41. Nico
Nico
“Did you mean it?”
One word, and I could crush every step of progress tonight, snuff out her blossoming hope in a single breath.
Maybe I should. I am Capo. I rule a dozen cities, hundreds of men and thousands of miles of territory. I’ve tortured and killed in the name of the Trio and for my own personal satisfaction. Exposing weakness, my guarded heart or the painful past isn’t something I do.
But my wife deserves better than a cowardly retreat tonight.
“I don’t think I meant it. Let’s go to our bedroom.”
After unlocking the office door, I check the foyer for any guards on patrol.
She laughs quietly as we race across the parquet floor and up the stairs, lest any of my men see her wearing so little.
Despite my grumbling over sneaking through my own house like a kid, I feel younger than I have in years with every step.
She really is my light and my hope. I’m so damn glad she’s mine.
When we enter the bedroom, I glance at the painting.
Sorrow’s Cascade. I don’t know what prompted me to hang it after Nonna gave it to me.
I never considered myself possessing any great talent in that direction.
But Matilde doesn’t think it’s worthless.
She sees beauty in something that others might label ordinary or even ugly.
When the weather is better, I’ll take her to see the real thing. Perhaps she’ll grow to love the place as much as I do.
She slips off my coat, letting it puddle at her feet. Gloriously beautiful and naked, my eyes sweep over her in appreciation as she walks backwards toward the bed. “See something you like, sir?” she asks, cheekily.
“What did I tell you about calling me that? You already interrupted my meeting earlier.”
Her eyes flash with playful defiance. I fucking adore that side of her.
Fuck.
I don’t just adore it.
I adore her.
I’d die for this woman.
Maybe I will someday… but not tonight.
Out of habit, I reach for the light switch until Matilde arches an eyebrow. I chuckle to myself, muttering, “Old dog.”
“What about dogs?”
“An expression. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Oh, I know this one!” she gushes. "You are the old dog in this story but not too old for me." I want to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go.
Stripping out of my clothes, I smirk at the obvious way Matilde admires me. I may have issues when it comes to my scarred face, but I’m confident about my body, and I love that she can’t seem to get enough of it.
Closing the distance between us, I don’t stop until our chests are nearly touching.
Her tawny nipples are stiff as her perfect tits rise and fall with her quick breaths.
My breathing is controlled as always, in and out, calm and steady, but my heart pounds like a drum, and my hands itch to touch her.
“You’re so unbelievably beautiful.” I cup her face, wondering what the hell I ever did to deserve this woman.
“And you are beautiful to me.” My jaw clenches at her words, and a pit of doubt opens in my belly, so she mimics my move, holding my face between her softer, smaller hands.
“You will listen to your wife and believe her when she says this, Nico. I will say it three thousand times if I must, but you will believe before I am done with you,” she adds, fiercely.
“I know you’re stubborn enough to do just that.”
Her lips twitch. “Lights on. No blindfold. Hold me close. Face me. Take me like…”
“I’ll make love to you, tesoro,” I promise. The term is fitting because that’s exactly what this will be.
Pulling back the duvet, I lay her down on the mattress before climbing on top of her. Slowly, I lean in for a kiss, savoring the taste of her mouth, enraptured by the feeling this simple act summons.
I feel her hand patting my arm and draw back from the kiss. “Kiss me again but keep your eyes open this time.”
It’s a little too close to focus easily, but I obey her command, drowning in the dark honey of her irises and losing myself in their chestnut starbursts before the kiss deepens and her eyelids finally flutter closed. Only then, do mine do, too.
We kiss for several minutes, languidly discovering each other with our hands and mouths, caressing, squeezing and nibbling until our bodies grow impatient for more.
Just like on our wedding night, I prompt her to spread her legs, slipping my arms under her shoulders and cradling her against my chest when at last I push my way inside her tight pussy.
It feels incredible like always.
It’s also different.
With our faces about a foot apart, our eyes are locked when I begin to thrust. Watching the effect play out in her beautiful eyes and the way her teeth dig into her plump bottom lip when I withdraw just a little before sinking back into her heat, it’s like a breathtaking movie that only I will ever see.
Happiness glows through her gaze like a beacon, drawing me in, altering my brain chemistry until I know I’m going to crave this experience like a drug.
The thought that tragedy could strike again or another failure on my part might steal her away tries to burst in on the moment. My panic and my wrath stir, but they’re not for her to see.
When I note how avidly she’s staring at me, that pit of doubt tries to open again.
“Nico? What are you thinking?” she asks, pressing her hand to my heart and dispelling every fearful, unwanted, self-loathing thought I was having.
“That I am very lucky I forced you to marry me.” I dip forward to kiss the tip of her nose, making her giggle.
“I am happy you did, too.”
After that, words fall away. I take one of her hands in mine, our fingers intertwined like our bodies and souls.
Even as my thrusts speed up, neither of us looks away for more than a handful of seconds.
Seeing Matilde’s lovely face, tracing her lips, studying her eyes, memorizing every detail while we make love, all of it is mine to discover and treasure. I don’t want it to end.
“Hold on.” She squeals when I roll her over so she can be on top. Uncertainty flashes in her eyes. “This is new to me, too. I've never experienced this position, but I like the idea of you riding my cock while I gaze at your face. Will you do that, wife? Ride me?”
The last of her doubt melts away with my admission and request. She sinks down, a sexy moan spilling from her mouth.
Maybe this is even better than the other position.
I can’t say for sure, but I can’t get enough of watching her body move while she finds her rhythm and grows more confident either.
My possessive soul loves that I’m claiming all her firsts, but she’s leading me into new territory, too.
After her climax, followed by my own, when we’re sated and exhausted, she snuggles up beside me in the bed, laying her head against my chest. “I loved that.”
“I did, too,” I admit.
And cuddling with her now? Maybe that’s the best part. I don’t have to decide on the answer now. As we agreed on our wedding night, we have time.
She takes her time touching and exploring my body as though she’ll never get enough. She lightly traces the tattoo under my ribs the same way she touched my scar. “What does it mean?” she asks, staring at the cursive script.
The words are written in Italian, and I know she’s asking about its significance. I will walk to hell for you.
“I got it for Dante. Before his initiation. It’s not a happy story, but one I could tell you another time.”
She nods in acceptance before settling down to sleep.
I stay awake as long as I possibly can, holding her close… and not wanting to acknowledge that looming, ever-present fear of losing her or failing her like I did my first wife. Losing Matilde when I love her so much? I'll do anything to avoid that.
***
“I will say it three thousand times if I must, but you will believe before I am done with you.”
It doesn’t take Matilde telling me three thousand times to believe.
The next morning, I’m brushing my teeth when she’s drying her hair. Leaning over, she kisses my scarred cheek as I’m finishing with the toothbrush. Suddenly, her brow furrows, and she points at the place she just kissed.
For three painful seconds, I freeze, convinced she’s finally realized how ugly I am.
Then, her smile reappears, like sunshine breaking through the clouds after rain, as she wipes away some drying toothpaste that had found its way to my cheek.
“Che cosa?” she asks, concerned by my mystified expression.
“Let’s go wake up the kids.”
I couldn’t say it was nothing. That would’ve been a lie. I couldn’t say how much it meant either. Not yet. But it was exactly what I needed. Just like her.