Chapter 18
“Don Ricci, you are very lucky that the bullet grazed your right shoulder…this time. If it was any closer to your axillary artery, we wouldn’t be having a conversation,” Doctor Lucien says in his monotoned voice. “We’d be getting a funeral ready.”
His eyes narrow as he threads the needle through my skin, and I grind my teeth.
This man has not aged a single day with his black thick hair, styled perfectly with not a strand out of place, his dark eyes.
Doctor Lucien is on my payroll and has fixed myself up many times along with my men. He does not ask questions.
I watch as he puts on the last finishing touches to the stitches, lying in my bed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Isabella stands to the left side of the room, hugging herself and looking down at her feet.
She has not looked at me since we got home from the restaurant nor has, she spoken a word.
All I want to do is hold her in my arms, kiss her sinful lips, and tell her everything is all right when I know deep down that it’s not.
Someone is targeting me. Targeting my business. Targeting my wife.
Doctor Lucien lets out a heavy sigh as he finishes, packs up all his items, and flatly says, “Rules apply as always. No heavy lifting. No crazy antics. But I know you never listen.” He turns to my wife and says with a little more of a softer tone, “Mrs. Ricci,” she lifts her head, “please change his dressing tomorrow and he can get it wet by then. If there are any changes or a hint of an infection, you can have Angelo give me a call. Until then, only some acetaminophen for the pain.” He spins back to me, picks up his bag, and goes to leave.
She drops her head back to her feet.
My gaze is still on Isabella, and I wait for the door to close before I say a word. “Isabella, look at me.” Her head shakes. “Isabella, I said look at me.” My voice comes out harder, demanding.
She raises her head to look at me, and from across the room I can see the water glitching in her eyes. My chest feels tight because I know that I’m the cause of her sadness. I’m the one who caused her to feel unsafe. I’m the one who put us both in this situation that we’re in.
I pat the bed and say, “Come here.”
She is still hugging herself, kicks off her shoes, and makes her way to the bed timidly.
She reaches the bed and halts. Her deep blue eyes run through my mind every single second of the day.
They linger on the bandage on my right shoulder.
My left-hand raises, gesturing for her to come closer.
She peers down and slides hers into mine.
I lace our fingers together and I pull her to the bed, making her gasp.
“Isabella,” I say her name tenderly and her eye lashes flutter and look at me.
“Tonight, did not go as I had planned.” I rub circles on her palm with my thumb.
“I wanted to take you on a date. I wanted to date my wife. I wanted to show you, regardless of how this marriage started, is till the end.” Her eyes glisten.
“I’m addicted to you more than I should be.
I obsessed to know everything about you.
What goes on in your beautiful mind. You are strong, beautiful, smart, and Isabella Ricci.
” She tries to blink back the tears that coat her eyes.
She licks her lips, and a few tears slip down her face.
“Enzo, I know what this world is and how it operates. It’s nothing new to me, but to see you,” she pauses and lets out a deep breath, “but to see you, slumped down, bleeding all that went through my mind was that you were being taken away from me before––”
I smirk, grazing my thumb gently over the palm of her hand and ask, “Before what?”
She leans in closer and looks down at our hands. “Before this marriage really starts.”
“And what else?” I pull myself up closer to her.
Her breath hitches, and her chest starts to rise and fall. I can see her pulse in her neck quickened which is her tell that she is affected by me. “Before you…”
I know she is nervous to say what she wants to say. That kiss tonight is more than I could ever want. It was everything. I felt that damn kiss in my fucking bones. Felt it deep inside my blackened heart.
“Before I had a chance to taste you. Before I had a chance to lick, bite, touch every single inch of your body. Before I stretch out your sweet, tight beautiful cunt?” She does not back away at my confession, but the blue of her eyes darkens around her iris and a soft moan escapes her mouth.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” I move my hand from hers, trail my fingers up her exposed thigh, stopping right at the hemline of her dress.
“No, you’re not wrong,” she whispers.
My hand slips farther up her dress, reaching her lace panties.
My fingers graze the outside of her pussy.
She is soaked, and the little hair she has on her cunt.
My cock is rock hard and begging to be released from the contents of my pants.
I don’t miss how her eyes look down at the tent in my pants, and I chuckle.
“Amuri mui, this is what you do to me. The thought of your beautiful smile, the sound of your laughter, feeling you attached to me in your sleep. Just. You.” I press my fingers against her pussy a little more and she lets out a throaty moan.
“I know you feel the same way based on how soaked your cunt is.” Her teeth graze her bottom lip and bites down.
My greedy fingers pull her panties to the side, her thighs part, giving me more access like the good little wife she is.
I slip two fingers past her lips, circle her clit then up and down.
She lets her head fall back and her hips buck against my fingers.
“That’s right, baby, you feel so good. I want to watch you come just like this on my fingers.
I want to feel you dripping wet, begging for more, and only my name falling from your lips. ”
I pick up the pace of the pressure on her clit as her moans grow louder and louder, echoing off our bedroom walls.
My dick is throbbing and demanding a release.
I can feel the precum leaking from my head, wetting the front of my pants.
I don’t fucking care because my fantasy of my wife coming on my fingers, in our bed is now a reality.
I lean in closer, my lips grazing her up her neck, then stopping at her ear, I whisper, “Be a good little wife and come for me.” Her hips rock with more force, her breathing increases and her cries grow louder.
“You’re close, baby. I can feel your clit pulsing.” I bite on her ear lobe, move my two fingers from her clit, thrust them into her tight cunt, in and out, then move my thumb over her clit.
She screams my name and comes hard, exploding on my hand as her sweet nectar drips on my hand, her thighs, and the bed.
“Good girl.” I slow my pace and gently pull my fingers from her pussy. I bring them to my mouth, suck them clean, and when her juices coat my taste buds, I let out a deep growl. “You taste like honey.”
Her cheeks redden as if she is embarrassed.
My fingers that smell like her cum, grip her chin so she’s looking at only me, and I say, “Don’t ever be embarrassed.
My job as your husband is to make you feel good.
To make you feel sexy. To make you feel pleasure and to enjoy sex.
” I lean in and kiss her softly against her soft lips and pull back before I deepen it.
Her eyes flutter. “Now, I want you to stand up and strip for me. I want to see every single inch of your body that was made for me and my eyes only.”
I’m doing everything I can to take out my knife and shred her dress off her in one swoop. I don’t want to scare her off just yet with how badly I want to drag my knife across her tanned skin, marking her and licking up her blood.
She goes to move off the bed, stands an inch from the bed. My heated gaze tracks her movements as she reaches behind her back to unzip the mesh part of her dress. She slips her arms out then shimmies out of it and lets it pool around her feet.
I lick my lips in appreciation and start to unfasten the belt to my pants.
Then, she does the same to the tiny black dress that was underneath.
My mouth waters at the sight in front of me.
It’s better than when I watched her on my cameras when she is changing.
She’s in black lace panties and a matching bra.
Her full breasts are barely contained in the contraption.
Begging to be released and for my tongue to lick them.
Her hands trail up her arms, sliding down the straps one at a time before reaching behind her back to unclasp the fabric.
I unzip my pants, pushing them down my hips and my cock springs free.
Her eyes widen at the sight of me and give her the biggest grin as I stroke myself.
My thumb catches the precum, and I coat my thick, long, and girth dick.
My hand moves up and down with my eyes glued to hers.
She bites her bottom lip, hooks her fingers in her panties, and I watch as they fall to the floor with the rest of her clothes.
Fuck me. She is a fucking goddess. The swell of her hips, that beg for my hands to grip as she is riding me.
The softness of her stomach, her lightly hair pussy in the middle of the apex of her thick thighs that I want to wear as earrings on my shoulders and my head buried between them.
Her full breasts that are the perfect size for my hands, mouth, and tongue.
Every single mark on her body I plan on kissing and memorizing.
“Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. Your body is a work of art, Amuri miu,” I say in Sicilian.
“And I’m one lucky son of a bitch who gets to worship every single inch of this masterpiece.
” My voice is low and raspy as I try to keep it together and not blow my load right now in my hand before I even get to sink into her. Taking her. “Come here, baby.”