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“Leave us, Nikolas.” I bark out the command, wanting to be alone with my wife at least for a few minutes before our next engagement commences.
And wanting my brother gone because I cannot afford for anyone to sense any uncertainty in my manner.
Uncertainty in my position means loss of power. Loss of face. Possibly even death.
There must be something unrelenting in my tone because Nicky doesn’t hesitate. He gives Bianca a quick finger wave and disappears out the door, closing it quietly behind him, but not before shooting me a quizzical look.
Bianca half sits against the back of one of my sofas flanking the fireplace, studying me with an impassive expression. But she wraps her arms around her middle in a telltale action.
I lift my brows as I realize her confidence is at least partly a front.
“So, what’s the plan now, Rio?” she asks. “Do I need to be kept locked up in that suite all the time? Or do you need me to perform for the guests, presuming most of them are all still here? What do you want from me now that we’re married?”
What do I want from my wife? “I want many things from you, Bianca. But we will start with something simple. There is a luncheon on the river today for those wedding guests still remaining.
“I want you to accompany me to the event—which will be held on my cruiser—and I want you to act as if you are enjoying your new life as my wife. There will be important people at the luncheon. People who need to see us present a united front. So, let us start with that, Bianca, and see how we go from there.”
She pouts in a delightfully annoyed manner, and once again my cock stirs. Her mouth on my flesh last night was perfection. She had a hesitancy about her actions as she took me between her lips that spoke of innocence, but the sensations she elicited with that smooth up-and-down, suck-and-lick movement had me struggling to avoid coming right there down her throat.
Her tongue darts out to moisten her bottom lip, and I have to stop myself from rushing around the desk and crushing her mouth beneath mine.
“Well?”
She hasn’t responded.
“Shall we try to act like man and wife, Bianca? Or will I call my men and have you placed back in the suite once again?”
“All right.” Her voice is small and slightly husky. She clears her throat. “I’ll do it.” Then she sighs, and her arms drop to her sides. “I suppose you want me all dolled up again like a plastic mannequin?”
I tilt my head, unsure why there’s a part of me that enjoys the faint acerbity in her tone. I would tolerate that from no one else—except possibly Nicky—and I can’t pinpoint why I allow it from her.
“I think not,” I say at last. “You are perfect as you are.”
“Oh!”
I smile at her surprise. “You look young and innocent. They won’t be expecting that.”
Her shoulders slump. “Right. Of course.”
Finally, I rise to my feet and come around from behind my desk. She flinches a little as I reach her. She is confident, and yet not. That dichotomy, too, excites me. Everything about Bianca excites me.
“Are you going to behave today, little bird?”
“If it allows me some freedom, then yes,” she says, lifting her chin and gazing boldly up into my face.
But there’s a flicker of something deep behind her eyes. Resentment? Defiance?
The defiance excites me more than anything else.
Challenge me. I dare you, Bianca.
I grab her hips and drag her against me, wanting her to know my need. Hot, hard, and ready.
Her eyes widen and lips part. The defiance disappears, and in its place is raw, naked desire.
“Remember this moment, little wife,” I say, leaning down and almost, but not quite, touching my mouth to hers. “I want you. Make no mistake. And I will have you again. Over and over. Until you scream for mercy and release in equal measure.”
Her breath shortens, tiny pants erupting from her throat.
