AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Per favore, it would be my pleasure,” she says, gesturing to the elegant restaurant to our left.
“Thank you, we would appreciate that.” I emphasise we because I want her to acknowledge David’s importance. He will not be made to feel inferior because he is my submissive. “But first, let us freshen up, and we will meet you in an hour?” I ask.
“Perfetto. See you then, signori,” she says, turning on her heels and heading to the restaurant, Gio close behind her, and if I didn’t suspect that he was her submissive, I would have thought him her bodyguard.
David still hasn’t looked at me on the way to our suite, and as soon as I close the door behind us, I turn him around in my arms, “Are you okay, baby? You didn’t say a word earlier. I thought you would like the opportunity to spend time with the Italian Contessa?”
“I didn’t know how you wanted me to act around her. You were mad last night after the elevator, and I don’t know why, so I didn’t want to do or say something that would upset you again,” he says, still not making eye contact.
“I’m the one who needs to apologise,” I say, and placing my fingers under his chin, I lift his head so I can look into his beautiful blue eyes. “I’m an asshole, and you don’t deserve that. Last night was overwhelming, and it evoked feelings I thought I had worked through… but evidently, I haven’t. They’re my issues; I shouldn’t take them out on you.”
A tear threatens to fall from David’s sad eyes, but I catch it with my thumb, locking our gazes. “Can you forgive me, my Prince?” I ask, knowing I need to apologise as his Sir and his husband.
He nods, but I can see him fighting more tears from falling.
“Give me your words, baby,” I coax.
“I love you, Jon. Always.”
“I appreciate those as well, but they’re not the words I need.”
Sighing, he looks up and me and gives me what I want, “I forgive you, Sir. Though I still don’t know why you were mad…”
“You deserve an explanation. To put it simply, I was jealous. I didn’t like how she was looking at you … or how you were looking at her.” Admitting the latter is difficult, but he deserves my honesty.
“Well, she is beautiful. Who wouldn’t look at her?”
“I didn’t like it because she’s a dominant like me. I don’t share, David. You know this, and when she called you Prince, I wanted to fuck you in front of her to show her who you belong to.”
“Sir…” David says, stepping closer and rubbing his body against mine. “You know I don’t like girls, right?” He asks, smiling at me again. “I am yours, and if you wanted to fuck me there, I wouldn’t have stopped you. I trust you in everything. I don’t want or need someone else. I love you.”
“And I love you. So, I don’t want you to feel scared of being you. Don’t worry about my reactions; they’re my responsibility, not yours, okay? You’re perfect and charming. Don’t change because I can be an asshole.”
He nods, biting his lips, as his palms lightly caress my chest, and I draw him closer, “We’ll need to go down there before I can have my wicked ways with you, my Prince.”
“Anything you say, Sir.”
Goddammit, he knows which buttons to push to get me hot and ready for him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DAVID
I can’t stop thinking about what Jon said—
“I wanted to fuck you in front of her to show her who you belong to.”
My cock throbs, thinking about him fucking me in front of her and Gio. Am I an exhibitionist? Or do I just like having others know without a doubt that I belong to Sir?
I like attention, but it’s more than that. It’s more … primal, almost. I want Sir’s attention, his focus completely centred on me. I don’t need to be fucked in front of a crowd to know that, and yet, now that the thought has been planted in my mind. I want it.
Just the feeling of his hand on my lower back as we walk towards the restaurant is electrifying. Suddenly I wish we hadn’t agreed to meet the Contessa. I would rather be spending time alone with my husband.
Entering the restaurant, I look toward the bar, trying to find Gio and the Contessa, but Jon is already turning us, and as we pass a marble pillar, I see them seated in a secluded booth.
Gio is not seated, exactly; he is being used as a footstool. He’s on his hands and knees under the table, with a look of satisfied relaxation on his face. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and I may be gawking when Jon clears his throat, and I look up to see the Contessa smiling at me as she puts away the papers and books she’s working on.
“Puoi sederti, Tesoro mio,” she says quietly to Gio while running her fingers through his dark hair. He gets up in a smooth motion and gently places her feet on the floor, his fingers grazing over her ankle.
