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We only have an hour so it’s not like we can go far. Salvatore takes a left on a street that winds up into the Lincoln Hills. It’s an old part of town and the houses are huge and expensive and the streets are quiet, especially this late at night. He parks at the top at the lookout over the city.
He cuts the engine and turns to me. I can just make out his face in the darkness.
“Salvatore, why have you been avoiding me?”
He touches my face. “I thought it would be easier, but it’s not.”
“Can I ask what you think of me?”
“I think you’re going to be a troublesome wife.” But he’s smiling as he says it.
It’s more deflection than answer, but I don’t push him because I only asked the question so I can answer it. “You’re not who I would have chosen as a husband. This isn’t the life I would choose for myself, but here we are. If you believe you’re worthy of it, I think I could grow to love you.”
He raises one eyebrow, as if the idea of not being worthy of something has never occurred to him. “Worthy?”
“You’re full of fear. Full of hate. Full of ambition. There isn’t room for love in your heart with all that crowded inside.”
A shadow slips over his expression, but he seems to shake it off and gives me a charming smile. “Baby, you’re worried about my heart?”
He kisses me, and slides a hand up my sundress. His questing fingers brush my inner thighs.
“Salvatore. I’m still seventeen.”
“You little goody-goody. You’re only seventeen for…seven more minutes.” Salvatore glances at the clock and then slides one strap of my dress down and then the other. “We’ll be officially engaged tomorrow. You’ll be my wife in one week.” He leans down and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, and then the other.
I can’t find it in me to resist when his touch is sending fireworks through me.
He scoops my breasts together and runs his tongue across them both. “Fuck, baby. You’re soft as butter. What were we talking about?”
My eyes are closed, I have one hand braced against the roof of his car and my heels are lifting off the floor. I have no idea.
He tests one of my nipples with his teeth. “Oh, yes. You becoming my wife. You will honor the Fiore name when it becomes yours. You will be obedient. Respectful. Beautiful.” He sucks my nipple slowly and then lets it go. “But that last one will be easy for you, won’t it,baby?”
Obedient. Respectful. Beautiful. Oh, piss off. “If I want to lie around in sweats with tangled hair and talk back to you after we’re married, then I will.”
He tugs my dress down to my waist and pushes my thighs apart. I glance out the windows at the surrounding park. There are no other cars. No movement.
“There’s only one way this goes,” he says, sliding two fingers against my clit over my underwear. “You’ll be my wife and do as I say.”
He slides down with his fingers, and then up with his nails. They scrape over the wet fabric, the vibrations coursing through me.
“And if I—ahhh.” I open one eye and peer at the dash. “It’s still five minutes to midnight.”
Salvatore grasps my underwear and pulls them down my legs. “Fuck midnight. I want to feel your pussy.”
When he starts circling my clit I let my legs fall open and give in. I’ve made myself come thinking about Salvatore, more than once. I crave to know what the real thing feels like.
“And if I don’t do as you say?” I pant.
“I gave you a taste of the man I can be when I lose my temper on your last birthday. You never have to see that man again. It’s your choice.”
“I’m not going to live in fear of you.”
“Chiara, if you keep talking back, I will fucking ruin your orgasm,” he growls through his teeth.
Ruin my orgasm? What does that even mean? “I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be.” Salvatore rubs my clit in firm circles, exactly the right pressure and tempo to have me panting and seeing stars. I press my fist against the car ceiling and give into what he’s doing, suddenly not caring if there are a hundred people staring in at me with my legs splayed open and my breasts bare.
