14. Davide

Ifinish the upstairs room over the next week, working mostly during the mornings. Bruno and Emilio help when they can, but I make this my project. I like hanging drywall and running wire, it's strangely cathartic, and even though I have to stop a few times when I start to feel the bars of the cage clanging shut around me, the effort's worth it.

Things changed after that day. Stefania hasn't exactly thawed to me—she has her defenses very much in place, and it's obvious she's still feeling lost out here—but there's much less animosity. Actually, she's almost nice, which is hard to fathom. I figured with her, it was claws all over, and it's nice to know she can have a soft side too.

I wish I could spend more time with her, but I'm busy hunting down and eliminating the men that sabotaged our ships. It's an ugly and dangerous job, but it's my role in the Famiglia, and I've relished it for a long time. Though I find myself thinking more about Stefania when I'm out on my hunts, wondering what she's doing and what she's thinking. While it's a distraction I can't afford when my life is on the line, it's a distraction that I can't get out of my head.

About a week after Stefania came to live with me, I find her up in one of her rooms building bookshelves. She painted the walls a pale gray color, and now she's constructing what looks like a library: cozy chair near the window, lots of comfortable blankets and pillows, and stacks of books.

"This looks good already," I say from the doorway and she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed and smiling. I don't think I've seen her so happy, and it makes my heart beat faster. I like that she's enjoying herself, and I'm aware that being in this moderately small room with her doesn't bother me at all the way I thought it might.

I can't remember the last time I could stand being in an enclosed space like this with a person I barely know. I can handle my close friends, my parents, my siblings, but I've been married to Stefania for barely two weeks. She should still be a stranger.

Instead, I want to get closer to her.

"I'm still deciding what I want it to look like when I'm done," she says and sits back to stretch her legs.

"Do you want help finishing up?"

She shrugs and waves a hand at the half-constructed shelves. "I mean, I don't want to take up your time. You can if you want."

I step into the room and crash down beside her, aware of the smell of her shampoo and the curves of her body. She's in jeans and a simple black t-shirt, but I can't stop looking at her and thinking about that first night. I've been craving her presence for a while now, and being this close makes me yearn to dig my fist into her hair and tighten my grip, just to hear her gasp.

We don't talk about anything important as we work. I keep snatching glances at her as the shelves come together, and she catches me staring more than once. But I don't care; I love the little sheen of sweat on her forehead, the pink in her cheeks, the flash of skin at her midriff every time she reaches her arms up over her head. Her arms are long and her legs are curvy, and every inch of this woman makes me feel like I need to bury my mouth between her legs again.

"That went a lot faster than I thought," she says once we're finished. She stands back, wiping her hands together, and admires our work.

"That's because I am an extremely talented builder." I drape an arm around her shoulders and my heart does an extra beat, but I don't feel like I'm going to lose myself. If anything, a bead of sweat rolls down my back, and a kernel of desire simmers deep in my guts.

"Please, I did all the work before you got here."

"We both know I'm very good with my hands."

She rolls her eyes but looks up at me and we pause like that, inches apart, bodies pressed together. She turns slightly to face me, her chest to mine, and I can feel her soft breasts against my muscles as my other hand rests on her hip, and her head tilts to the side, her lips spread slightly, giving me the most delicious kiss me stare in the whole world. My mouth waters, and it's taking all my willpower not to drag her to the floor and ravish her until her ass is pink and bruised and her body is soft and satisfied.

"I meant to say this sooner, but I'm sorry about the other day."

My eyebrows raise. "Are you apologizing?"

"For once, you deserve it. I shouldn't have called your house creepy. I get that you're dealing with your own stuff, and I was just frustrated with myself. I had a bad call with my friend, and—" She stops herself and takes a deep breath. I love the way her chest rises and falls, bringing her closer to me for a brief second. "I won't make excuses. I shouldn't have done it, that's all."

"I appreciate you saying that." I brush a knuckle across her cheek and instead of turning away, she leans into my touch. My heart's racing, and I swear she can feel it hammering through my shirt. "But I didn't do this because you called me creepy."

"Yeah? You didn't? Sort of felt like you did."

"I built it because you deserve your own space." I move my hand back into her thick, luscious dark hair. It's so fucking soft and I want to bury my face in it and breathe deep as I thrust hard between her legs. God damn, I am so fucking gone for this girl right now, and I don't understand why.

"That's very… weird, honestly, coming from you."

"Weird how?" I run my fingers through her hair and grip gently. She lets out a soft whimper, her eyes wide and surprised. But she doesn't try to get away.

"You come off all controlling and intense one second, and then you're building me my own rooms the next, even though I know you don't like them. You force me to sleep in your bed, but you haven't crossed any lines, and don't pretend like you don't want to."

I swallow back a groan, because she's right, there are a whole lot of lines I want to cross right about now. "I'm easing you into this," I whisper, tightening my grip on her. "Would you prefer it if I were harder on you?"

"Maybe," she says, her mouth open, and I can see her pulse going crazy in her throat, and fucking hell, that one word maybe just wrecked me for life.

I pull her hair back, tilting her chin into the air. She whimpers as I kiss her neck, peppering it from her throat to her chin, before moving toward her lips.

"You want me to get all possessive and controlling, dolcezza? Would you prefer it if I kept you chained to my bed?"

"Maybe not that far."

I bite her lower lip. "That's the game you're playing, baby. You don't want to push me." Because I've shielded her from the worst of me, but I'm on the edge of losing control and I don't know what she'll think if I let myself spiral into this desire.

"Test me." She's breathing fast and her fingers dig into my back. "You don't know what I can handle."

That finally breaks me. Whatever willpower I had left, whatever invisible barriers were keeping me from finally losing control, they're all fucking gone.

I bury her mouth with mine. I brand her with my kiss, sear her with my tongue, invade her and dominate her, holding her hair tight and pulling hard. She's whimpering and moaning into my kiss, and I'm growling like a fucking beast, because I've been hiding this ever since she came to live with me, and now all those pent-up emotions are breaking free.

"Since you're so fucking proud of your new shelves, how about I fuck you up against them?" I say as I turn her around and shove her up against the side. The whole wall rattles as I bite her neck from behind, one hand wrapped around her throat, the other yanking down her jeans.

"Here I thought you were scary," she says, which makes me pull her hair. She moans as my other hand cups her pussy and, fuck, she's dripping wet. She's been taunting and teasing me, and it worked her the hell up.

"Baby, you don't know what I am yet," I say and sink two fingers inside of her nice and deep until my palm's pressed against her ass. "But I'm going to fuck your soaking wet pussy with these fingers, and then I'm going to shove my fingers into your fucking mouth while my cock takes your lovely little pussy. When I'm finished with you, you're going to get on your knees and say thank you. Do you understand?"

She moans as I tighten my grip on her throat. I thrust my fingers in and out, her pussy slick and soaking her palm, and my cock's so hard I swear I might rip straight through my pants. I release her throat and unbuckle my belt, shimmying myself free, before pulling my fingers from inside of her. She looks over her shoulder like what the fuck, why are you stopping and I give her a nice, hard fucking spank on that lovely round ass of hers as I yank down my boxer briefs and stroke my cock.

I shove my fingers into her mouth as promised. She moans in surprise as my other hand teases her clit. I bite the back of her ear and pull her chin up, her ass pressed against my hard dick.

"Every night we go to bed together, I think about doing this to you," I whisper as my tip presses against her silky pussy. "I dream about fucking this messy little cunt until you're lying on your back twitching with ecstasy. Do you have any idea what I want to do to you, baby?"

"Show me," she moans then bites down on my fingers.

Fuck, it hurts, and it drives me absolutely wild. I sink my cock deep inside of her, bending her over more before pulling my fingers from her mouth. I use her own spit to rub against her clit as I fuck her, and she's moaning like wild, her noises like heaven, her slick, tight pussy dragging against my cock and sending bliss into my spine. I pull her hair again and sink my fingers into her mouth as I fuck her harder, ravishing her, unrelenting, and I don't know how much more I can take of this as her pussy clenches down.

"You want to come for me, don't you, baby?" I slap her ass and rub her clit as I fuck her. "Tell me you want it."

"I want to come," she groans, her cheeks bright pink. "Make me come, Davide."

"When you finish on my cock, I'm going to make you taste yourself. You're going to lick yourself off my hard dick, every single fucking drop, you filthy fucking girl. Tell me you like that."

"I love it," she moans.

"God, look at how beautiful you are." I sink myself deeper, losing my mind. "My beautiful wife. My pretty fucking wife taking my thick cock. God, you feel good."

"Davide," she hisses, back arching. I wrap my hand around her throat. "Oh my god, I'm coming."

Her body bears down as the orgasm rips through her. I hold her neck and drive myself deep, going wild with pleasure as she comes for what feels like an eternity. But as she slowly finishes, I pull back and shove her down to her knees, tilting her chin up and forcing the tip of my cock between her pretty lips.

"Lick," I command, and she does, fucking hell.

Her tongue rolls around my tip and I'm so damn close.

"Every inch," I say and grab her hair, pushing myself into her mouth.

She moans and bobs forward then back, and that's all I need. I come on my wife's tongue, her name on my lips as she keeps sucking up every drop, and when I'm finished, I drag her to her feet and kiss her slow.

"You look so fucking good with my fingers shoved in your mouth," I whisper, my forehead against hers. We're both breathing hard.

"Yeah? I thought you'd like me with your dick between my lips, but that works too."

I shower her with compliments. I can't help myself. As I clean her off and get her dressed, I tell her how beautiful she looks, how incredible she felt, how gorgeous and funny she is. And all the while, her cheeks glow pink, and she seems to grow two inches taller.

"Where'd all this come from?" she asks when I've finally got her sitting in my lap. I stroke her hair and kiss her neck.

"I'm telling you everything I've been thinking since I first shoved your panties in your mouth."

Somehow, her face flushes deeper. "Right, about that. I kind of want that underwear back. They were my favorite."

"You can have them back the next time I decide to gag you."

She laughs, but we both know I'm not kidding.