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I crushed the sunglasses in my hand before taking the three extra-large steps needed to be standing right in Gio’s face. He immediately held his hands in the air in surrender, his eyes filling with terror, and before he could blink, I gripped his middle finger and bent it until I heard it crack.
The sound of his bones breaking should be remedy enough to soothe me, but somehow, the revulsion in my chest was still there. I took my time waiting, even daring him to make a single sound, but Gio held his ground and swallowed the pain.
“You’re lucky you’ve been loyal for ten fucking years, or your brain would be spread all over the runway by now,” I growled, my voice steady and menacing. “But the next time I catch you ogling my wife, you’re losing your eyes first, and then we’ll make a brand new fucking Pollock of brain and blood to hang on my office wall. Got it?”
Gio quickly shook his head, “Got it, Boss.”
“He stays,” I said to Max, “Arrange for someone else to meet us tomorrow.”
I knew it wasn’t his fault, but there was no fucking way I would have him around during my honeymoon now.
This morning was shaping up to be a fucking disaster and we still hadn’t even left.
Francesca was already seated when I got to my place, pretending I wasn’t even there with her headset on full blast.
There was absolutely no way I was just letting this go. I took my leather jacket off, throwing it on the other seats before I turned towards her. I pulled the headphones off her and lowered myself slowly until my face was leveled with hers, looking straight into her dark eyes. “I hope you’re happy. You just cost Gio his eyes.” I was bluffing, but she didn’t have to know. Maybe she would learn not to toy with me.
“What? You can’t be serious?” Her outrage followed me through the cabin, all the way to the end of the jet, her feet angrily marching behind me.
“Don’t test me, Francesca!” I warned her as I stopped walking and turned towards her, hoping my expression mirrored the dire need I had to punish her. Again, she didn’t even flinch. She stood there facing me with her head held high.
“He didn’t do anything!” She yelled. Her tone crept under my flesh, an angry, sarcastic grin spreading across my face.
“No, but you did.” I took a step closer to her, “I won’t be having my wife with her hands all over other men. Understood?” I grunted, keeping my gaze deeply buried in hers, towering over her with a commanding demeanor. I thought I saw something change in her eyes, from anger to something else.
“Oh, right! You’re the man. You can go around doing whomever you want, but I can’t. Even on our wedding night. Is that how this is supposed to be?” Francesca angrily asked, her eyes shining with an emotion I had never seen in them before.
“What?” What the hell was she talking about? Did she think I spent the night with another woman?
“I bet she fucked your brains out. You should probably rest now. Those circles under your eyes aren’t a good look. You seem tired,” she spat, every word drenched in anger and resentment as she turned around, stomping her way back to her seat.
I grabbed her arm, pulling her back to me and against the bathroom door.
“Is that jealousy, Wife? Twice in a row?” I whispered in her ear with a smirk on my face, caging her against the wall.
“Why the hell would I be jealous? I’d have to like you to be jealous.” Her voice was steady, unlike last night. All it took was a single finger gliding down her spine, and she was already fighting her panting breaths. Not today. Whatever was bothering her was working like a damn wall, and not even my closeness was affecting her.
“Liar,” I provoked. “You liked me just fine when I had my fingers buried in this tight cunt last night,” I whispered again, my free hand unbuttoning her jeans, letting my finger swipe the skin just under the band of her lacy underwear.
Through the corner of my eye, I could see her swallowing dryly and her chest heaving with her growing desire. My cock was growing in my pants, too, as we played this little game of ours. Why was it so hard for her to give in to what she truly felt?
Her body couldn’t lie to save her fucking life. Her knees were already weak, and her skin covered in goosebumps beneath my fingers as they slowly covered more of her mound.
“That was a mistake I will not be making again,” she said, yanking my hand away from her. “Go look for the whore you had last night. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to help you with that,” she finished, pointing at my noticeable erection.
She pushed my arm out of the way and walked straight to her seat while I stood there for a few moments, trying to calm both my anger and desire.
She does think I was with someone else last night.
That was why she was so angry. A good fucking sign in my book. She does care, after all. I was unsure if I should set the record straight or leave her to mull over it.
It took longer than normal to regain control of my temper and resume my normal calmness. I’d been able to hold back until now, but it was getting increasingly hard to take my hands off her. I wanted nothing more than to set her free from her constrictions, from her own dumb battle. I wanted to show her how much she wanted me and how much I could make her want me even more.
Show her exactly what it felt like to be my wife with every single thing that came along with that title.
My. Wife.
Chapter 6
