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Salvatore’s eyes widen, and he looks down at me. A moment before I said that, his hands were on my waist, drifting downwards with a clear intent to make good on my vulnerable position in his lap. But now he goes very still. “So you believe me?” he asks quietly, and I nod.
“I thought you forced me to marry you because you wanted me for yourself,” I whisper. “The same thing Igor accused you of. But everything that’s happened since then tells me that can’t be true. It doesn’t make sense. Why fight it so hard, if you married me for lust? Why care at all if I believe you about the Bratva, if you just wanted to make me yours and already have what you want? Why not make certain Pyotr couldn’t take me back the very first night? The only answer is that you were telling the truth. And I just didn’t want to hear it,” I admit softly, biting my lip. “I’m sorry for that, too.”
Salvatore reaches up, his fingers sliding along my jaw, tipping my mouth up towards his. “I’m glad to hear it, dolce,” he murmurs. “But there is one thing that I need to make clear.”
“What’s that?” I whisper, and his brows draw together, his expression dark as he reaches down to grasp my hips.
“I’d like to never hear you say that boy’s name again. But especially, never while you’re in my bed. And I never want to hear it, or any other man’s name, while you’re naked and in my lap. Do you understand me, Gia?”
His voice is rough, but there’s the smallest bit of humor in it. I nod, feeling desire lick down my spine as his fingers dig into my hips, lifting me up enough for me to feel his hard cock brush between my legs. “Yes,” I whisper.
“Good girl.” He lowers me onto the tip of his cock, letting me adjust to him before sliding me down the length of it, groaning as he fills me, and I settle atop him. “Now, I think it’s time I remind you of who your husband is.”
And with that, he leans back against the pillows, his hips thrusting sharply up into me as I gasp, my hands falling to his chest. “And I think it’s time I taught my pretty bride how to ride her husband’s cock.”
—
A half-hour later, we’re still in bed, this time sweaty and tangled in the sheets. Salvatore turns towards me, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. “You did well,” he murmurs, running one finger down my thigh. “Although I’m not averse to practicing more, if you want to perfect your technique.”
I roll my eyes teasingly. “Of course you’re not.”
“You enjoyed yourself too, from the sounds you made.” His fingers dip between my thighs, teasing me a little, pushing inside of me as if to make certain none of his release escapes. I’m too wrung out to come again, but it feels good, and the thought of him making certain that he gets me pregnant turns me on. It’s a turn-on for both of us, and I’m looking forward to taking advantage of it every chance I get.
After a few minutes, I sit up, looking out at the deck. “It’s time for brunch by now,” I laugh, glancing back at him. “I’m hungry. Can you order breakfast while I shower?”
Salvatore nods. He says nothing for a moment, and I feel a small twist of anxiety in my stomach, thinking about him leaving for the day. Our newfound happiness still feels tenuous, and I’m not ready to break the spell yet.
“I want you to stay here,” I say softly, turning to look back at him. “Stay and enjoy the day with me. Not just today, either. I want us to enjoy the rest of our honeymoon together. I don’t want to be on vacation by myself. This is our time to get to know each other, away from the threats, away from the stresses of daily life. We should take advantage of it.”
I hadn’t meant to say so much, but I couldn’t stop once I started. It makes sense to me. But I see the hesitation on Salvatore’s face, and I can’t help instantly jumping to the conclusion that he’s not willing to give me more than a day of his time.
“You asked what you could do to make me happy.” I wrap my arms around myself, looking at him uncertainly. “We said we’d try, Salvatore. I said I’d try. But just because we had a good day together yesterday, and this—” I wave my hand at the bed between us. “That doesn’t mean everything is completely fine now. And our marriage working, me continuing to try to make it work with you—it depends on whether or not I’m happy. I don’t want to be bound by the laws of a mafia marriage that says I can’t leave. If I’m miserable—I’m not going to stay.”
I see the shock on his face—and the instant resistance to that statement, too, that possessive look that I now know very well glinting in his eyes. I didn’t intend to threaten him or give him an ultimatum, but I’m terrified that one good day is going to make him think that it’s all fine now, and he won’t keep trying. That he’ll get complacent that quickly, and I’ll be miserable again.
Salvatore sits up, moving behind me, his hands skimming up the backs of my arms. “You’re mine, Gia.” He leans forward, murmuring it in my ear. “I promise you, there’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t find you.”
I twist around, looking up at his handsome face. Even like this, dark and possessive, he’s gorgeous to look at. Maybe even more so. “You could try,” I whisper, a hint of that old mocking, taunting note in my voice. “I’d make it hard for you.”
“Oh, dolce.” His hands skim up my arms again, settling on my shoulders and holding me in place. “Trust me, you make it hard for me every day.”
His lips graze my ear, and I shudder, the double entendre mixed with the touch of his mouth against my skin, making me melt. But I pull away before I can give in, slipping away from his hands.
“I mean it, Salvatore,” I whisper, my voice breathier than I mean for it to be. “I won’t stay if I don’t want to.”
He reaches out, grasping my chin lightly in his fingers. “Oh, I know, tesoro. And I mean it, too.”
He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against my mouth. “I won’t let you get away. No matter what you do.”
For a brief moment, I consider falling back into bed with him. But I need a moment to collect myself, a minute alone. “As interesting as it is that you’re ready to go again at your ripe old age,” I tease him, pulling away from the kiss. “I need a shower. And I’m hungry.”
Salvatore chuckles, kissing me once more before releasing me. “One of these days, dolce, I’m going to tie you to a bed and show you just how many times I can be ready for you.’
“Is that a threat?” I slip off of the bed, seeing the way his gaze drags down the length of my naked body.
“A promise,” Salvatore assures me. “Go shower, Gia. Brunch will be here when you’re done.”
He keeps that last promise. There’s food waiting when I emerge onto the deck after my shower. Salvatore is on a lounge chair with his laptop, skimming through a document while picking at bites of fruit off of a plate. I look at it, and then at him.
