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‘So you’ve said… but if I ever fucking see him again, I can’t and won’t let him live… you know that. In fact, I’ll kill the bastard with your knife.’
‘You won’t see him again,’ I whispered, praying my uncle already had him travelling to the airport.
‘I bet he checked how comfortable you were after every pathetic push inside you and then whispered pleasantries in your ear.’
‘Your anger is stopping you from hearing me…whatyou’re accusing me of never happened between us.’
I could tell that he still wasn’t hearing me.
‘I know you, Serafina De Luca… fuck, I gave rise to you… you can’t tell me that’s what you wanted? To be softly fucked by him?’
‘You’re right. I wanted you… But you weren’t there!’ I admitted, as the words fell from my mouth and my voice increased in volume.
My accusations hung in the air around us.
‘I’m here now, little bird,’ he spoke, as he lifted a heavy swath of my hair and pushed his face into it. I felt him inhale the smell of my orange blossom shampoo and was transported directly back to Calabria. Back to a time when he used to climb into bed after washing away his sins of the day in the sea below our home and buried himself within my scent, either between my legs or in my hair.
‘So you keep saying… You also keep accusing me of something that didn’t happen, and I know you… there is no way you could have spent the last five years without at least one woman.’ I understood what I’d just accused him of wasn’t uncommon in our community, as most married men there had at least one mistress. Except, in the two years we’d been together, I’d known that we were more like my parents, and the way his grandfather spoke so lovingly of his grandmother that like them, we might have had a chance at being different.
My statement came back at me. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and hoped he’d had many, many women while we were separated. The thought of him only having one and being with her like he had been with me in our two years together, caused a sharp pain deep down inside me.
‘Tell me you had lots of women?’ I pleaded.
‘There’s been enough.’ I knew his answer was meant to hurt me. But suddenly, the pain dissolved. ‘But they weren’t you, Serafina. You test me, you push me to be fucking better. You constantly demand more.’
‘I love you. That’s the difference.’
‘No.’ He refused my love like I knew he would and then as usual deflected it. ‘Arms above your head,’ he demanded and I knew that for now our heart to heart was over.
Immediately, I complied with his order.
The room filled with the sound of my zip being lowered. Cooler air hit my exposed skin. His mouth came to my left shoulder and he sucked a small area of skin into his mouth, before slowly clamping his teeth together. After releasing the area, he soothed my skin with his tongue, leaving behind his mark and pain swathed in pleasure before he moved on. At the same time, his warm hands came around me and found the tops of my breasts to push my strapless dress off my body. I gasped at the touch of his skin on mine and inhaled as I unconsciously tried to get his calloused hands to touch my breasts. Salvatore, however, was an expert in the way my body reacted to his. His fingers skirted around just where I wanted them, and all I got to feel was the expensive fabric of my dress as it shimmied over my needy body before it fell to the floor, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
‘Bend over.’ The lust contained in his voice was unmistakable.
Wearing nothing more than the blue thong I’d put on earlier, after realising how unforgiving my dress was, I felt just how soaked the small piece of fabric was between my legs as I began to comply.
‘I can smell how wet you are.’ Salvatore inhaled brusquely. ‘So fucking wet for me, little bird.’
With one of his hands now pushing in the centre of my back, and my arms over my head, my body found the cold tabletop. My nipples lengthened on contact and my need for the man behind me ramped up another gear.
‘Ohhhh,’ I heard myself moan.
I heard him unzip his fly. Then, as his breathing changed and he exhaled a hiss between his teeth as he slowly released the air, I knew he had taken his cock in his left hand, and I grasped how well my memories of him had served me over the years. Acting on an impulse I tried to turn, with my basic instincts pushing me on. I wanted to see him pleasure himself as I had many times before. It suddenly felt essential to see the angry, resilient, conundrum of a man I loved, showing me his weakness, his own need for me.
But as I began to turn, his other hand pushed me back to where he’d ordered I stay.
‘No.’
‘Salvatore.’ I heard the pathetic pleading sound in my voice, but comprehended it was in vain. I was only going to receive what he wanted me to have and no more.
At last, his knee came between my legs.
‘Open your legs.’
He knocked his knee on the inside of both of mine, until I thought I was positioned where he wanted me.
It seemed I was wrong.
