20. Stefano
Ilay in bed with my eyes closed, feeling her moving as she rolls over in the bed. I don't dare look at her.
If I do, I will reach out and touch her. The fact that she is sleeping in the bed next to me is good enough for now. She obeyed without too much resistance.
But, fuck, I can't stop thinking about the kiss.
I can't stop thinking about how fucking incredible her body felt pinned beneath mine.
She hasn't changed. If anything - the last six years have made her more beautiful.
I force myself to keep my eyes closed and listen to her breathing.
Eventually, I manage to drift off to sleep.
But my dreams are filled with images of her. The things we used to do together.
I vividly remember how she tastes, and I wake up in the morning with my cock so hard it's painful.
I roll towards her side of the bed and find she isn't there. She obviously woke up a while ago because her side of the bed is cold.
I sigh in annoyance.
Tossing the blankets off my body I throw my legs over the side of the bed and head towards the shower.
I don't know what to do to get these images of her out of my head.
It's driving me crazy.
She is driving me crazy. In every way.
She is rude, ungrateful, feisty, fucking sexy and she won't stop talking back.
Maybe I need to take her out somewhere.
It might help to ease some of the tension between us.
One of my clients sent me tickets to the opera. It's not something I would usually choose for myself, but this is a massive client. One of my biggest buyers and I need to be respectful of that. Sometimes business includes attending events that I really don't want to go to.
But with this one - I can take Amelia. She is, after all, my fiancée and I should be showing her off around town.
I dry off and get dressed in my usual black suit.
Heading downstairs I find James.
"I need you to make sure the nurse is available for Elena tonight. Her mother and I are going out."
Amelia, standing in the living room, spins to glare at me with wide eyes.
"Where are we going? I was hoping to watch a movie at home with Elle."
"Elle will be fine with the nurse. You and I are going to the opera."
Before she can protest, I walk away towards the kitchen. I need coffee and I need to contact Caitlyn to arrange a dress for Amelia.
I saw the clothes she brought with her. I don't know what she has been doing for the last six years but she has nothing in her closet that suggests she's been going out anywhere fancy.
Caitlyn drops off three options for Amelia, but she doesn't come in to meet her. Instead, she hurries off, probably still annoyed with me about the other day.
I don't care.
As long as the wedding planning is going well, she can sulk as much as she wants.
I carry the three dress options up to Amelia. She is sitting in the room with Elle who felt strong enough to get out of bed today.
They are on the floor, building Lego blocks - making some sort of bed for the pink elephant.
"Amelia. A word," I say.
She stands up quickly, obviously not wanting me near Elle; she grabs my arms and pulls me out of the room.
"What do you need?" She says, trying to sound polite, but I can hear the tension in her voice.
"There are three dresses in the bedroom. Pick whichever one you like. We are leaving in an hour and a half for the opera. I don't need to remind you, but I will. You are attending this event as my fiancée. We are in public, and I expect you to act as my fiancée."
She pulls her mouth tight.
"Amelia, perhaps you need some additional incentive - if you behave correctly tonight, I will give you a day out with Elena. You two can go anywhere you like. With a guard of course. I will arrange anything you need."
"Really? You'll let me take her somewhere?"
"Yes."
Her eyes seem to brighten a little and her face relaxes. "Alright. I'll go and get ready now. Let me just tell her we're going out tonight."
Amelia disappears, back into Elena's room, and I head off to get ready for the opera as well.
Amelia is ready and waiting downstairs for me when I come down.
"Oh," I say before I have a chance to control my thoughts.
"Oh, what?" She asks, confused.
Oh, you look fucking incredible. Oh, you take my breath away. Oh, I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
"You chose the pink dress," I remark casually.
"Would you prefer I wore one of the others? I can go and change."
"The pink one will do fine." I shrug, nonchalantly. "Let's get going."
Holding the front door open I gesture for her to walk out. She steps around me and walks towards the car. My eyes are on her like a moth drawn to a flame.
The dress hugs her body, flowing over her hips, and caressing her curves.
My body begins to heat with desire. I clear my throat loudly, forcing myself to look away, anywhere but at her ass and the curve of her back.
The driver steps forward to open the door for her and she climbs inside, bending over to slide onto the seat.
Fuck. Get yourself under control, Stefano.
I slide onto the seat alongside her and our legs are touching.
The drive to the opera is quiet, and both of us seem tense. My tension is rising from how sexy she looks, and the way the entire car is filled with her scent.
Her tension - I can't be sure. She's very closed off and cold.
But as soon as the driver opens the door for us outside the opera house that all changes. In an instant.
I don't know what I was expecting from her when I informed her that she had to behave like a proper fiancée - but I was not expecting this.
I climb out of the car first, then turn to offer her my hand. She smiles the most beautiful, wide, and genuine smile that lights up her entire face as she gently places her hand in mine.
Then she steps out of the car and slips her arm around my waist as the media snaps photos of us.
She leans against me, then stares up at me as though I am the most loved person in the world. At first, I admit, I am confused. It feels so real. The look in her eyes is exactly the same as in the past - when she used to love me.
But the voice in the back of my head keeps reminding me - she's acting. She's faking it to earn the incentive.
She's fucking good at this.
We walk into the opera hand in hand. She laughs musically and leans against me whenever we stop to talk to someone. She intertwines her fingers with mine and rubs her thumb over the back of my hand like a secret caress. Attention to the details.
My smile is genuine.
She is pulling at my heart, taunting the edges of my reality.
I want this to be real.
I want her back. The girl I knew in the past. The one that loved me.
But that girl left me.
So do I really want her back?
She found out she was pregnant, and she ran from me.
Was I that much of a monster that she felt she needed to escape?
"Ah, the happy couple. When you told me you were bringing your fiancée, I have to say I was shocked. I couldn't wait to meet her. What kind of a woman steals the heart of a man like Stefano Amalfi?"
My client is grinning at both of us, his eyes tracing up and down Amelia. Heated jealousy fires through me. But can I blame him for looking at her that way?
"Sergio, this is my fiancée, Amelia. Amelia, Sergio is the one who invited us here tonight."
"It's lovely to meet you, Sergio." Amelia smiles and takes his outreached hand. He kisses the back of her hand and she grins, then leans into me again. As if reading my sense of possessiveness and discomfort at him touching her she turns to me, stands on her tiptoes, and nuzzles her face into my neck. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer.
"What can I get you to drink, my love?" I ask her.
"Champagne." She whispers sweetly.
With a nod to Sergio, who is still eyeing Amelia, we head towards the bar.
After doing the rounds and greeting those I know, Amelia and I head up to our private booth for the start of the performance.
We have a balcony overlooking the stage and even though we are alone, people can still look back and see us.
Amelia sits close to me, leaning her head against my shoulder.
When the waiter comes in I order us a platter and a bottle of champagne.
We hardly watch the show at all.
We spend the evening with Amelia giggling at their ridiculous outfits, me laughing at her enjoyment and the champagne bubbles blurring the lines between my understanding of whether she is acting or not.
It all feels so real. The way she reaches out to run her hand over my thigh, the way she stares up at me - the only time I can actually sense her discomfort is during the intermission when she kisses me in front of anyone who cares to glance our way, and her body is stiff against mine. The kiss drives me crazy though. It pushes me to the edge and my body is screaming for more.
We return to our seats and the show continues, I order more champagne, and halfway through the second act Amelia is staring at me, her eyes piercing into me.
I freeze, not daring to move because every fiber in my body is screaming for me to kiss her.
Before I can though - she kisses me.
No one is watching.
There is no one to put a show on for.
Not this time.
She leans forward, her hand traces across my chest and then around the back of my neck.
I wrap my hand around her jaw.
Our lips lock and a wildfire ignites through my entire body.
Next thing I know I've wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her onto my lap. Her dress is pushed up around her thighs, the slit drifting higher than it should be.
She rocks her hips against me, her body as heated as mine as she kisses me with force.
My hands are gliding over her body and she isn't doing anything to stop me, but rather, she's digging her fingers into my shoulder and soft moans are drifting from her lips, against mine.
The audience breaks out in applause and the lights begin to brighten in the opera house.
Amelia's eyes, dark chocolate swirling pools, catch mine and she looks as though she's just woken from a dream.
Perhaps a dream fueled by champagne and dim lighting. The perfect setting to lose yourself in.
She quickly climbs off my lap and pulls her dress straight.
I sit staring over the balcony, waiting for my cock to calm down.
I chuckle to myself, unheard over the buzz of the crowds below us. She wasn't faking that. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.
I don't bother waiting around to say goodbye.
All I can think about is getting Amelia home and the things I want to do to her.
But the ride home is quiet and tense from her side.
She can't hide it from me though. I know how she really feels.
Amelia rushes straight up to the bedroom and when I come in she's already in the shower.
I push the bathroom door open, already stripped out of my clothing.
I open the shower door and step inside, running my hands over her naked back. Frightened, she spins towards me.
"What the fuck are you doing? Get out." She cries out in horror.
But I'm not interested in her pretense. I know what she really wants, no matter what she says.
Beneath the hot steaming spray of water, I grab her waist and pull her against my body.
My cock is already rock-hard.
She squirms and cries out again trying to push me away.
I grab her neck, wrapping my hand tightly around her throat, and press my lips against hers.
I push her back against the shower wall and lift her leg around my waist.
While I'm kissing her my hand traces over her hip, around her thigh, and when my fingers dip into her pussy I know I'm not wrong about her wanting me.
She is ready for me. No matter how much she wants to deny it, she wants me.
A heavy sigh escapes her lips, and she tilts her head back as I slide my fingers in and out of her. She rocks her pussy against my hand, no longer fighting me. Just giving in to what she really wants.
I pick her up, wrapping both of her legs around my waist, my cock rubbing against her pussy, so hard it's hurting, begging to be thrust inside her.
She grabs my face in her hands and kisses me again. This time it's full of passion and need and without even the slightest moment of hesitation.
I grab my cock and push it into her.
She cries out, with pleasure, as I push deeper and deeper inside her. Stretching her open and filling her up.
I begin to thrust, slowly at first, trying to control this insatiable need I feel to possess every inch of her, trying to hold back years of waiting and wanting.
Her nails are digging into my shoulders again and she's arching against me.
I begin to thrust harder, no longer caring about holding back.
I slam into her and she moans loudly. One arm is wrapped beneath her, my hand over her ass holding her against me. The other is pressed into the shower wall above her head.
I forgot how it feels to fuck her.
If I'd remembered I would never have been able to control myself around her.
She is everything.
She feels like heaven on my cock.
The water is running over us as I slam into her again and again and soon, I can feel her body begin to shake. Her legs are locked around me, and her nails are digging too deep into my skin she might be drawing blood.
She leans her head against my neck as her pussy begins to tighten over me.
I grab a handful of her hair and force her head back again.
"Look at me. I want to watch you." I growl.
Her eyes lock with mine and within seconds an orgasm crashes through her.
Her lips part but no sound comes out. Her pupils dilate and her pussy is so tight as it pulses over my cock I can't hold back anymore.
I erupt inside her, waves of pleasure exploding from me.
For a moment neither of us moves.
Our breathing is heavy, and the sound of the shower seems louder.
Then she wiggles, unwrapping her legs and sliding down my body, her feet back on the ground.
Without a word, she finishes washing herself and then quickly climbs out of the shower. Grabbing a towel she doesn't even dry herself in the bathroom, but rather goes through to the bedroom.
I shake my head.
She doesn't look happy.
When I'm done showering I come through to find her sitting on the edge of the bed in her sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"Can I please sleep in a different room tonight?" She asks without looking at me.
"Why?" I snap angrily.
I know why.
She's embarrassed about what just happened. She regrets it and wants to pretend she didn't enjoy it.
"I'm asking, please." She says, still staring at the floor.
"No. You may not. Get into bed and go to sleep." I snarl, upset that she still can't just accept that she wants me as much as I want her.
I shake my head and throw the blankets open, sliding beneath them naked. I wasn't going to sleep naked tonight, but because she wants to play games with me - I will play games with her as well.