Chapter 7
SEVEN
Gabriele
Though I've left my wife to her own devices for the last couple of days, she hasn't been sitting around twiddling her thumbs as she waits for me to come to her again. In fact, she's been extremely busy spending a fortune online at various home and garden stores.
None of the purchases have been particularly large but when they're added up, they'd make a serious dent in most men's bank balances. Fortunately for her, I am not most men.
She's bought pillows, rugs, some accent pieces for various rooms and plants for both indoors and out. Lukas has kept me apprised of her activities. He told me of her desire to decorate which explains why she bought two dozen tins of ecru paint.
I'm not sure what she intends to do with that. It's hard to picture my elegant wife with a brush in hand.
"She can bring someone in to decorate the dining room, the main living room and her bedroom," I tell Lukas. "Vet them carefully and ensure there are plenty of guards to supervise. If all goes well, she can move on to other parts of the house."
"What about the garden? She seems to have a particular desire to beautify it."
"Isn't Eduardo's brother-in-law a landscaper?"
"Garden architect," Lukas corrects me.
I shake my head, not having realized there was such a thing.
"Bring him round to meet Katya. They can do what they like out there as long as they don't paint the guardhouse neon pink or something equally ridiculous."
Lukas laughs. "Maybe they can disguise it with one of those wooden trellises with vines creeping up it."
I narrow my eyes. "Don't give them ideas." I glance at the diary notification that's popped up on my laptop screen for the third time today. "We've got the St. Pietro's gala on Friday."
"Yes, Santo is on standby to take her shopping for a dress."
"Good, but I was thinking it might be nice for her to spend time with another woman, one of the soldiers' wives, maybe?"
Lukas grins. "You want to set her up on a playdate?"
"I want her to have someone who knows how things work around here."
My oldest friend rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Anna Ricci is a good choice."
"The German girl?"
Lukas nods. "Bastiano's wife. She worked for Fendi when she first moved to Rome."
His knowledge of trivial matters to do with the people around us never fails to surprise me. "How do you know that?"
"Because Bastiano has the most amazing collection of shoes. She got them for him when she worked there. The woman knows fashion and from what I've seen of her she's got her head screwed on right. She won't lead Katya astray."
"But will Katya lead her astray? I don't want conflict with one of my men because my wife gets his into trouble."
Lukas shakes his head. "Katya's not going to do anything stupid. She's young but she's pragmatic. She understands what it means to be a boss's wife."
I consider that for a moment. Anna Ricci would be well placed to introduce Katya to the women in my territory. It would be good for my wife to get to know them if only so I don't have to worry about her making friends elsewhere.
"Set it up. Anna can take Katya shopping tomorrow. Santo will take charge of guard duties but I want three other men with them."
"I'll arrange everything." Lukas gets to his feet. "Now, if there's nothing else, I'm going to watch the match."
"Match?"
Lukas rolls his eyes but he knows I don't keep up with sports, despite our lucrative gambling operations.
"Lazio v AS Roma."
"Right. Did we get much action on that?"
"People always go nuts when there's a local rivalry involved. Betting is up forty-three percent this week."
"Any anomalies?"
"Bets all look legitimate."
"Good. Then go enjoy the match."
Lukas hovers for a moment, giving me a look I can't read.
Then he turns and leaves. For a moment I consider going after him to suggest we watch the match together.
It's been too long since we had a few drinks and relaxed as we used to.
But I've never really been into soccer and my thoughts are pulling me in a different direction.
That seems to be happening a lot lately.
Closing down my laptop, I get up from the desk and pour myself a Scotch. I drink it slowly, relishing the deep oaky taste and the slight burn as it slips down my throat, then make my way upstairs. It's after midnight and when I stop outside Katya's door, there's no light coming from underneath.
That doesn't deter me. It's been two days since I sampled my wife's delectable body for the first time and I want to feel her tight pussy gripping my cock again. I push open the door and switch on the light.
Katya squeals and sits up in bed, instinctively pulling the sheet up to cover herself.
"Gabriele! You frightened me."
"Did I?"
Her brow furrows as I stalk across the room toward her. She drops the sheet, exposing her beautiful breasts tipped by dusky rose nipples.
"Do you want….?" She lets the sentence trail off.
I nod slowly. "Yes, I want."
She smiles softly and throws back the sheet, shuffling over to make room for me on the bed.
"Uh-huh." I shake my head. "Out of bed and face the wall."
There's the barest hint of stiffness in her shoulders, some internal resistance to my command that she quickly overcomes. She scrambles out of bed and moves past the nightstand to face the wall.
"Brace yourself with your hands. I want your legs spread wide."
She complies immediately and I wonder what compels her to obey.
Is it an understanding that she'll be rewarded with pleasure if she does what she's told?
She orgasmed on our wedding night. Perhaps she wants more of the same.
Or maybe she's thinking of the contract she signed that gave me complete access to her body in return for my protection and the lifestyle she desires. It doesn't matter either way.
I unfasten my pants, freeing my cock as I position myself behind her. I run a hand over the curve of her ass. She's wearing black satin panties tonight. French style, I think.
"These are pretty," I murmur as I press myself against her back.
She nods. "I bought them in Pa….oh!" she gasps as I rip them off her.
I raise them to my face and inhale her delicate musky scent before dropping the ruined underwear on the floor.
As I slide my hand between her legs to find my gorgeous wife already wet for me, Katya pushes her hips back impatiently.
"Someone's eager to get fucked. Were you dreaming about me before I came in here?"
"Of course," she purrs.
Pulling my hand back, I smack her ass hard. Katya yelps and glances accusingly over her shoulder.
"Never lie to me, dolcezza." I spank her ass again. "I don't like it."
Fire flares in her eyes.
"Turn and face the wall," I instruct her. "Look at me again and I'll spank your ass raw."
With an indignant snort, she obeys. I like that her compliance comes with a little attitude. It tells me this is not a mere performance for her, that she's present in the moment with me.
I line myself up and slowly push my cock into her.
At this angle, there's more resistance. I reach around and play with her breast a little.
It helps relax her and I will never tire of cupping that soft globe in my hand.
She moans softly as I edge forward to seat my cock fully inside her snug pussy.
"How does it feel?" I ask her.
"Good."
"Good, how?"
"Like this is what we were made for."
It's a perfect answer and I wish she hadn't given it. Something shifts in my chest, a sensation I can’t name. I bury it deep.
"This will be hard and fast." I don't know why I warn her.
Pulling almost all the way out of her, I slam into her once more. Katya cries out, a sound caught somewhere between pain and pleasure that's the sweetest music to my ears. I make it my mission to elicit that exact cry from her again and again.
My pace as I fuck her is punishing. I pivot my hips, stirring my cock inside her. Katya scrabbles at the wall with her fingers, trying to find something to hold onto.
"Gabriele!" My name is a prayer on her crimson lips.
She pushes back, trying to meet my thrusts but she can't match my ferocity.
I wrap an arm around her waist, holding her immobile as I slake my desires on her willing body.
Katya whimpers and moans as I slide a hand up to squeeze her breast hard.
Her pussy clamps down on my length and her legs quiver. She's close, but not there yet.
"Gabriele, please!" she begs. I doubt she knows what for.
"Don't worry, principessa. You'll get what you need."
As my cock swells inside her, I twist her nipple between my fingers, hard enough to send a jolt of pain through her.
She shrieks and then it happens. Her hips buck against me and her head drops back against my shoulder.
I stroke her hair back from her face as her tight channel clenches, milking every drop of cum from me.
I pull out and hold her for a moment. Not because I need her in my arms, but because her legs would give way if I didn't. At least, that's what I tell myself.
After a minute, the trembling in her body subsides. She eases herself out of my hold, then does something I'm not ready for. She throws her arms around my neck and kisses my face. Not the clear, unblemished side. She presses her lips to the hideous trail the bottle carved down my cheek.
"Katya." My tone is firm as I disentangle myself from her and step back. "That's enough."
Tears glisten in her eyes that seem to be as much a product of anger as they are of sadness. Lips set in a straight line, she blinks them away. I feel like an asshole but I won't encourage affection. I can't, knowing where it leads.
"Get into bed," I tell her.
She crawls onto the bed and covers herself with the sheet. The pout remains on her face as I tuck myself back into my clothes.
"You're going shopping in the morning," I inform her. "We have a black-tie event and you need something appropriate."
"Okay." She perks up at that. I'm not sure if it's the prospect of a party or the shopping trip that has her smiling.
"I've arranged for someone to go with you. Anna is the wife of one of my men. She knows about fashion and I think you'll get on."
Katya rolls her eyes. "Sure, because all it takes is a mutual love of pretty dresses for women to bond, right?"
Honestly, I have no idea what women forge friendships over but the sarcasm in her voice tells me it's more than shopping.
"If you don't like her, chop her to pieces and throw her in the river. I don't care. I just thought you'd like a companion."
Katya nods. "Okay. I'm sure it will be fun. Where should I shop?"
"Try the Via Condotti. You'll find whatever you need there."
She nods slowly. "Yes, I've heard of this street. It's like Rome's answer to Nevsky Prospekt, yes?"
I bristle at the comparison. "It's better."
Katya laughs. "Of course it is. All Italian things are better." Her eyes glisten with mischief. "The Spanish Steps are near there."
"They are."
"Can I go? And the Colosseum — is that far? And the Circus Maximus and…"
I hold up a hand to stop her. As much as I love her enthusiasm, it's too late in the evening for this. "You can see the Spanish Steps, certainly, but the other things — it's too much for one day. Your guards have other duties to attend to."
"You're right," Katya agrees easily. "I'll save the sightseeing for another day, when you can take me."
It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her no, I won't be playing tour guide, but the hopeful expression on her face does something to me. I find myself nodding.
"Yes, one day soon we'll play tourist."
Before she can launch herself off the bed and hug me again, I step back.
"Now, get some sleep, Katya."
"Sì, Signore Volante." She settles onto her pillows. "Whatever you say."
As I turn and leave the room, I shake my head.
Whatever I say. Why do I get the feeling it's not going to be as simple as that?
There's more to this woman than meets the eye and suddenly I can't wait to find out what it is.
For the first time in recent memory, I'm excited about something, and it's the feisty Russian brunette I married to keep safe. How the hell did this happen?