Her eyes brightened, and then she did something I wasn’t expecting her to be brave enough to do yet.
She wrapped her hand around my throat and shoved me back against my chair. I groaned as she slipped off the table and straddled my lap, pressing her fingers against my pulse point. My cock ground against the heat of her pussy, and I shifted my hips, rolling them into her to make those crystal eyes widen with desire. Her lips parted, and she tightened her grip on my neck.
“Who do you want me to be, Santino?” she whispered, her voice dripping with seduction. “Do you want me to be your obedient, submissive little wife who does everything you tell me to? Or do you want me to be yourBella Ribelle?”
A slow, mischievous smile spread across my face as I gripped her hips and pulled her closer, making her gasp as I dragged her pussy along my length. “I just want you. You can be my perfect, submissive wife whenever you want. But keep being myBella Ribelle.Fight me if you must. I enjoy having to remind you who you belong to."
She dragged her nails down my throat, scraping my skin and leaving marks. They clawed down my shirted chest to my belt. I stared at her, my head relaxed back against the chair, and let her touch me. Fuck, I had been dying for her touch since I first laid eyes on her. She shifted back so her nails could drag along the outline of my cock, and I hissed, needing so much more.
“As my husband, you should probably know something,” she whispered, leaning in as if she were about to kiss me. “I have a terrible gag reflex, and I hate sucking dick. It makes me physically sick to my stomach.”
I blinked at her, my brain stuttering to a halt because her words didn’t match her actions. Her fingers teased my cock while she told me she’d never suck my dick. Was this some new torture technique?
“If your dick came anywhere near my mouth, I'd probably throw up on it orbite it off. Neither would be pretty.”
I’m sorry… what the fuck was happening?
“I guess we both won’t be fulfilling each other’s needs.” She smiled, tapped me on the cheek, and then climbed off my lap. “Have fun at your meeting,Amore. I'll be here waiting for you like your obedient little wife.”
I highly doubted that.
The meeting ran longer than I’d planned, which was fitting, seeing as nothing seemed to go my way today. By the time I parked my bike in the garage, it was already dark, and I was frustrated. I’d spent the first day of our marriage working, but there was no way out of it. Rome was my territory, and if I didn’t keep it secure, it would be taken from under my feet. If one thing was a given, no one took anything from me.
I yanked off my helmet and gloves, groaning at another incoming text on the burner phone meant for Aria to contact me only in emergencies. The other source of my frustration. After the first, second, and third texts asking me how to turn the heating on, where I kept the batteries, and whether I preferred sourdough bread to normal, I realised she had no idea what an emergency meant. And it was embarrassing having to interrupt the meeting over and over to check my phone, just in case that one time there really was something wrong, but no. It was more of this shit.
Why do you have so many guns in your apartment? I keep finding them everywhere.
Do not touch my guns, Aria.
Remember, this phone is meant for emergencies.
I can’t find a pair of decent scissors. I’ve checked three drawers.
Check the other ten.
Not urgent. But just wanted to let you know I found the scissors.
I repeat. This phone is for emergencies.
When are you coming back?
Soon.
Vague. What are you doing?
Still in a meeting. I'll be back in an hour.
Is your meeting in a strip club?
No.
Convincing.
I reorganised your office. Hope you don’t mind. Also, matches?
What about matches?
For scented candles, duh.
