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“Okay.”
I put Benedetto on hold and text Father Lorenzo.
When are you seeing her again?
He thankfully answers pretty fast.
Tomorrow. She’s been coming here to say her prayers.
How sweet of her, I write before going back to my call.
“What are you up to tomorrow?”
“The usual.”
“She’s gonna be at the church, praying allegedly.”
“Yeah okay. I can work with that.”
“Good luck. And see you soon.”
There’s a short silence on the line. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“You know the borders are watched right?”
“I got a way in.”
“I won’t ask. Get in touch when you can.”
“Yeah. Bye Ben. I’m relying on you.”
“I know.”
Talking with Benedetto is like getting a little bit of home here in Chicago, but the aftermath is more bleakness than I can bear. I close my eyes, thinking back to the last time I was with Giada. Our one and only night as a married couple. I’d bought her the cutest teddy from the Fenty store, and she had laid herself out for me, hands and legs spread, an invitation.
It was all I could do not to jump her at once and fuck her into the mattress. I’d wanted to give her the full scene experience, but I was so impatient. I ended up just tying her up, playing with her body before taking possession of it in every way possible. I’d have felt bad about how roughly I used her if she wasn’t egging me on, no, pleading with me to go harder, faster, deeper.
My dick stands at attention just remembering it.
The sex had been phenomenal, but it was the aftercare that really got me. She was lying on the bed after I untied her, like a ragdoll carelessly flung away by a child, insensible. I straightened her body out and then massaged some feeling back into her limbs before wiping her carefully down. I fetched her a glass of water to drink before tucking her into my arms and holding her.
She lay completely supine and replete in my arms, giving herself over to my care in a way that made me so tender I could weep. It is crazy how the world can be so perfect one minute, and can completely go to hell, the next.
I’m gonna get you back baby. Just have a little patience.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
For some reason, my father thinks that I need bodyguards to go to church. I try to dissuade him, but he won't budge.
“Your fiancé is very adamant. We must watch you at all times so that what happened to you before won't happen again.”
“In that case, can I just go with my aunt please?”
My father lets out a sigh. “No. She has other things to do with her time. She cannot be at your beck and call all the time.”
“She doesn’t mind spending time with me!”
