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“Next, you can use crushed tomatoes. Normally, we would have to do this, but Francesca usually keeps some in the fridge for me, just in case the urge to cook hits me.”
“Does it often hit you?”
“Often? No. Sometimes.”
“Like when you’re trying to impress a girl?”
“I don’t try to impress anyone. And no women come to my home.”
“What? But then . . .”
“Do you really want to talk about this?”
Red-hot jealousy pours through my veins, and I realize that no, I don’t. I shake my head back and forth adamantly. But still, I’m curious if he doesn’t bring women here. I mean, I hope there are no women at this point since he’s with me, but I never did ask him that. Shit, here I am having crazy sex with my husband, yet we never had the talk.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and I see he’s staring at me from where he’s perched at the stove.
“I mean, I know we’re married and all, but we never discussed things.”
“What kind of things did you want to discuss?”
“We didn’t use protection.”
“One, I trust if you were not clean, you wouldn’t let me. Two, I won’t use protection when I fuck you. You’re different. You’re my wife, and as I said when we first got married, we will eventually need to have children.”
“I had the shot—”
“Oh.”
It’s almost as if he’s disappointed.
“The point is, we’re both clean. I’m not fucking you with a condom.”
“You can’t sleep with anyone else.”
“Viviana. I haven’t so much as looked at another woman since I married you.”
My mouth opens and shuts. Is what he says true? I want him to turn back around so that I can see if he’s telling the truth, but then I remember what he once said to me. He won’t lie. If that’s the case, and I believe it is, why lie now? He wouldn’t.
“Okay,” I croak. I start to fiddle in my seat as I watch him. He’s back to stirring the sauce. I stand from the chair and start to pace.
“Do you want a glass of wine or something?”
“Yeah, you can grab an open bottle in the fridge. The glasses are in the far cabinet.” I realize I’ve been living here for a few weeks, and I don’t know where anything is.
I’ve never had to since Francesca has always been here. And it’s nice to be alone with him to just see what it is like to be domestic with him, see what it’s like to have a life with him. I walk across the room and open the fridge, finding a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.
“If you want red, it’s in the back right behind this room in that door, and then there’s some more in the cellar in the basement.”
“Red would go better with tomato sauce, but since we’re not eating for a while, right? I’d like a glass of white.”
“Normally, when I make sauce, I let it simmer all day, but this time, we’re going to do an abbreviated version and only let it simmer for forty minutes.”
“And what will we do while we wait? Are we going to start the lasagna?”
“Francesca left noodles in the fridge, so I’ll just use those. I guess I will have to think of something else to kill time.”
He turns back to the pot, and then he covers it.
“What can we do then . . .” he trails off.
I’m about to answer, but then he’s stalking over to me. The moment he approaches, he pulls the string of my robe, and then it’s open and gaping at the front. Before I can say anything else, he lifts me up under my underarms and places me on the kitchen island. And he’s pushing me back down. Everything is happening so fast I barely can comprehend it before I feel the swipe of his tongue.
He has his face buried between my thighs, and he’s worshiping me. He thrusts his fingers into me. One, two, and three and then he’s fucking me with his hand.
I’m so close.
I try to grip the cold marble under my back, but I can’t find anything to hold as I rush toward my high. I think I’m about to crash, but then his tongue stops moving, and his fingers pull out.
I whimper at the empty feeling.
But I don’t have to for long as before I can fully comprehend it, he’s lining himself up with my core and thrusting inside. His hand’s now wrapped around my waist, holding me steady.
Is this slow?
This isn’t slow.
No, this is fast and hard.
An unquenchable appetite.
He can’t get enough of me, and I can’t get enough of him. I lift my hands and wrap them around his neck, bringing his mouth to mine.
He starts to kiss me with reckless abandon, and I kiss him back. Telling him without words how much I want this. How much I need him.
