Page 24 of The Don’s Omega

My first time with Elio isn’t going to be some frenzied fuck on a desk. The first time I take Elio, he’ll be my husband. He’ll be naked in my bed, begging for it. That’s the way our first time will be. I’ll breed him in my own bed with my ring on his finger.

With great effort, I force myself to say, “Let me show you the rest of the house.”

Surprise flutters through his green eyes. He thought I’d just take what I wanted right here right now. But surprised or not, all he says is, “Okay.”

I lead him to the kitchen. Ornella is there in a neatly pressed apron, her gray hair pulled back tight. She gives Elio a look just barely on the right side of polite. “Good afternoon, I’m the house manager, Ornella,” she says courteously.

“Nice to meet you.” Elio smiles but she doesn’t return it, instead returning to her work.

Elio seems confused by her brusqueness, but says nothing.

I know exactly why she dislikes him. Ornella is a bit of a snob. She adored Sandro, mostly because of his family name and bloodline. Elio is an untitled omega, and she doesn’t approve of me claiming him. But who I pick as my mate is not up to Ornella, and she knows enough to keep her mouth shut.

I take him through the west wing, past rooms he might not use but should know exist. A study. A music room with a piano no one has played since Adriano. A sun room where Mama drinks her coffee in the mornings. Then out to the back terrace where the formal gardens are visible in their full scope, rolling down the slope toward a line of cypress trees and, beyond them, the water.

Elio leans on the porch railing and looks at the view. The sun is dropping lower and the light is turning everything amber and the gardens look like something from another century, which in many ways they are.

I stand behind him and my gaze falls to the soft blond hairs at the nape of his neck. I want to kiss him again. I want to press him up against the railing and do more than just kiss him. His scent is fucking intoxicating. I hadn’t expected to be so aroused simply by his nearness. It’s unsettling and I need to distract myself from thoughts of sex.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “How did Fabio like his room at the hospital?”

Elio glances at me over his shoulder. “Um… he said the nurses are really kind. And he said his hospital room is nicer than his bedroom at home.” He winces. “I mean, what used to be our home.”

“I’m glad he’s happy with the accommodations. Dr. Ashworth is the best in the country. Your brother is in excellent hands.”

“I know. I looked him up.” He pauses. “Thank you for arranging for him to do the operation.”

I brush his thanks off. “It’s part of the contract.”

“I know what’s in the contract. Dr. Ashworth isn’t specifically named. I also know that Dr. Ashworth doesn’t work out of that hospital. He’s only doing my brother’s surgery because you arranged it. It’s okay to admit you did a nice thing. I’m grateful for that, Marcello. You didn’t have to do that. I’ll be forever beholden to you for taking such good care of Fabio.”

My face warms at his gratitude, which is very unlike me. I’m used to people lavishing me with praise. Why does Elio’s feel different? “Your brother needs the surgery. The surgery requires the best surgeon. The best surgeon is Dr. Ashworth.”

He holds my gaze and I have the distinct impression he’s able to read me. That makes me uncomfortable so I turn away from him.

“Let’s finish up the tour,” I say brusquely. “I have things to do.”

We go back inside. I lead him upstairs, to the east wing, my wing. The hallway is wide and quiet, the floors dark hardwood, the walls hung with scenic paintings and sconces that throw warm light. My bedroom is at the far end. The room next to it is his. A connecting door between them.

“This is your suite,” I say, opening the door. “It’s the second largest bedroom in the house after mine.”

“I get my own room?” There’s obvious relief in his voice.

“Yes. For now. I thought you might want your own space at first. Until you feel more at home here.”

“That’s unexpectedly considerate of you.”

“I have my moments.”

Elio takes in the king-sized bed with a carved mahogany headboard and crisp white linens. Heavy curtains frame the windows, pulled back to show the east gardens below. A sitting area occupies the far corner, two armchairs and a low table and a reading lamp, positioned near a tall bookshelf. There’s an en suite bathroom visible through a half-open door, white marble and brass fixtures. A walk-in closet that is currently empty.

“Jesus, this is bigger than my entire apartment back home.” Elio sets his duffel bag on the bed. “Fabio won’t believe this.”

“Speaking of Fabio, I have a driver assigned to you so you can go see Fabio whenever you want. Your driver is also a bodyguard. From this moment on, you can’t go anywhere without protection. I hope you understand that.”

He frowns. “That’ll take some getting used to.”

“Well, if you want to live, you’ll need to follow protocol. I can’t protect you if you don’t.” I sound disinterested, but in truth, I don’t want anything to happen to him. He’s my new toy and I don’t like it when other people break my toys.