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“A trophy?” Gianna frowns. “You’re about to tell me that I need to look pretty on his arm and say witty things when asked and stay quiet the rest of the time, right?”
I wince. “Some of the time, yes. But my goal is to find you a husband who will genuinely respect and care for you, Gianna. There are plenty of mafia sons who will want to meet you—it’s just a matter of finding you the right match. And if you marry someone closer to your age, there will be time before you have those kinds of responsibilities. Time for you to get to know each other and form some kind of companionship before you have to be a part of those kinds of things.”
“What about—” She licks her lips nervously, and I have to look away for a moment. The sight of her tongue flicking over her full bottom lip makes me feel slightly dizzy, and I feel my cock twitch in my suit trousers. “What about—after we’re married?”
I look at her, trying to hide the confusion in my voice. “What else do you want to know? Besides what I just explained—”
“I mean—” Gianna’s cheeks are flushing, red staining her high cheekbones. I realize with a slow glimmer of understanding what she’s talking about. “I mean, after thewedding.”
Oh no. We arenothaving this conversation.My chest tightens at the prospect of explaining the birds and the bees to Gianna, my mind racing, trying to parse out justhowinnocent she really is. “What is it that you’re asking, exactly, Gianna?” I ask as softly as I can, and I see her flush deepen.
“I don’t know—anything about pleasing my future husband, really.” Her voice is almost a whisper, her eyes flicking away from me as if she’s too embarrassed to look at me while she says it. “I know—a little about what to do, I mean, but nothow…”
Gianna swallows hard, still looking away, and I’m grateful for the moment to compose myself. The conversation has gone in a direction I didn’t expect, and just the sound of her soft voice whispering questions about how to please her future husband in bed has my cock thickening, a slow pulse of desire as I try to wrestle my own thoughts under control.
“I know it’s not how things are always done,” she continues, her voice a little stronger now. “But I want my husband to be faithful to me. I don’t want to wonder who he’s with, what he’s doing with others—even if it’s not love, I want him to be satisfied enough that he won’t stray. I want—” She breaks off again, and I suck in a slow breath, trying to think of what to say. It’s difficult, with my cock straining against my fly now.
She wants to satisfy her husband. Please him. Make sure he’s so well-fucked that he won’t have the slightest desire to stray from her bed.I could be that husband. All it would take is a word, a singleyesto Don Fontana, and Gianna would be mine. I can’t imagine straying, being unfaithful, not with her in my bed, sweet and innocent and perfect. I look at her with some effort, sitting there, almost trembling with embarrassment over the questions she’s forced herself to ask, and it’s all I can do to keep myself under control.
I want to reach for her, pull her into my lap and stroke her hair, kiss her gently, and promise her that it won’t matter, because she’s mine, and I’d never so much as look at another woman. I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to know, because I’ll teach her. I’ll teach hereverything, how to suck my cock and how to take it, how to part her pretty thighs so I can lie between them and taste her until she cries out for me again and again, how to give me everything that will please usboth. I could choose any one of a hundred men for her, and they wouldn’t be as devoted to her pleasure as I would be.
Get yourself under control, Moretti, the voice in the back of my head hisses at me.This is the kind of man you want to be? Fantasizing about teaching her to take your cock while she sits there shaking, asking you to comfort her?The guilt runs through me, thick and hot, and I swallow hard.
“You don’t need to worry,” I tell her as gently as I can. “I intend to try to find a husband for you who will respect you enough to remain faithful to you. And barring that, one who will respect you enough to be discreet.” I see Gianna’s eyes widen, her instant reaction, and I hold up a hand. “I know what it is that you want. But fidelity is something that is—difficult to find among men like the ones who occupy our world. You should go into this with clear eyes, Gianna.”
“I don’t want a husband who would cheat on me.” Her voice is soft, but firm. “I know better than to expect love. I might be sheltered, but I’m not an idiot. I know enough to know that a husband whom I can respect and get along with is what I should hope for. But I don’t think asking for him not to cheat is too much.” She licks her lips nervously, a flush growing in her cheeks. “I don’t want to spend my entire married life knowing that everyone secretly knows my husband is with other women too—that they’re all pitying me. All those other wives, wanting to commiserate with me over the shared infidelity of our spouses. It’s humiliating. I want my husband to respect me more than that—I don’t think that’s impossible.”
“I hope that’s true.” I look at her, wishing I could soothe her worries better than I’m able. “You’ll have a chance to meet your prospects, Gianna. You’ll talk to them and get to know them a bit, before a choice is made. You can say that’s what you want and see their reaction. I’m not trying to force you into anything. But Fontana won’t wait forever. You may not find a perfect choice.”
There’s a flicker of disappointment in her face, but she nods. “Is that all?” she asks, starting to get up from her seat, and I nod.
“For now. We can talk about it again later, Gianna. Not everything has to be worked out today.”
The moment she’s out of the office, I reach down and adjust myself, feeling my cock throb against my palm through the light wool of my trousers. It’s going to be hard to focus on much else, and I briefly consider going upstairs and dealing with it—but there’s the possibility of running into Gianna on the way. The last thing I want is for her to see the state that conversation left me in.
You’re a thirty-six-year-old man, Moretti, I growl at myself, looking back down at the papers on my desk.Surely, you can manage to ignore a wayward erection long enough for it to go away.
The problem, of course, is that my days around Gianna are beginning to feel like one prolonged wayward erection, throughout various parts of the day. I force myself to ignore it anyway, going over a spreadsheet until my eyes start to cross and my cock starts to soften, some of the frustration draining away.
And then I look up, out of the window that overlooks the pool at one side of the house, and see Gianna in a bikini.
And why wouldn’t she be?It’s one of the first beautiful days of summer outside, bright and hot and perfect for swimming. My first thought is that I’m glad she found the initiative to put on a swimsuit and do something she would enjoy, instead of staying in her room. But hard on the heels of that thought, slamming into me with a force that takes my breath away, is the feeling that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more beautiful girl in all my life—or one that I’ve more desperately wanted to fuck.
The hot guilt that lances through me on the heels of the thought doesn’t stop my cock from hardening again as I look at her, my easing erection springing back to full, aching life. Almost every inch of her perfect body is visible in the tiny red bikini that she’s wearing, from her full breasts that are only just covered by the small triangles of silky red fabric and strings to the narrow curve of her waist and slope of her hips, another small triangle covering the apex of her thighs, sliding up between the soft shape of her ass. All of her curves would fill my hands perfectly. I can imagine in a split second the weight of her breasts in my palms, the way her nipples would stiffen under my touch as I ran my fingertips over them, god, mytongue. Her legs are long and slender, her thighs perfect and soft, and I can imagine them wrapped around my shoulders as I delved my tongue between them, tasting her sweet pussy for the first time. The first man to ever touch her, taste her, the first to show her how good the heat of my tongue could feel, tracing her folds, sliding inside of her, licking over her clit. I canhearher startled gasp, realizing how good it can feel, her small whimpers of pleasure as I teach her all of those sensations for the very first time.
Fuck.My head is spinning with lust, every part of me focused on the vision yards away from me, just outside.I could go out there now. I could kiss her, lay her back on one of those lounge chairs, see what her reaction would be. I could teach her everything she needs to know about pleasure, and never let another man find out how well she could learn.I imagine eating her out there, in the sunlight, pulling aside that scrap of bikini to press my mouth between her thighs. It would be all I’d do, at first. I wouldn’t even show her how it felt to have so much as a finger inside of her yet—I’d just please her, make her come with my lips and tongue, until she was so overwhelmed with pleasure that she would beg for me to show her more.
My cock is throbbing, painful with need. I flex my hands at my sides, gripping the arms of my chair, knowing I should get up, leave the room, go literally anywhere else in the house. Above all else, I shouldnottouch my cock, because if I do, I’ll jerk off to the thought of Gianna out by the pool,inthe pool, of that red bikini clinging wetly to her glistening, soft skin, and then—
Then I’ll have fallen deeper into the pit of self-loathing that I’ve been digging for myself since I walked back into this mansion and agreed to watch over her until she could be safely married.
There’s plenty of work I could do. There are spreadsheets to go over, files to look at, Giacomo’s endless business arrangements and employees, and a dozen other things to familiarize myself with. Plenty of work that doesn’t involve watching Gianna sunbathe, swim, doanythingat all in that tiny bikini, or imagining her without it, or—
My cock throbs again, and I feel the damp heat of pre-cum against my thigh, my cock swollen and straining, leaking against my skin. My heart is pounding in my chest, a faint sheen of sweat on the back of my neck, the breath catching in my throat. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this aroused before, if I’ve ever, in all the time since the night I fucked a girl for the first time on the deck of Giacomo’s yacht and hoped the security tailing me wouldn’t interfere, wanted a woman as badly as I want Gianna Mancini right now.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything like this, and if I have, I can’t remember it.
If I have, I don’t know how I could possiblyforgetit.
