14. Arabella
Chapter 14
Arabella
“ T hat must be a good book,” I say to my sister as I place another platter of food on the table.
“So good,” she replies as she reaches out, grabs an olive, and pops it in her mouth. She doesn’t even take her eyes off the damn page, so I reach across the table and pluck it out of her hand. “Hey, I was reading that.”
“Dinner is ready.”
My eyes flicker down to the page she is on as I go to close the book, and they widen to the size of saucers when I glance over some of the text. Although the book is written in Italian, there’s no mistaking what I’m reading.
“Her tongue lapped at the salty pre-cum that beaded on the tip of his erect shaft …”
“Lucia Gabriella Rossi! What on earth are you reading?” I ask as I use my free hand to do the sign of the cross. “Is this porn?”
“No, it’s a romance novel … there’s a distinct difference.”
“She’s lapping at his …” I feel my cheeks heat, unable to finish that sentence.
“The pre-cum on his salami stick? ”
I gasp, and my husband barks out a laugh. “Let me see that,” he says, extending his hand and wiggling his fingers.
“No!” I snap, cradling it to my chest. The last thing my sister needs is his encouragement.
“Do they actually refer to his dick as a salami stick?” Dante asks.
“No,” Lucia chimes in. “Cock, dick, member, shaft, erection … stuff like that.”
This has Dante chuckling again.
“Lucia,” I snap.
“What? I just answered Dante’s question. Did you expect me to spell out the dirty words? I’m an adult now; I’m allowed to swear.”
“Your sister refers to it as a thing or a penis.”
My eyes narrow as they flick to my husband. Lucia just giggles.
“Where did you get this book from? And why are you reading it?” I grumble.
“Pepi’s wife.”
“Pepi, our driver?”
“Yes.”
“Does Papa know you are reading these kinds of books? And why is Pepi giving them to you? Is something going on between the two of you?”
“Me and Pepi … eww. No! He’s married. They are his wife’s books. I was bored after you left, so he brought me some reading material … something to help occupy my time.”
“Did he know what kind of books they were?”
“Probably not. There were only a few romances in there that were stuffed at the bottom of the box. There was a variety of genres. Thrillers, historical, paranormal … stuff like that.”
“I … I have no words.”
Lucia raises her eyebrows and flashes one of her mischievous grins, looking like the cat that got the canary. “They’re very educational. ”
“Maybe you should let your sister read them,” Dante chimes in, and my eyes narrow further.
“Papa will kill you, as well as Pepi, if he finds out you’re reading this kind of thing.”
“Relax,” she replies. “I’ve hidden the juicy ones.”
“Lucia …”
“At least when Papa marries me off, I’m going to be somewhat experienced.”
My eyes widen again. “What if he makes you marry someone past their used-by date like you fear?”
She casually lifts one shoulder. “Then I’ll ride his old, wrinkly salami stick so hard he keels over and dies.”
I audibly gasp, but my husband throws back his head and cracks up laughing.
When I exit the bathroom, dressed and ready for bed, my eyes flicker towards my husband, who’s lying on top of the sheets, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. He’s been quiet all evening, seemingly lost in thought.
Something is troubling him, but I have no idea what. The Cosa Nostra is fraught with secrets, especially to anyone on the outside, so if it’s a business matter, I wouldn’t expect him to answer even if I asked the question.
Since coming to Australia, I’ve noticed how much Dante Mancini cares about the people in his life … his men, me, and even my sister. He’s a protector; it just comes naturally to him, and I gravitate towards that. It’s something I didn’t have growing up.
I move around to my side of the bed and pick up the hand cream from the bedside table, squeezing a small amount into the palm of my hand as I continue to observe my husband. He still hasn’t acknowledged my presence .
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Huh?” he replies, snapping out of his haze and turning his confused face in my direction.
“You seemed troubled by something.”
A small smile tugs at his lips as his arms reach for me. “Come here,” he murmurs.
It doesn’t go unnoticed that he brushed off my concern, but I know not to push the subject.
The moment I place one knee on the mattress, he grasps my waist, and I release a small squeak when he tugs me down on top of him.
“How are you feeling, Bellezza ?” he asks.
“Fine … a little concerned about you, though.”
“I meant down there.” He juts his chin in that direction.
“Oh … umm … good.”
When I used the bathroom after we had sex, I experienced a little discomfort; it stung, but everything seems back to normal now.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, flipping us over so he’s now on top. “I need to lose myself in my wife.”
Although his words have me smiling, they also confirm that there’s something else going on … something he’s not prepared to talk about. It is one of the pitfalls of his world. It could be anything, including pending danger, and that thought knots my stomach.
My eyes scan over his face as he stares down at me, and I’m surprised by the level of concern I’m feeling for this man and his safety. It proves that I care about him more than I’d ever admit.
“Are you ready for another lesson?” he asks, arching one of his brows.
“Lesson?”
“Yes, in the art of how to please your husband. I can teach you far better than those books Lucia is reading.”
I feel heat flame my cheeks. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. ”
“Do you wanna lick my salami stick, Arabella?”
“Oh, God,” I groan, burying my face in the crook of his neck.
I feel his chest rumble with laughter as he draws back to make eye contact. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”
“I should’ve clued on that something was going on because she’s been comparing the size of men’s anatomy since she arrived. Specifically, putting them into either the salsiccia piccola o grande (Small or large sausage) category.
That has him chuckling again. “I definitely fall into the salsiccia grande (Large sausage) category.”
“Lucia has already established that.”
His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Have you been bragging about me to her?”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“Hmm,” he hums, so I playfully pinch his side. “Ouch, what was that for?”
“For being presuntuoso (Conceited).”
“I’m just calling it how I see it.”
He rolls us back over, so I’m now the one on top. “It’s time to play, lick the salsiccia grande (Large sausage), Mrs Mancini.”
“How exciting,” I mock, my voice dripping with sarcasm, though I can’t deny the thrill that comes with one of his lessons. I get just as much—if not more—pleasure from these encounters.
His hands slide under my arms, effortlessly gliding me down his body until I reach his waist.
Dante parts his legs, and I drop in between them. “Get on your knees, Arabella?” he orders.
I place my hands on his quadriceps and push myself up until I’m sitting back on my hunches.
Dante raises his pelvis off the mattress and tugs down his boxers until his erect penis springs free.
“How are you hard already?” I ask .
“The thought of my dick disappearing between those pretty fucking lips of yours, Bellezza , makes me insane with need.”
His dirty words have moisture flooding my underwear.
I reach out and wrap my fingers around the base. I’ve already completed my tutorial on how to jerk him off, so I start there, slowly moving my hand up and down.
When his eyes roll back in his head, and he groans, I lean forward, taking advice from Lucia’s book. I flatten my tongue against the crown and lick the salty pre-cum beading at his slit.
“Arabella,” he breathes, sliding his hands into my hair and tugging slightly.
It’s enough to spur me on further. I begin to lick his length from the base to the tip. I do this over and over until Dante eventually grasps my head between his hands, halting me.
“It’s not a fucking lollypop. You need to put it in your mouth.”
One of his hands moves to cover mine as he shifts his penis into an upright position. “Open up those plump lips of yours,” he commands. “Be careful with your teeth,” he warns as he guides it into my mouth.
My eyes move up to lock with his as my lips slide down his length, with a little too much gusto because when the tip slams into the back of my throat, I gag. It has me quickly withdrawing.
“I think I just bruised my tonsils,” I say, swiping the back of my hand across my mouth to wipe away the saliva. When his shoulders bob with laughter, my eyes narrow. “It’s not funny.”
Once he stifles his amusement, he says, “That’s what happens when you get ahead of yourself. I told you to put it in your mouth, not deepthroat me. You’re a beginner, not a porn star, Arabella. Know your place.”
I gasp .
Know my place!
How dare he?
I’ve become so used to his praise that those harsh words cut through me like a knife.
Tears burn the back of my eyes as I go to retreat off the bed, but he quickly sits up and snags my arm. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Arabella,” he says, tugging me forward and capturing me around the waist.
“I know my place,” I reply, my voice cracking. “I’m a European woman who grew up with a cruel, misogynistic father. I was reminded every day of my lack of worth.”
“Shit. It was a joke. I didn’t mean it like that. Hey,” he adds when I turn my face away from him. “Look at me, Angelo (Angel).”
“No!”
Dante grips my chin between his forefinger and thumb, dragging my attention back to him. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs when he sees the tears pooling in my eyes. “Come here.”
He pulls my face down into his chest as he wraps me tightly in his arms. “ Sei la mia stella, perdonami (You are my star, forgive me).”
When he calls me that and asks for forgiveness before tenderly cupping my face and peppering kisses on my eyelids, I melt into a puddle, finding it impossible to hold a grudge.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“I forgive you … this time .”
“I could kill your father for the grief he’s caused you over the years.”
“Trust me when I say I’ve wished for that very thing more times than I can count.”
“Say the word, Bellezza , and it’s done. ”
The corners of my lips curve up slightly. “Thank you for saying that. I appreciate it, I do, but I would never ask that of you … of anyone.”
“The offer stands if you change your mind. You’re my wife, and it’s my responsibility to care for you, right the wrongs done to you, and most importantly, keep you safe.”
I clear my throat, unsure how to reply to that. The sentiment behind his offer may be sweet, but violence is never the way. This side of him terrifies me and reminds me of the stark difference between us.
“Where were we?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from murdering my father.
Dante flips us over again, so I’m now pinned underneath him, and honestly, all this spinning back and forth is making me dizzy. I feel like a rotisserie chicken.
He gently skims a lock of hair off my forehead. “How about we save that lesson for another day?”
“How about we never revisit it?” I growl when I feel his body vibrating with laughter again. “Stop laughing. It feels like you’re making fun of me.”
He clears his throat, but the bastardo is still smiling. “I’m sorry.”
“Humph,” I huff, believing this apology far less than the last.
Dipping his face, he places his lips against mine, and my anger is soon forgotten.
I slide my hands around his neck when his tongue probes my lips, seeking access. I happily oblige. I’ve become quite good at this part. I lose track of time as he kisses me senseless. His mouth is both possessive and demanding.
I’m left breathless when he eventually draws back and pushes up on his arms, moving off the bed.
He removes his boxers in one quick swoop, and my eyes immediately gravitate towards his erect penis that hangs heavy between his legs .
He gestures for me to sit up. My nightgown is next to go. “You have a tan line.”
My skin is naturally olive, but glancing down at my bare chest, I see the faint triangle outline from the bikini top I was wearing earlier. Lucia and I spent the afternoon swimming and lounging by the pool. It’s very hot here in Australia, and the humidity is stifling. I’m kind of dreading summer.
My father would never have allowed me to wear something so skimpy, and before Dante, I doubt I would’ve wanted to either. This man makes me feel sexy, which, in turn, gives me a kind of confidence I’ve never known. He’s allowed me to embrace my curves and to feel comfortable in my own skin.
“It’s so tranquil by the pool, and the view of the surrounding countryside is breathtaking. We should have our meals out there sometimes.”
“No thanks.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said no,” he bites, and my irritation returns.
“I don’t know what has gotten into you tonight, but you’re acting like a stronzo .”
He pauses, staring down at me for a beat. “Lift up,” he growls.
“What?”
“Your underwear needs to go.”
“Are you going to ignore what I just said?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He blows out a long breath before turning his face to the side, avoiding my gaze. “Because I was sitting by that very pool when I was shot … when my father’s brains were blown out, spraying all over my face.”
I gasp. “What?”
“Please don’t make me repeat what I just said.”
I clamber onto my knees and reach for him. “Dante,” I whisper .
“Don’t,” he says, holding up his hands, but I ignore him, sliding my arms around his waist and resting my cheek against his chest as I hold on tight.
“I’m so sorry. If I had known, I never would’ve ventured out there.”
He eventually hugs me back, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I don’t care if you go out there. Just don’t expect me to do the same.”
I feel dreadful. This is one of the downfalls of marrying a stranger—there’s so much about him and his life before me that I don’t know.
“Let’s make a rule that there’s no more talking in the bedroom. It’s distracting me from burying my cock in your sweet pussy.”
“Do you have to be so crude?”
“We are adults, Arabella. It’s how grown-ups speak.”
“Not me.”
“Well, I do, and I’ve never had any complaints in the past.” His words make my stomach sink like it’s made of lead. I’m not naive enough to think I’m his first, but I still hate the jealousy I feel towards the women who came before me. “This is me, warts and all, Bellezza . Take it or leave it. And just to make it clear, you better pick the former.”
Releasing him, I lie back down on the mattress with a sigh, but he continues to gaze down at me, not saying a word.
“What?”
“I’m waiting for you to choose.”
“I just laid down, didn’t I?”
He smiles as he climbs back onto the bed. “Good call, although I wasn’t exactly giving you an option.”
His cockiness has me rolling my eyes. Of course, he wasn’t.
He dips his face, capturing one of my taut nipples between his lips and sucking it into his warm mouth. I clench my eyes closed as he moves a hand between my legs, spreading me wide.
My fingers knot in the sheets as he glides the tip of his digits through my slick heat.
“Dante,” I whimper.
It only takes a matter of minutes before his skilful fingers and mouth give me my first orgasm of the night. As amazing as it was, I can’t help but feel a little anxious as he settles himself between my legs.
Hopefully, this doesn’t hurt as much as it did last time.
My eyes automatically close again as he runs the crown of his penis back and forth, coating himself. When he pushes the tip in, stretching me to my capacity, I suck in a sharp breath and hold it.
“Arabella,” he groans, stilling. “Open your eyes, Tesoro (Sweetheart).”
“I thought the rule was no talking.”
“Open those pretty green eyes,” he repeats. This time, I do as he asks. “There she is,” he whispers, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on the tip of my nose. “I need to watch you as I slide inside you. I’ll go slow, I promise. I can’t guarantee it won’t hurt, but it will feel better than last time.”
There might be other sides to this man that I don’t see and may never know, but I’m pretty sure this sweet side is part of him that only exists for me.