I take a sip of orange juice. “I like helping her. It’s better than just sitting alone at home.”
I’ve thrown myself into work so that I don’t ruminate too much on Rafaele’s absences. He’s always gone during the day. At night, he returns to our bed late enough that we only have time for one thing.
The sex is good. More than good. My husband seems to have made it his mission to learn every subtle nuance of my body. Even on nights when he appears exhausted, he’s never too tired to make me come. Never too drained to spread my thighs and feast on me until I see stars.
There’s one problem though. He won’t talk to me. Not really.
I’ve given up asking him about work on the days he seems distracted. He refuses to open up to me about whatever is bothering him. But even on days he seems okay, as soon as the conversation veers past small talk, he shuts down. He distracts me with his kisses and his body and keeps me at a distance I don’t know how to bridge.
Rafaele’s expression softens. “I’ve been gone a lot.”
I study his handsome face. Papà told me Rafaele doesn’t feel emotions, but that’s not true. He feels, but he keeps every one of those feelings inside. Hidden from everyone. Me included. Sadness pangs through me, even though it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be so bothered by this…this…lack of emotional intimacy.
I have a husband who treats me well and who fucks me well. He’s letting me work. He’s letting me do whatever I want as long as I obey a few rules that I don’t even mind anymore. This is more than I ever could have hoped for when it comes to this marriage. I should be happy with the hand I’ve been dealt. But there’s something in me, something I don’t fully understand, that longs for more.
“You’re here now.” I smile. “So what are you planning on doing all day?”
His gaze sparks. “You.”
I arch a brow. “Oh? Bold of you to assume I’ll clear my calendar for that.”
A small smirk unfurls across his lips. He stands up and walks around the table until he’s behind my chair. His hands fall to my shoulders and begin to knead them. “What will it take, tesoro, for you to make some time for me?”
“Hmm.” Damn, that feels good. My eyes flutter closed. “It’s morning, so it’s too early to be wined and dined.”
He applies more pleasure, working a low moan out of me.
“Maybe a gift,” I breathe.
His lips brush against the shell of my ear. “How fortuitous. I already bought you a gift.” He nips on my earlobe with his teeth. “I think you’ll like it a lot.”
A frisson of excitement runs down my spine. “What is it?”
He straightens back up and pulls out my chair. “Come.”
I leave my breakfast untouched and follow him to his office. Once inside, he closes the door and locks it.
“Take off your panties,” he commands as he walks over to his desk.
I arch a brow. “Shouldn’t I get the gift first?”
He throws me a heated glance. “You’ll get it in a moment. Take off your underwear, tesoro.”
This man. So bossy. I reach under my dress and shimmy out of my underwear under his watchful gaze.
When they’re off, he nods with approval. “Good. Remember the first time I made you come in this room?”
“How could I not?”
His lips quirk. He pats the surface of his desk. “Come here and bend over just like then.”
My core clenches. What is he planning? Some kind of reenactment? And where is my damn gift?
I huff an annoyed breath but do as he says, coming to his side of the desk and lowering onto my forearms.
His knuckles lightly brush against the back of one thigh as he lifts up the skirt of my dress. “So wet already,” he murmurs, dragging a finger through my folds.
My lips part on a gasp, and my back arches in response to his touch. “Is the gift an orgasm? I feel like that’s cheating.”
His fingers disappear. “It’s not an orgasm. You’re very impatient.”
“Yes. You should know this by now.”
He makes a low chuckle. “Today you’ll get a chance to work on that particular skill.”
What?
“Stay there. Just like that,” he says in a low voice.
I hear a drawer open and then close. Now I’m really curious. I try to look over my shoulder, but a hand appears around my neck, preventing me from moving.
Something slick and cool rolls down the crevice of my ass.
I gasp. “What is that?”