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When the sliding glass door slid open, loud, chaotic music thumped with a heavy bass, swirling around me as I entered.
He had his back to me sitting on a bench doing some impressive move where he pushed a dumbbell the size of my torso high over his head with one arm and then slowly lowered it back to his lap.
My husband was drop-dead gorgeous and worked hard to stay in tip-top shape, even nursing a shoulder injury from being shot and then from separating it trying to get out of his chains. It didn’t slow him down a bit, it just made him angry, and he turned that anger into dedicated muscle energy and spent a lot of his time working out to soothe it.
Because he didn’t trust himself to let loose around me anymore.
And I fucking hated it.
He wore only a loose pair of black shorts with sneakers and sweat covered his torso and arms, making my mouth water with a carnal need that hadn’t been satisfied in months.
Five long months to be exact. That was how long it had been since the shooting and since he started treating me like a delicate flower again, refusing to give me the passion I needed.
Don’t get me wrong, the slow tender love Nico ‘The Wolf’ Capasso could put down was otherworldly and I never came up for air feeling unsatisfied. But I did end up feeling like half of me was missing.
After every slow sensual lovemaking that he gave, he’d sneak away to the gym where he could get the violence he craved out of his system until he could relax.
But enough was enough.
“Wife.” He said from the bench with his back still to me. The mirror he faced gave me away, but he never lifted his eyes from his own form to notice me. He didn’t need to. He sensed me just like I did him when he came near. “You’re staring again.”
I snapped my eyes from the delicious muscles of his strong back to find his eyes finally locked on me in the mirror. I stood behind him, running my hands over the swell of my baby bump, nearly salivating and he caught me.
“You shouldn’t look so yummy if you didn’t want admirers.” I cocked my head to the side and smirked at him. “Why are you hiding from me today?” I walked in front of him and pressed my back against the mirror, blocking his view and interrupting his set. But he just kept pressing the iron over his head with his eyes locked on mine.
It was freezing cold in the room, thanks to the world-class air conditioner, but my body was an inferno of desire that even my small sundress couldn’t provide relief from.
“I never hide from you,” he replied, finally setting the weight down and leaning back against the inclined backrest, spreading his feet and looking even more god-like. “You’re always right here.” He tapped his temple. “Even when I try to keep you out.”
“Do you still try to keep me out?” I questioned, twirling the tie that held the bust of my dress closed around my finger. His eyes followed the motion before trailing back up to mine.
“No. It’s pointless to even try.”
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I asked and his brow furrowed as he regarded me, but he didn’t answer. “Or how much of my life is consumed by you?” I leaned up off the mirror and walked forward until the hem of my dress brushed over his knee. “There’s no hiding myself from you either, Nico, yet somehow you’re still avoiding my needs.”
His scowl deepened and he sat forward on the bench. “What needs of yours am I not meeting.”
“The one to make me feel like a woman,” I responded, sliding my fingers up the sides of his neck and looping them around the back. “The need to feel like you’ve never wanted anyone else in the world more than you want me.” His nostrils flared and he dropped my stare, choosing to look off at something behind me. “The need to feel like you wouldn’t survive without me anymore.”
“I do.” He snapped, finally letting that anger free that burned inside of him.
That violence, that I craved.
“You used to,” I rebutted, hooking my thumbs under his jaw and forcing his head back to me until he had no choice but to face me.
To face this.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do.”
“I expect you to fulfill my needs,” I hissed, letting my own frustrations rise to match his. The passion burned in my belly, and I felt his body tense under my hands. “Give me what I need, Nico.”
He wrapped his hand around my throat and pulled me forward until I straddled him on his lap with my toes hanging above the ground and our noses nearly touching. Neither of us let go of the other’s neck. “And what about my needs, Wife?”
My skin prickled at the implication. “Am I not meeting every single one of yours? What need do you have that I’m failing to give you?”
“My need to keep you safe!” he snarled. “My fucking need to protect you and this baby from any fucking harm that could come to you.” He dropped his free hand to my stomach and our baby responded by kicking against it. “Don’t you fucking understand what watching you walk into that house was like for me?” he yelled and then clenched his jaw shut so hard his molars cracked.
It was the first time he’d spoken about that night to me. He never told me what they did to him before I got there, and he only ever listened when I would talk about what I felt facing off with my father and his brother.
