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She was perfectly still, watching me with parted lips and that damn innocence that was going to kill me. “Can I take them off?”
It was a rhetorical question—we both knew what was expected.
“What if I say no? Would it matter?” she asked with a hint of insolence.
“Would it make you feel better if I continued despite your saying no? It certainly won’t help me.”
“I doubt you’d care. It certainly won’t hurt you as much as me.”
Anger surged through me. I moved over her, bracing myself beside her shoulders. Her hands came up as if to ward me off, soft palms pressing against my chest. Her eyes widened, and she darted them to my pecs, her fingers shaking against me.
“Listen up. You’re right, you’ll be the one who’ll experience discomfort, but I can guarantee you that being bratty about it doesn’t help. If you work with me, it’ll be better.”
“It’s not just the pain. Until this moment, men were allowed to kiss my hand or dance with me at social gatherings, nothing more. And now you’re here, over me, half naked, and I’m half naked, and soon we’ll both be naked, and you’re going to…” She sucked in a deep breath.
“I know,” I said quietly. “Don’t start to cry.”
She drew her lower lip between her teeth. After a moment, she said firmly. “I won’t cry.” Then she peered up at me. “Why do you care? You’ve seen worse than someone crying.”
I had. Far worse, and I hadn’t given a shit. But Giulia was young, too young, and my wife, the woman who was supposed to become a mother to my children. Fuck. This was such a mess.
She was biting her lip, not looking at me, but at something only she could see.
“Giulia,” I murmured, and her gaze settled on me. “Help me with this.”
She looked at me with those big eyes and nodded slowly.
Relief filled me. Bringing my head down, I kissed her lips lightly. Then again. At the third kiss, Giulia’s lips moved hesitantly against mine, and I sucked her lovely plump lower lip into my mouth. She made the smallest sound and closed her eyes. My tongue stroked her open and dipped in, tasting my wife for the first time. Hell, so unbelievably sweet it was going to kill me. Not stopping the kiss, I rested my palm on her ribcage.
Her eyes shot open, and she flinched slightly. I drew back from her mouth, watching her as I stroked my palm down her side then back up—a soft touch, the promise that I’d treat her with care. “Will you let me undress you?”
Again, the silent nod. I sat back on my haunches and helped Giulia into a sitting position. Then I hooked my fingers under the hem of her nightgown and dragged it upward. She lifted her arms so I could pull it over her head. I discarded the flimsy thing on the floor and turned my attention back to Giulia. Her arms were loosely crossed over her chest. Biting her lip in that cute way, she lowered them slowly, giving me a perfect view of her breasts.
God, she was lovely.
I reached for her and gently ran my knuckles down the valley between those pretty breasts. Giulia twitched, nose crinkling, holding back one of those giggles. Her cheeks turned red. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” I said in a slightly lower voice. I’d rather she giggled than cried, and right now she thankfully didn’t appear as if she was close to tears.
“You’re very beautiful,” I told her. Because it was the truth and because I didn’t want her to be self-conscious. It would only make her tense more.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmured as I traced the outside of her breast with my knuckles. Her nipples hardened, and the blush on her cheeks spread all over her face. I was glad that I hadn’t listened to my conscience and asked Luca to cancel the wedding because she was too young for me. Right this moment I knew she’d be mine forever.
I swiped my thumb over her nipple, and Giulia sucked in a small breath. I repeated the motion, stifling a groan at the feel of her perfect nub.
“Do you like this?”
“Yes. It feels good.”
I ran my hand down to her panties. “Lie back.” She did and her body became visibly tenser. The muscles in her belly flexed, and she held her breath. “This is no reason to become tense. I’ll only pull down your panties.”
Slowly, I dragged them down and relief, followed by desire, flooded me. Most women were waxed completely for the wedding night, and while I enjoyed that, with Giulia it would have only put emphasis on her age. Luckily, she had a small triangle of dark brown hair on her mound.
“I know it’s not what’s tradition, but I didn’t want to—”
