Closing the distance between us, I ignore the fact that we’re in the middle of the post office and cup her face, tipping her head back so I can see her fully. “You’re mine, amore mio, and I love you. Everything I have is yours, and all of you is mine in return. I’m going to take care of you, and giving you a fucking bank card so you have access to our money is just the bare minimum,” I tell her, leaning down and pressing my lips to hers.
“Warrick,” she breathes when I pull away.
“This isn’t a negotiation, amore mio. So put the card in your purse and?—”
“I don’t have a purse,” she says, heat staining her cheeks.
“Then let’s go and get you one.”
Her steps slow the closer we get to the clothing store. I don’t know if she’s been in before to ask for a job, but when I slow to a stop outside the door, she looks up at me imploringly.
“Warrick…” she starts.
“Amore mio, we’re going to go in here and you’re going to let me spoil you and get you some new clothes and a purse to put that new card in. Then we’re going to head to Tori’s bakery so that you can meet her and my brother Nero. We’re going to buy too many sweets, and then we’re going to take them home andwe’re going to eat them naked in bed while my cum drips out of your perfect cunt. Okay?”
Her mouth falls open as she stares up at me, her chest heaving.
“I gave you what you needed, didn’t I, amore mio? I took all those firsts you needed me to take. Now I need you to do this for me before I give you what you need again. Okay?” I’m manipulating her, but I don’t feel bad about it. She needs new clothes, and if I have to coerce her into letting me take care of her, then so be it.
“Warrick,” she gasps, and I have to hold back laughter at her scandalized expression.
“Oh, amore mio, don’t get shy now.” Leaning in, so I’m only an inch from her ear, I whisper, “You weren’t shy when your cunt was gushing while I fucked your tight little ass.”
Taking advantage of her shock, I lead her off the street and into the store, smiling widely when Cora’s mom greets us.
“Warrick, how lovely to see you again,” Mrs. Cunningham says.
“This is my Verity. She needs everything,” I say, smiling happily.
“No,” Verity tries to protest, but it’s too late, because Mrs. Cunningham is already running her eyes assessingly over Verity. Despite being in her sixties, Cora’s mom is stunning and looks more like she should be strolling through the streets of Paris instead of running a clothing store in small-town Montana.
“Oh my goodness, you’re gorgeous. Let’s go and pick some things to try,” she gushes, hooking her arm through Verity’s and leading her away.
For the next hour, Mrs. Cunningham ushers Verity into more outfits than any woman could want, and she looks fucking edible in every single one of them. From tight jeans that make her ass look delicious to dresses that make me want to shove the skirt upand fuck her while she’s wearing them, every time she steps out of the changing room in something new, my dick gets harder and harder.
By the time they’re done, there’s a pile of things on the counter, and I want her to have them all. I know she’s going to try to argue, but she won’t win, and we’ll do this all over again in a couple of months once she’s regained all of her curves from eating properly.
“She needs a purse too,” I say loudly enough for both women to hear.
“I don’t,” I hear Verity say.
“Yes, she does,” I call again.
Red-faced, her hair messy, Verity follows Mrs. Cunningham over to where I’m waiting at the counter. “Get your card out, amore mio,” I tease, smiling at her.
“This is too much. I…” She trails off, her eyes going wide at the large pile of clothes.
Pulling her to me, I press a kiss to her forehead then hand over my card and buy everything, ignoring her whispered protests and Mrs. Cunningham’s knowing grin. It doesn’t take her long to fold everything into bags, and she hands me the receipt while Verity stands uncomfortably beside me.
“Come on, amore mio,” I say, lifting the bags in one hand while I lace our fingers together with the other. “Thank you for your help, Mrs. Cunningham.”
“It was lovely to meet you, Verity.”
“You too,” Verity says sweetly. “I don’t need you to buy me clothes,” she says, her eyes glassy, the moment we step out onto the sidewalk.
“Amore mio,” I say on a sigh. “I don’t know how the men in your life have treated you before.”
“What men?” she asks innocently, and I can’t help it. I grin.
