Chapter 20
TWENTY
Katya
We're barely through the front door when Gabriele turns and takes my face in both hands and kisses me. It's crazy that we've been married for weeks and this is our first proper kiss.
I'd begun to wonder if it would ever happen, if Gabriele would avoid it like he's dodged so many other forms of closeness. I stopped expecting him to kiss me, yet I thought about what it would be like.
A part of me worried it would be different, that the distortion at the corner of his mouth would make this unpleasant somehow. It doesn't.
Gabriele kisses me slowly at first, with a reverence that almost makes me cry. I feel a gentle stirring that goes right to the tips of my toes, a gradual awakening of my senses. He coaxes my lips apart. His tongue slides into my mouth and deepens the kiss.
When he pulls back, there's a faint smile on his lips.
"Upstairs," he says.
Taking my hand, he leads me to his bedroom, not mine. That's significant, I think. We've been in here before but he'd been distracted.
This time he's brought me into his inner sanctum deliberately. It feels like it means something though I don't yet know what.
We stop by the bed, the late afternoon sun bathing us in its golden glow. Gabriele reaches out and unfastens the tie at my waist.
"I like this dress," he says as he unwraps it and pushes it off my shoulders.
He admires me in my black lace bra and panties.
"I like those too." He waves a finger at my underwear. "But it has to go."
I reach back and unhook my bra, letting it drop to the floor. I shimmy out of my underwear, making sure to give my hips a sexy little wiggle. Heat flares in Gabriele's eye and I can't help the satisfaction that swells my chest. This man cannot resist me.
He undresses without ceremony. My mouth goes dry because Gabriele Volante is a sight to behold.
"Get on the bed."
As always the command in his voice sends a shiver of anticipation through me. Who would have thought I would respond so well to being told what to do?
I turn toward the bed and bend to drape my torso over the mattress.
"No." The word cuts sharply through the air and I turn to Gabriele, confused.
"On your back," he says.
"Not…."
"On your back, Katya."
I clamber onto the bed and lie on it, my head on the pillows. Gabriele moves to the foot of the bed.
"Open your legs. Show me what's mine."
I do as he asks, spreading my thighs wide. Gabriele stares down at me for several long seconds. It takes everything I have in me not to close my legs.
There's something mortifying about lying here on display. But when I look at my husband's face and see the reverence there, any sense of vulnerability I experienced fades away.
The mattress dips as he climbs onto it. He comes down over me, taking my lips with his once more. His hand skims my side with a deliberateness that's both tender and maddening. I want more.
He kisses his way down my throat and takes my right nipple into his mouth. As he sucks gently, I reach down to tangle my fingers in his hair. Gabriele immediately stops what he's doing.
"Hands above your head, Katya. Clasp your fingers together and do not move or I'll be forced to bind you."
Though the prospect of that doesn't scare me as much as it once would, I'm not ready for that yet so I do as he instructed, raising my hands above my head.
"Good girl."
He returns his attention to my nipple, sucking gently until he pulls a low moan from deep inside me. Then he moves to my other nipple and gives it the same delicious treatment. I sigh contentedly as he moves slowly downward, pausing to dip his tongue into my bellybutton. That makes me squeal.
Gabriele looks up at me, an eyebrow raised. "Ticklish?"
"Maybe." The sensation was unlike anything I've felt before.
He continues his downward journey, placing kisses on my abdomen before moving to my pubic mound. He opens me up and runs his tongue along the length of my pussy in one continuous stroke.
"Oh, fuck!" I murmur as he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue.
"Patience." I feel him smirking against me. "We'll get to it."
He carries on laving my hypersensitive flesh with his tongue until my head is thrashing from side to side. The pressure building at my core is unbearable but, just as I'm on the precipice, he pulls back.
"Gabriele!" I grumble.
"Oh? Did you want to come?"
"Yes," I whine.
"You may, but you'll do it on my cock."
I make a move to roll over onto my stomach, but he stops me. He slides up my body, positioning his cock at my entrance. I practically hold my breath. Is this it? Will he finally let me watch him come undone?
He slides into me with practiced ease and holds himself still for a second. Burying his face in the crook of my neck, he starts to move.
"Gabriele!" I say firmly, but he's already thrusting into me, establishing a slow but steady rhythm. I slap his shoulder, hard. "Gabriele."
He pauses. Waits for me to speak.
"I want to see you."
A heartbeat passes. Then two. Then a third.
Finally, Gabriele moves. He raises himself up onto his hands and stares into my eyes.
Not waiting for permission, I unclasp my hands and bring them down to cup his face.
I kiss his cheek, brushing my lips gently over his scars.
Then I gently remove the patch from his eye.
He lets me. I study him closely, letting him know that I see the damage and I’m not repulsed by it.
I brush the back of my fingers over his scarred eyebrow and wait.
For a moment, he looks stunned. "I want to make love to my husband, not a pirate," I say.
Gabriele barks out a laugh.
"You are going to get so fucked, Signora Volante."
"Good," I say. "Get on with it."
Lifting my leg over his hip, Gabriele angles his thrusts, going deeper than before.
He makes good on his promise and fucks me like he's trying to punish and reward me all at once.
He grinds his hips against mine as he moves his cock inside me.
I gasp and moan as the ripples of sensation become a wave I can't hold back.
I come, screaming his name, but he's not done with me. Getting to his feet, he drags me to the edge of the bed and pulls my feet up to rest on his shoulders. I dig my nails into the mattress beneath me as he plows into my body, helpless to resist his sensual onslaught.
It doesn't take long for another orgasm to build.
It starts as a whisper, a fluttering in my pussy, and turns into a scream as I yell in ecstasy.
Gabriele follows me a minute later, his hips jerking erratically.
He pulls out of me and drops onto the bed beside me.
I curl in toward him as he wraps an arm around my shoulder.
I prop myself up on my elbow and gaze down at him.
"You've been using the cream I bought you." The skin around his eye looks less irritated.
"Of course I have. I've used all the gifts you gave me."
"Not the cufflinks," I point out.
He considers that for a moment. "I've been waiting for the right occasion. I don't wear them every day."
"Okay, that's fair. So when will the right occasion be?"
"Tomorrow night, I suppose."
"What's tomorrow night?"
"A meeting at a club." He grimaces, clearly not looking forward to it. "Gianfranco Maroni."
"Don't you like him?"
"Never met him. He's running for mayor. He wants my endorsement." He pauses to reconsider. "Or more likely my money and influence."
By now I recognize the signs my husband is dreading something. He goes incredibly still and stares at a fixed point ahead of him. He closes his eye and breathes in deep. Holds it for the count of four and then releases the breath.
"Can I come?" I ask.
He turns his head. "You want to come to a meeting with a mayoral candidate?"
"I do love a spot of bribery and corruption over cocktails."
Gabriele frowns as he tries to work out whether to take me seriously. Then he nods.
"You can come if you want to."
"Good. I can't wait." I consider my wardrobe. "What does one wear to decide whether to fix an election?"
"Whatever you'd normally wear to dinner at a Michelin starred restaurant." He thinks for a moment. "Something blue."
"I can do that. I'll go shopping tomorrow." I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. There's something I haven't told him yet. "After I have lunch with my mother."
Gabriele pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He turns to me. "You're meeting your mother? When did that happen?"
"I called her this morning. Thought it was time to let her know where I am, what I'm doing."
"You didn't think to tell me before you called her?"
"It's my mother, Gabriele."
He nods. "Yes, your mother who's married to your father."
"Yes, but she agreed to come alone. She's my mother, Gabriele. I left home without a word. She's been worried about me."
Actually, I'm not sure how worried she was about me versus how much she fears I've wrecked the family's reputation.
"You should have told me before now."
"Don't you monitor my calls?"
"Not that closely. Not since we dealt with Orlov."
Oh, that's surprising. I'm pleased at what I think is a show of trust and then disappointed that he's not obsessing over me twenty-four hours a day.
"It's no big deal."
"Of course it is. I'll have to move things around."
I shake my head. "Oh, no, you are not coming with me."
"You can't go alone."
"It's lunch. In Rome. With my mother." I enunciate each word clearly. "I'll take Santo. It will be fine."
"You'll take Santo, Francesco and Roberto."
"Okay," I agree. "Now be grateful I saved you from having to meet the St. Petersburg piranha."
"The St. Petersburg piranha?"
"I just made that up but I might spread it around, see if it sticks. My mother hates nicknames."
"So how will she feel about you marrying the Beast of Rome?"
"When I tell her how wealthy you are, she'll be fine. You don't have a yacht hidden somewhere I could impress her with."
Gabriele shakes his head. "I don't like sailing."
"Ah, that explains your reluctance to take me on the rowing boats."
He throws back his head and laughs, a sound of sheer delight that rumbles up from his belly. It takes him a minute to get hold of himself. He pulls me up into his arms.
"Oh, Katya, what am I going to do with you?"
"You already asked that, and you did it."
I extract myself from his embrace and jump down from the bed. "But if you want to join me in the shower, we can see what else is possible."
I hold my hand out and he takes it. As we reach the door to his bathroom he pauses to stare down at me with a look I can't decipher. He sweeps the hair back from my face.
"My wife," he says, "is an incredible woman."
"She knows."
"Does she know I'm glad I married her?" He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "That I can't imagine life without her?"
I lean forward and press my face into the crook of his neck. His arms come around me. I breathe in his warm, masculine scent.
"She does now," I say, my voice cracking slightly. "She does now."