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Maybe we can make this new chapter of our lives… mean everything.
This time when we land, she closes her eyes and leans into me. I lay my arm over her shoulders and hold her tight.
I wish I could hold her like this forever. I wish I could protect her just like this.
CHAPTER 16
Elise
We’re so tired when we arrive in Tuscany, we practically collapse onto his big, massive bed. I barely remember removing my makeup and brushing my teeth before I climb under the sheets and he climbs in behind me.
But I wake to him nuzzling my neck and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I roll over, already turned on and ready. He cups my breasts and kisses the underside of each one before he licks and suckles them. I can’t stifle my whimpers or moans as I turn to him.
I decided to fake it until I made it. I might love this man.
Sometimes, self-giving love is bound in lovemaking just as anything else. Sometimes, physical intimacy bridges a rift.
And sometimes it doesn’t.
He lays me on my back. I crave his weight on top of me, his hands on my wrists, his mouth imprisoning mine. I sigh as my body begins to mold to his. As I fully let go and yield to him.
He nudges my knees apart and grinds himself between my legs.
“Who owns you?” he whispers in my ear as I spread my legs for him.
“You do,” I breathe. My wedding band and bracelet feel almost heavy, stark reminders of my marriage to him.
“Whose babies will you have?”
“Yours,” I moan, when he strokes between my legs.
I’m eager and ready when he slides into me, making slow, sweet love. So close, it feels like heaven, so intimate, it feels like the best-kept secret. My body rises with his and falls with his. My need to climax pools into a bundle of nerves as he thrusts and groans with his own pleasure.
“Come, baby,” he whispers in my ear when he can tell I’m close. “I want to watch you.”
When I’m lying on his chest, I hear the sound of gulls flying outside our window and know that we haven’t just come here to honeymoon. We lay like that, after lovemaking, holding each other.
Finally, he breaks the silence.
“I’m meeting with my cousins today. You’re coming with me.”
I nod. “Of course.”
“I have some suspicions and need to work them out.”
I nod quietly. There will be no real escape from this side of things. “And?”
He doesn’t answer.
I don’t ask again.
As I shower and he takes phone calls outside the bathroom, I wonder what else he hides from me. Do we call it hiding when he doesn’t even pretend? He didn’t tell me my own mother came to our wedding. He didn’t tell me who he suspects in his cousin’s murder. Is there anything else he hides from me? No doubt.
The better question is, when I find what he hides from me, will I be able to bear it?
We eat a simple breakfast prepared by his staff—scrambled eggs, rustic slices of thick, buttered bread, and a delicate fruit salad. He fills me in.
“We’re heading to my family’s home first,” he says. “Leo has a home here in Tuscany. I’ll introduce you to the guards you’ll be with here, and go over your rules.”
I nod, even as my feminine ire rises at the sound of “rules.” I know this is Tavi. This is my life. He may dote on me and have claimed me as his own, his “family” now, but he hasn’t softened at all.
“Alright,” I say, even as I grit my teeth.
“Elise,” he says warningly.
“What?”
“You have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
He purses his lips. “You know. The one that says, fuck off.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Frowning, he pushes away from the table, spreads his legs, and points between his knees. “Come here.”
I swallow my pride and stand, dragging my feet as I walk over to him. “Okay. Here I am.”
Wordlessly, he threads his fingers through my hair. I can’t help the feeling that he’s walking on eggshells. He isn’t afraid of offending me. Then what is it he’s hiding?
My phone buzzes with a text, then another. He gives one short shake of his head. A part of me wonders if this is a test. “I have to do shit I don’t want to do today.” I bend and kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, baby,” he says softly. “Thanks for that. Remember to do what I say today. Got it?”
I nod. “Got it.”
We’re halfway there when I look at my phone. It’s a number I don’t recognize.
Unknown: Nice of you to get married and not even tell your mother.
I glance at Tavi, who’s deeply invested in a phone call. He catches my eye and smiles. I’ll wait until he’s done.
Unknown: Do not tell your husband I sent this.
