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Isotta prepared herself to do just that. She anticipated the pain, even when she wasn’t cycling. She anticipated it again. Isotta didn’t hold her breath or anything like that, but she did brace herself. Massimo must have felt tension rising in his wife. He cut his eyes in her direction, seeking to gain hers. When he did, Massimo leveled Isotta with a steady gaze. It wasn’t contentious or pushy. It was almost supportive. Isotta wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she accepted it. Isotta moved through the examination, and surprisingly, there was no real pain. Just then, the assistant came into the room and gained the doctor’s ear.
“Thank you,” Dr. Farina replied. She turned her attention to Isotta. “You can go into the restroom and redress.”
Once again, Massimo disengaged from interacting with the doctor and focused on what he hoped would happen. When he heard the door open to the restroom, Massimo turned around. He saw Isotta not looking up, and he wondered what that was about. At the end of the day, Massimo wanted to know that he had done what he set out to do: impregnate his wife.
Dr. Farina waited until Isotta was seated before she spoke.
“My assistant gave me the results of your urinalysis.”
The doctor paused for a moment before continuing.
“The test result was negative. Unfortunately, you are not currently pregnant,” Dr. Farina advised. “However, the abdominal testing we did should give us hope that soon you will be if all continues to go well.”
As they left the doctor’s office, Massimo couldn’t hide his disappointment. Isotta could barely hide her mixed feelings. There were parts of her that were relieved that she was not pregnant. Isotta wasn’t sure she was ready to have her body invaded by another person, depending on her for everything when Isotta didn’t feel like she could always depend on herself. There was another part of her that felt Massimo’s upset, his disappointment.
After they had been home for a few days, Isotta still felt like she was in the ‘I gotta be okay’ mood that she found herself in after leaving the doctor’s office with Massimo. Even though he didn’t say it, Isotta could tell he was disappointed that she wasn’t pregnant. He didn’t try to have sex with her like he had before. It was like what excited him about her had fizzled out, and he was back to not caring about her at all. Isotta started to entertain the idea once again that she and her sister could be independent women and run off together. Where they would get money from would not be the family. They would collectively be disowned, with no ration from Costanza, because they had gone against her prideful moment. But they would survive. They could survive if they gained employment, which was common for some women but not for them.
Massimo found himself in his own mental quandary. He was disappointed that Isotta was not with his child. It would have been and was easy for Massimo to be angry with her for failing to accept his seed. Massimo felt rejected as a man, and it pissed him off. It would have been easy for Massimo to take his anger out on whoever was in striking distance, including Isotta, striking her in a different way, physically and sexually. Massimo conducted business with his father and Giuseppe while contemplating what he could do to negate the frustration he felt. Nothing seemed to work, not keeping his mind occupied, not trying to focus on something else, nothing.
And then he thought about his wife.
Isotta.
Feelings of prickly anger tried to remain, and then feelings of disenchantment tried to mill around. Massimo sighed a heavy sigh of relief, differently than he’d sighed before. He remembered the first time he laid eyes on her and the feeling of awe that ensued because he had never seen anyone quite so beautiful before. He was taken aback, dumbfounded even. Isotta was strikingly beautiful. That was fine. Massimo had seen beautiful women before, even though she was at the top of the heap. Later on, after they were married, he had an opportunity to talk to her, to try and get to know the real her. Massimo felt like Isotta gave him a peek at who she really was. A part of Massimo liked her. He had to fight against what he had been taught and what he believed, but Massimo allowed himself to like her. He started to allow Isotta to get to know the real him, too. Massimo fought against the urge to hold on to his domineering, violent self and try to reconnect with Isotta again, allowing her to connect with the best part of him. But the struggle between wanting to be in control and wanting to let her see him was real. Massimo wasn’t sure he could let all of the domination go and let Isotta love him. He wasn’t convinced that Isotta could love him, really love him, allowing Massimo to put his guard down and truly love her in return. Would Massimo somehow feel emasculated by it? Would he feel like less than a real man?
Massimo wasn’t sure, but he intended to find out.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Massimo didn’t make physical contact with Isotta for several days in a row. He decided that refocusing on her as a person may do him and her some good. Massimo decided to try talking to her and getting to know her a little better. He was tentative in his approach because his prior approach had been the exact opposite. Isotta didn’t know how to respond to him either because she had grown accustomed to business between them being status quo. A part of her read his lack of touching her as a disappointment, but then she had a different inclination. Massimo tried to talk to her. He asked how she was doing, what she thought, and some of the things she had considered. Isotta felt confused by his questions at first. Was he really looking for her opinion, things that mattered to her?
They discussed things that mattered to them both. Isotta felt like Massim really listened when she answered and didn’t just bide his time until he could get what he demanded. It was new for her. How Massimo treated her was different. She started to allow the feelings that she once had for Massimo to creep to the surface. Isotta was afraid of those feelings, but she started to feel them and think more pleasurably about the man that she was married to. Isotta started to be more than infatuated with Massimo. She truly started to love him. She was more than just smitten, more than infatuated. Isotta found herself relaxing and looking forward to the conversations they had. She even discovered that they could laugh together at the most random things.
They got closer, closer than they had ever been, and it felt genuine. They sat together one night, doing nothing more than lounging and watching television. Isotta was completely relaxed, and Massimo was in a good mood as they sat close together. Isotta started to feel a fluttering in her depths she had not felt before. In his periphery, Massimo gained a whole new appreciation for Isotta. He smiled and felt a warming in his core. When he turned and faced Isotta, still wearing remnants of the smile, Isotta smiled, too.
“Why are you smiling so?” Isotta asked lightheartedly.
“Because,” Massimo began, the smile slowly fading from his lips, yet the enchantment lingered in his eyes. “You make me feel that way.”
Massim leaned in. Isotta leaned in. Their lips met quickly. She felt a warming fire move through her that she didn’t have a chance to quench. She felt the fullness of his lips as he captured hers, refusing to let them go. The tickle of his burgeoning mustache was enough to make her smile, even with her mouth completely consumed. His tongue probed her mouth. They engaged in relinquishing each other from their clothes. He wanted to taste the very essence of who she was. She felt a warmness move through her. A touch like this was new and different. He was ravenous, and she was the desired one to quench his salacious appetite. But he abandoned her mouth, and her eyes opened, thinking his infatuation with her was over. But he hadn’t abandoned his quest. His mouth left hers, yet only briefly. Pulling her into him, he trailed heated kisses from her lips to her chin and then down the center of her elegant neck. He bit down enough to give her a tinge of pain that sent pulsating currents to her womb and then covered his teeth with his lips, sucking the pain away. She moaned under his magical touch, but he didn’t stop at her neck.
His heat-tinged kisses found the swell of her breasts, caressing them and then sucking each one, giving the full swell of her bosom the attention she craved. She purred for him, deep and throaty. The sound of her voice sent trills down his spine, and all he wanted to do was devour her. She needed to be claimed, and he intended to claim every part of her so she would know she belonged only to him. The hot kisses moved down her center. She found it hard to keep still, but he held her hostage to his desires. Her hands fell to his thick corded neck as his mouth found her navel. The purr from her lips became a groan as the first sweet nectar from her puss eased from inside her. She wanted him inside her desperately, and she moaned and called his name, begging him to take her. The yearning for his touch was excruciating as she writhed underneath him. He hushed her angst with a hush from his lips.
She felt the firm of his hands gripping her waist as his mouth found the entrance to her jewel. There was no hesitation as she parted her legs for him, inviting him in, craving his touch. He inhaled deeply, inhaling the aroma of her feminine proclivity and her desire. He moaned against her flesh, and the vibration from his bass voice reverberated against the folds of her puss. Her back arched high, and her hands fell to his head, cupping it and pulling him into her. She needed to feel him inside her. His hands moved from the curve of her hip to the softness of her inner thighs. With his fingers, he caressed her pussy lips, compelling them to soften and open for him. His fingers found the warmness that lay inside her, and he pulsed one then two fingers inside her beautiful folds until he reached her g-spot and titillated her there. The gasp that poured from her made his dick hard. It made him impatient.
His tongue moved behind his fingers, and he finally had the chance to taste the nature of her. She was sweet to him, a caramel sweet, and the nectar that came from her coated his tongue, and he drank her in. She tasted as she looked, and his tongue found every crevice inside her wanton wound and thickly licked her there. He couldn’t wait anymore. He refused to. She begged him not to. Lifting himself from her, she felt the heat of his body dissipate, and she missed him. The strength of his hands lifted her to him as the tip of this thickness traced the entrance to her puss. She held her breath as he filled her up, inch by rugged inch. His flesh entered her flesh, pushing into her, breaking through the absence of a man being inside her. There was a delicious pain in his reawakening of her after lying dormant for so long. And when she exhaled, she felt full. Her hips started to gyrate outside of her control. It was a base, animalistic instinct that she fell into.
Her body vibrated around his dick, and her nipples hardened with the pulsing of her puss. He pushed his throbbing manhood deep inside her, riding the wave her body created as she took him in. The muscles in his thighs flexed, and his thrust was deep and concentrated and permeating everything she’d been waiting for. He found himself overwhelmed by her hold on him and the feeling of her surrounding him. It was more than he had ever dreamed, more than he could have imagined. He recognized that it was more than a physical connection as her body responded to him in ways that no woman had ever done before. He reached down and lifted her to him. He wanted to see how pleasure looked on her face and how him pleasing her tasted on her lips. Their eyes connected, and he pushed inside her, reaching the depths of her soul with every thrust. His eyes locked onto hers. He saw himself in her reflection. She moaned for him as he kissed her soft lips when she pulled against his lips and sucked on them as his dick thumped inside her.
The plethora of ecstatic wavelengths that came from her set his soul on fire as their fuck became reckless abandon. He pounded her flesh, and she cooed with delight. Their bodies became wet with sweat that their soul connection generated. He groaned for her, and his manhood beat hard within her. Everything around them faded to black as their bodies, minds, hearts, and souls connected. She teetered on the brink of losing her mind. He couldn’t get enough, probing every crevice within her. And then the animal inside him roared as hot gism poured from his hardened stem, coating the inside of her walls and meeting the heated ambrosia that poured from her. Still, he couldn’t get enough. He longed to stay inside her until there was nothing left to give. And he did. She held him close, coiling her delicate arms around his neck. She felt the pants of his warm breath against her neck as his manhood pushed until it softened. But she held him there, flexing the inner walls and holding him firm until the thrum in her puss quieted.
They lay together for a while, not speaking but touching and caressing. Surprisingly, Isotta felt settled after making love to her husband because it felt like they really connected like they made love to each other. Lying in Massimo’s arms, Isotta started to appreciate him again, the rise and fall of his chiseled chest, the wisp of the burgeoning whiskers newly growing on his handsome face, the feel of his hand wrapped around her, holding her close. Isotta exhaled deeply, blowing out all the air in her lungs. When she breathed in again, everything felt new. Isotta felt alive in a way she hadn’t felt before since being married to Massimo.
As she lay there, doubt started to creep into her mind, doubt that had been planted and that her sister coerced. Everything the women in her life had taught her, they taught Valentina. How did that work out for her? It didn’t, and it still hadn’t because Valentina was still angry and bitter about how she’d been treated. Isotta let out a deep sigh. She had done everything she’d been raised to do, upheld the family’s honor, and what had it gotten her? A man who despised her and treated her as a second-class citizen and the wary promise of never being able to be with a child – the one thing he wanted.
Despite how she felt, Isotta wanted to give Massimo what he wanted. There was a part of her that did not. She didn’t want to be on the fence about how she felt. That was torturous unto itself, the vacillating between the two, the seesawing, going back and forth. Isotta didn’t want to be afraid to commit to either side, but she felt torn asunder between the two. It felt good lying in Massimo’s warm, loving arms, but could she trust them?
Isotta wasn’t sure.
