Page 23 of The Mafioso’s Bride

“Do you?”

She raises one eyebrow. “That belongs to my marriage.”

“That is a reasonable boundary. But you think I may enjoy it.”

“Yes. You may also dislike it. You can ask him to stop, change what he’s doing, or give you more.”

“I want more.”

The heat under my skin isn’t a debt or the next task on a wife’s schedule. It belongs to me.

“Would you have lunch with me again next week?” Polina asks.

“To discuss sex?”

“We can discuss anything. Or nothing important. I’d still enjoy your company.”

“Are you asking because our husbands work together?”

“No. I want to spend time with you.”

“Then yes. I’d enjoy that too.”

When I arrive home, Susan tells me Luca is in his office. He sits behind his desk, studying rows of numbers on a monitor.

“How was lunch?” he asks.

“Useful.”

“Give me ten minutes, and you can tell me about it.”

“No.”

He looks at me. I walk around the desk and stop close enough for his knee to touch my skirt.

“I don’t owe you sex for marrying or protecting me.”

His chair turns toward me. “No, you don’t.”

“I may set conditions. I may change my mind. I may tell you to stop.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to stop.” I take his wrist and place his palm against my waist. “I want your mouth between my legs. I want you to make me come.”

Luca

“Did Polina tell you to do this?”

“No.”

“She answered my questions. This is my choice.”

I remove my palm from her waist and step away, leaving a full stride between us. “And what are you asking me to do?”

Her brows pull together. “I told you.”

“I need to be certain you’re asking for what you want.”