a fucked-up day.”
“So, you’ve not been busy seeing other women after you had another taste of your wife this morning?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
He has the audacity to chuckle over my pitiful moment of jealousy. “I spent my day with Luca and our men after a meeting with my father. We had to pay a call in Little Odessa. The Bratva had a warehouse there.”
Had. A clear distinction. I have a feeling the smoky smell is linked to that. “Was there danger for you and Luca?” I ask, worry furrowing my brow.
“Not anymore.”
Carlo has always seemed different than my cousin Alessio, dangerous but far more polished and controlled.
But tonight, there’s a strong similarity I can’t ignore.
Studying him closer in the candlelight, I notice a few dark, rust-colored spots on his white shirt.
Dried blood. No sooner than the realization arrives, I catch a slight coppery smell mixing with the lavender and herb fragrances and the hint of smoke.
“What happened to the Russians at the warehouse?”
“They answered a few questions.”
“Willingly?”
“Oh, they sang like little birds for me but not as beautifully as my siren.”
When our eyes meet again, there’s something very wrong lurking in those brown eyes, a darkness that should scare me. It would certainly scare a good woman, a normal woman. So why does that ache between my legs grow stronger?
“I like coming home to find you like this, mia moglie.” He rakes me from head to toe again, the unbridled lust kindling in his eyes making my belly clench in the most delightful way. Still, I liked that he was sharing things with me. I don’t want that to end yet.
“Do you want to talk about your day some more?”
He shakes his head, dragging a hand through the warm water and gently tracing the outside of my knee. Tingles race from the spot to my core. “Not right now,” he says, gruffly, still staring at me with raw hunger.
He’s shielding me from ugly truths. Or maybe he doesn’t trust me with them. Either way, I don’t want to fight about it. “Would you like to join me in my bath?”
His dark eyes snap back to mine, trying to read me, but he can’t disguise the fact he wants to. “I’m not quite myself at the moment, Francesca. You’re probably sore, too.”
I am, but I don’t want to let it hold me back. “I’m fine,” I tell him.
He shakes his head again. “I think it would be best if…”
I sit up a little higher and his words trail off.
My nipples pebble the instant they’re hit with the cool air.
“I’m fine,” I say, more firmly. I spread my legs wider, allowing him a better glimpse of what’s between them.
“I had a busy day, too, and you drank up the wine meant to relax me. You could relax me… or will that be up to me?” I give him a coquettish smile before letting my hand sink down and maintaining eye contact as I lightly caress my pussy lips.
“Fuck,” he rasps, lunging forward to capture my mouth for a harsh kiss.
I savor it kiss, running my wet hands over his shirt, earning a growl when I tear it from his shoulders.
He stands and my pulse pounds between my thighs as he tears off his pants and underwear next.
Flushed and excited, I greedily stare at his gorgeous body and watch his cock grow harder as it rapidly fills with blood.
He steps into the tub between my legs and then pulls me to my feet. The water slides down my body, and I shiver from the chill, but he rests his big strong hands on my ass and murmurs against my ear, “I need you, but I want to take care of you, too.”
I cup his face, peering up at him. “Take care of me by taking what you need from me tonight, Carlo.”
He dips his head down for another searing kiss, then, turning us, he takes my place, sinking against the back of the tub. “Sit on my thighs and face me. Spread your legs and let me see that pretty pussy,” he commands.
Doing as he says, my body erupts with goosebumps from the heat of his gaze.
His hands rub up and down my arms and along my back before tangling in my hair.
He pulls the band out I’d used to keep it out of the water and my curls brush my shoulders and the top of my breasts.
“Bellissima sirena,” he rumbles. I rock forward, bracing myself against his chest and trying to figure out how cowgirl-style works in a bathtub.
“No, let’s get you truly wet first, Francesca. ”
“We’re in the water.”
“Water doesn’t lubricate the way your arousal does. There’s more to learn than simply fucking, and I’m going to relish every little thing I get to teach you. Now, touch yourself while sitting on top of me. I’m going to touch you, too.”
I self-consciously brush my fingers over my center again. “Like this?” I whisper.
“Yes, but I want you to feel good, not perform for me. Have you ever fingered yourself?” he asks, roughly.
I quickly shake my head, drawing my hand back.
If the water hadn’t already pinkened my skin, my cheeks would be doing so now.
He chuckles, resting one hand on my hip as his other kisses the inside of one of my wrists.
“We’ll go slow with our exploring, but there’s no need for you to be embarrassed or intimidated. ”
“What if you want to do something I’m not ready for or don’t want to try?”
“Then, we won’t do it.”
“Okay,” I reply, breathily. Drawing a deep breath, I begin touching myself again.
This time, I focus on what I’m feeling as well as the way Carlo watches me.
The two things combined make it even better.
Slowly, heat begins to coil inside me, and desire floods my senses as he watches me raptly.
A soft moan slips from my lips and his cock twitches.
“I think he wants to touch me, too,” I say, teasingly.
“For certain,” Carlo husks. “But there are no condoms handy.”
“I’ll start taking the pill. If I’m going to school and all…”
“Yes, that’s good.”
His knuckles graze the underside of my breasts. The water sloshes gently around us when his hand joins mine between my thighs. He teases me for a very long time, not giving my clit the attention it craves. I’d call it torture, but my husband is capable of that act for real.
When he finally presses his thumb down on my needy little nub, I grasp his thighs, my fingernails digging into his flesh.
“Carlo…” I beg, glancing down at my nipples which are aching for his mouth.
He leans forward to suck on one pink bud.
Pleasure spirals through me from that point as his thumb flicks my clit, and the world breaks apart behind my eyelids as my climax takes control.
Collapsing against his chest, breathing raggedly, I feel his finger gently swiping my crease and dipping in my entrance. He pops that finger in his mouth and sucks, the sound and his heated stare nearly making me come again.
Aroused and eager for more, I lift myself off his thighs and move forward, hovering over his erection. “Can we…”
“I’ll pull out before I come, okay?” he breathes, sounding as desperate as I am.
Nodding, my hand wraps around his base, rubbing his tip along my crease before I slowly lower myself down his length, savoring his sexy growl.