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Once he’s rock-hard and ready, I lower the sheet to his thighs and climb over him, straddling him. I work at the buttons on his dress shirt I'm wearing, and I lower onto his erection. Once free, I throw the shirt to the floor and start circling my hips, adjusting to his large cock.
“Please, baby, don’t be mad at me. I promise I won’t do anything like that again,” I whisper, my voice low and siren-like. He bites his lip and tries not to give in, but I know what my body can do to him. I slide up and down slowly, gasping on the fall. “God, you feel so good. You're so big.” Stroke his cock and his ego.
“You're playing dirty,” he warns, resolve slipping second by second.
“I know. I really think you should forgive me though. I can be better.” I bite my lip and move my hands to my breasts, giving them the attention he normally would.
“Emelia,” he tries one more failed attempt, and I apologize again, but this time, I lower on him, bare down, and circle. When his eyes roll to the back of his head, I know I’ve won this time.
“You're such a naughty little slut.” He flips us and fucks into me harder and harder, and the information he demanded is now a thing of the past.
Thank God.
And I am able to get him to agree to let the first driver go within minutes.
We go at each other for a good two hours before he finally gets up from bed. The talking will have to come another day, I guess. But at least I know Lenny and the others are safe.
He stands, moving to the bathroom, and I feel cold then. Like I was used. Because usually I am. We make love, and then he’s gone until the next time. Sure, he kissed me and said he was going to shower, but I can't help but feel that loneliness creeping in.
Instead of letting him see me like this, I get dressed in a lounge set, the long-sleeved top hanging off one shoulder. I decide I will shower when he leaves for the day.
Stepping into the kitchen, I see breakfast was already made and the table is set. I'm sure Nico gave them a time, and the staff followed it strictly. Giulio is having a coffee at the kitchen island while reading the paper, and I walk by him to head to the coffee machine.
“Morning, Giulio.”
“Mrs. Valiente,” he says back. I have had some conversations with Giulio, but they were sparse, as he goes where my husband goes.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.
“Never do, but yes. Thank you, ma'am.”
His answer makes me smile. I pour some coffee with a dash of creamer and turn to look at him.
“That’s an interesting answer. A bit of an oxymoron,” I point out.
He matches my smile and laughs a bit.“I guess you could say that.”
I grab a piece of bacon and climb onto the kitchen counter. I should sit at the table, as it was set so nicely for us, but I’d much rather sit here and talk to him than move to the dining area.
“Are you married, Giulio?” He can't be over fifty-five, so I assume he must be. Unless he’s like other underbosses and chooses the life like Nico had before our arrangement.
“No, I was, but sadly she passed away.”
“Oh, Giulio, I'm so sorry.” I place my hand over my heart, and I fall silent. I never know what to say when someone tells me they’ve lost a loved one.
“It’s fine. It’s been a couple of years, but after her, I didn’t want anyone else. Besides—” He pauses to sip his coffee. There is some gray starting to come through his dark shoulder-length hair. He wears it either in a low bun or slicked back. Most men couldn’t pull that off, but he does very nicely. I will say, he is very handsome. “—I'm married to the job.” He shrugs.
I remember everything that happened last night. Who am I kidding? I don’t think I will ever forget all that happened last night. But one part that sticks out to me is one of the men I was dancing with killed Giulio's brother. Should I bring that up? Most likely, I shouldn’t, and for the first time this morning, I avoid a complicated question. Giulio doesn’t owe me any answers.
“If it makes you feel better, I have always been married…” I click my tongue and look up, thinking about the irony in my statement. “I have always been married to the mafia as well, even before Nico. We all are, in some way, right?”
Giulio nods with a knowing humorous smile. He seems so kind and levelheaded. It’s hard to think he has a mean bone in his body, but clearly he does, and I have seen it.
“Yes, we are. Also, James and Farren have been—” He pauses, and it isn’t the good kind of pause. He looks at me, and I put down my coffee, my body going cold. No. Please, no. “—moved. For now. Until Nico knows what he would like to do. I will make sure your new guards are here before you and Nico come back this afternoon.”
I’m about to get up to go to Nico, but he steps into the kitchen. Once again, my breath catches. He's dressed down, nothing like his tailored suits he wears daily. He's in jeans and a white V-neck shirt that still somehow looks expensive, which I’m sure it is. It hugs his arms, torso, and hips perfectly, and he styled his wet hair in his signature slicked-back look.
I forget for a moment what Giulio just said as he approaches me.
