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“Bellissima!” Rosa’s words hit me from behind. Rosa didn’t have any such problem. It helped that she wasn’t thinking of fucking her. I flicked a glance to Rosa to touch base, to recover, to clear the hot haze sizzling around my wife. Rosa’s eyes glistened with a grandmother’s pride as if my wife was her own creation. But no one could be prouder than I was of her. I willed my eyes to stay on Rosa so my impure thoughts could be cleared. But my eyes had a mind of their own. They rushed back to find my wife silent in front of me.
Beautiful indeed. I wanted to say so much more, but I was a man of few words on any day, and today, I was left with none, so I clung to Rosa’s.
“Bellissima, tesoro mio,” I croaked.
Coward.
Everything in me wanted to touch her. There was a need in my body that only she could answer. If I touched her now… I didn’t know how I would ever stop. I chose not to find out. I put that iron will out that I was notorious for, took a step back, and let her pass, catching the whiff that teased my nostrils of a fragrance of lotus, lilies, and amber.
I followed her, not too close for temptation, but close enough to see my fucking staff fall all over her. She left behind her a trail of ogling eyes and willing dicks.
Fucking mine!
Rosa lifted the tail end of her saree to help her get in the car. I ignored Rosa’s accusing glare. I knew what I should have done. I should have helped her get in. I should have held her hand. Hell. I should have put my hand around her naked waist and pulled her in for a kiss. I would do all that. Soon. Just not now when we had a fucking reception to get to.
I watched her fidgeting hands as the car started up. Hands that should be on me. Instead, the weight of my mother’s hideous ring weighed down on the simple elegance of her style. The ache to take hold of that hand and yank her towards me was strong. I could bury my head in that cleavage of hers and never come out. She eluded innocence with her fucking doe-eyed looks. Really, she was a siren screaming for my dick.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Words spilling out of those fucking lips. Lips made to wrap around my cock. I shifted in my seat, the heat in my groin painful in my pants. I wanted a relief. “Like what?”
“Like I am your next meal.”
“Aren’t you?”
A shocked gasp spilt out of her full lips, yet she didn’t shy away.
The air was sultry as I held her gaze. “Will you give me my wedding night tonight?”
She didn’t answer, gulping slowly.
What would she do if I fucked her right now in the moving car?
“How many yards is this?” I gestured to her saree.
“Nine.”
Leaning over, I took her hand lightly. Pinning her with my eyes, I dropped it on my dick.
“Nine yards of fucking pleasure to unwrap, mia cara.” My heart flared with hope. She hadn’t said no.
“You should have told her.”
“Remind me again why I invited you?”
I couldn’t not invite the don to my wedding. I knew that. But if he wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have his sharp eyes nailed on me, giving me fucking advice on my marriage.
Carlo ignored me. Very few men dared to talk back to the big boss. His son and I might be the only exception. This was why Carlo liked me. Though he might regret that one day. “You should have told her.”
“She wouldn’t know how our world works.”
“Of course not,” Carlo scoffed. “Not even our women know that. That’s because we keep them out of it.”
“So then, why are you suggesting I bring her to ours?”
“I am not. She doesn’t need to know the details. But she should know who we are.”
And scare her away?
