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“Emelia. I will fuck your cunt with my tongue the number of times you act like that today, but I will only bring you right to the edge,” I threaten.
She goes up on her tiptoes and bites the side of my jaw. My cock starts to grow hard, and I look around, making sure no one is watching my wife take intimacy from me.
“I love the idea of you eating me and withholding my orgasm from me for hours. Sounds like the perfect date, husband.”
My eyes roll back, and my cock is now fully hard. I have to have her. I need to feed my cock the meal it's grown to crave morning, noon, and night.
“But we will have to wait until tonight, I suppose.” She shrugs, wiggles from me, and leaves me standing there hard, horny, and now ready to pounce. That dirty little wife of mine has no idea what I will do for that tonight. I also can’t believe I’m here playing fucking house and letting Emelia into my personal space as more than just a wife of convenience and a fuck of a lifetime.
Giulio was surprised when I told him I wanted the week with Emelia and with minimal to no involvement with work. Is it a bad idea, given we are most likely going to war with the Notellis and starting problems with possible other outfits if they do not agree to this? Yes. But I’m not afraid of a little fuel on my fire. In fact, I welcome it. The buildup to war is almost—almost—as satisfying as fucking. I’m fucked in the head, and in my line of work, I embrace it.
Emelia disappears inside the building, and I catch up to her a few moments later. When we’re inside, she looks around curiously.“Where is everyone?”
Placing my hand on the curve of her back, I urge her toward a bench near an entrance gate to the rink.“I wanted you to have it all to yourself. I rented it out.”
She halts abruptly and turns to look at me. “Nico, that is insane. That must have cost a fortune!”
“Emelia, I own Seattle. I have enough money you could drown in it.” I shrug, and she shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “Another orgasm withheld,” I say, and she smirks.
“You’re an ass.”
“If you think this behavior is me being an ass, I would hate to know just how bad you thought I was before today.”
“The worst,” she admits nonchalantly.
“Good, because—” I stop her, needing her to hear this. I grasp her chin and pull her face to me, and she looks softly into my hard eyes. “—there will be times, Emelia, when I won’t be able to be a charming prince. I will have days where business will interfere, and I will have to set boundaries and lift walls for those moments. I need to know you understand that and won’t let it set back whatever we build.”
Hesitation is glaring at me like the sun would. This is a different tone than the one we’ve carried since last night, but it has to be done. I’m not a soft man. I may be able to give her a gentle side when needed, but that isn’t going to be me every day, all day, and I still have to be Nico outside of our marriage.
“I understand.” Blinking, she agrees to my terms.
“Good.” I don’t know what she’s thinking in that moment, but it can’t be the worst thing, because she hasn’t pushed me away and told me to go fuck myself. But she does free herself and walk ahead of me, not keeping physical contact.
I can give her that. If she is to respect the boundaries I set, then I need to reciprocate, even if it makes me want to pull her in and smack her ass. Having a wall put up by her is worse than the walls I place. Mine are to protect her. Hers are to keep me at a distance. That is something we will need to learn to understand and compromise, something I know almost all marriages require. Give and take and an even greater amount of sacrifice. But in our world, those stakes are higher, and the sacrifices are much bigger.
Keeping a good distance from her, I follow Emelia to the bench. I resist touching her and pulling her to me, but we’re in her element now, and I will let her lead. She sits, and I place the bag next to her before leaning against the plexiglass and half wall of the rink. Folding my arms across my broad chest and crossing my ankles, I admire her precision and the delicate way she puts on her skates, lacing them up.
Her hair is slicked back into a low bun, her face free of makeup, showing the faintest sign of freckles. Emelia is wearing tight yoga pants that hug every inch of her like a second skin and a long-sleeved top that is just as tight, but it's cropped, showing me the slightest amount of skin. A peek of her upper stomach shows, and I see that freckle, the damn thing I want to kiss and lick all the time.
Focus, Nico. This is Emelia’s place.
She moves past me without a word and opens the gate to the rink. Before she steps in, she looks back to me, her eyes somehow looking brighter against her cold cheeks.“Do you skate?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Giving me an incredulous, curious look, she glides onto the ice and keeps talking to me.“So, you came here today just to watch me skate?”
“Yes.”
“Because that’s not creepy. That would make you a stalker.”
“I kill people and sell drugs and weapons. Stalking should be nothing to you,” I tell her, and she shakes her head, but as she does this, she does some sort of turn and slight jump in the air before landing on one foot and letting her other move easily behind her.
“What was that move?”
“A clockwise toe loop. It’s a simple jump.” She does it again, but this time, she does two circular movements in the air, before landing gracefully.
“Simple? I would fucking break my skull if I ever did that.”
