“You look like you want to tear it apart. You look like you want to tearmeapart.”
He took a deep breath as he strode toward me. Then he swallowed, running his hands along the curves of my waist, his eyes pinned to my boobs. “Perche I do.”
Oh.
“But so will every other fuck with a dick that lays eyes on you,” he said through his teeth.
Okay, so he wasn’t just horny, he was jealous, too. That explained the hostility in his stare. It’d take me some time to get used to Dom’s jealousy, though. “Do you want me to go change?” I’d have never suggested something like that with any man I’d expected to be with. But I ended with the one man I’d never expected to date, let alone marry, and the consequences of his jealousy weren’t going to be a verbal sparring or a fist fight. It was going to end in blood.
His jaw twisted as he glared at my boobs—the dress cupped them beautifully and did show a fair share of cleavage—and then he growled. “I’ll allow it just tonight. I want the whole town to see how beautiful you are.”
“Thanks…but if you’re gonna be that agitated all night, I should just change. What if someone looks at me longer than you want or dares—”
“When they know you’re my wife, no fucking cazzone would dare look at you longer than it takes me to pop their fucking eyes in their skulls.”
“That’s…reassuring and disturbing at the same time.”
“You have a problem with wanting you all for myself? You want other men to desire you, to dare have thoughts about having you?”
When he put it that way… “No.” I didn’t hesitate or even give it much thought. It was very strange to have that affirmation. It wasn’t out of manipulation or fear or obligation or coercion. It was natural and rather soothing. Something raw away from all inhibitions.
Real.
A grin took over me at the startling epiphany. “I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
“Do you want to be withme?”
I do.My grin grew wider. The first time I said it to him I was lying, just trying to survive. Now, everything had changed.
“Do you want to be with me, Nicky?” he repeated.
I pursed my lips, teasing him. “It’s not like I have a choice,vero?”
“No,” he said seriously, somehow not seeing right through me or being one step ahead of me as always or even teasing back. “You’re mine whether you want to be or not.”
“Well, let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I do have a choice, do you think I’d choose you?”
His nostrils flared, and his grip tightened around my waist in a possessive manner. “It doesn’t make any difference. You aremine. And I know you’re smart enough to understand with me is where you truly belong, and no matter what, the only way I’ll ever let you go is in a grave.”
How could he instill fear and desire inside me at the same time? That jealous, possessive, even obsessive way of treating a woman never had its appeal on me. If anything, it terrified me, especially after Tino—becauseof Tino. But from Dom, it was a whole different story. “I get it.” I did. My body did anyway. Maybe I should go change my panties before we left.
As I spun, he pulled me back into him. Was Daddy on to his little slut? “But I’ll tell you this,” his voice dropped, still serious, “if your answer was,not yet, I’d do anything until you finally said yes.”
Anythingwas a big word. He’d already done everything to make me want to be with him. Whether I’d act upon it, whether I’d stay and play according to his Mafia rules of loyalty, honor and respect, was questionable. It wasn’t going to be easy. My hate for Tino had never changed, and neither had Dom’s loyalty.
That was a conversation and a decision for later, though. I needed a night of peace to be able to gain clarity and make the right choice.
When he grabbed my hand and led me to the door, I was uncharacteristically shy to tell him I needed to change my panties. However, again uncharacteristically,Daddy, I’m wet, was dancing on the tip of my tongue.
My beautiful monster had messed me up.
Another reason why I needed to get my head straight away from any influence, especially his—or that of his dick. I bit my lip and just followed his lead.
At the villa’s front door, he put a fur coat on my shoulders and donned his. Then he linked arms with me as he ushered me to the waiting car. The bodyguards opened the doors for us, and Lombardo, the guy I’d broken his nose, drove us to the hotel.
Unlike what I’d expected—I thought we’d go to a cozy, Italian, vintage building turned into a hotel—the place was huge. Resort huge. Lombardo drove through the vast land for at least five minutes before music streamed in. I looked from the tinted window at the building. It looked like there was a party on the rooftop.
Upon arrival, a man in a gray suit shook Dom’s hand and bowed his head at us. I assumed he was the manager—or an associate. Dom introduced me as his wife, and the man turned out to be the manager as I presumed. I held my hand out of politeness even though I still didn’t like to be touched. He hesitated to take my hand, but after Dom nodded once, the manager kissed the back of my hand. “Piacere. La signora è stupenda, Signore.”