Page 47 of Isle of Seduction

She rolls her eyes, and the temptation to tan her ass is on the tips of my fingers. She stands and walks under the spray, and for the first time, she seems self-conscious, turning to watch me over her shoulder. “Can you leave?”

“Not a chance, guerrieritta.”

I take the shower gel that smells like vanilla again and smile at the name, “Vanilla Sex” by Tom Ford. Fitting. I dispense some gel onto my hands and close the short distance that separates our bodies. She looks at me warily, a deep frown settled on her soft face.

“May I?”

Her arms fall on each side of her body, and she gives me the slightest nod. I lather her body with soap, caressing each curve reverently, getting on my knees to cover her legs and lifting each foot on my bent knee, making sure to massage each limb and prove to her with my hands what I can’t say with my words.

One thing I’ve noticed about my little wife is that battle is her favourite mode of expression, probably because none other was available to her before. I’ll show her every day she can get whatever she needs from me without even asking. Except my cock, of course.

I continue until every space of her delicious body is lathered with suds, then stand up and press her under the water, watching my cum getting washed away. My chest tightens at seeing the remnants of my mark on her fade into nothing. It makes me want to do it again until her skin smells like me, until she knows my existence is burrowed deep into every cell and every drop of blood like she’s infected mine.

When she’s dry and ready for bed, I climb into her bed behind her and hold her to my chest, gliding a leg in between hers. I need every inch of my front to touch her skin and melt against her body until we’re only one. It’s a sensation I’m unfamiliar with, but it’s not unpleasant. Everyone around me has been hurt because of me. Giulia won’t end up the same way. She’ll be the one I protect at all costs. She’ll be the one that gets out of here unscathed.

“What are you doing?” she asks. “I thought you didn’t sleep.”

“Sometimes I do, and I want to hold you while you do.”

“Andrea, you’re breaking all the rules,” she says into the dark, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Shhh. Don’t fight, guerrieritta.”

She gives a little snort that I find fucking adorable and falls asleep immediately, her soft breaths lulling me to sleep better than any pill ever has. For the first time in years, I wake up six hours later, the longest night I’ve ever had. All I want is to sink into my wife’s pussy again and burrow under her skin. I refrain and take my place on the club seat, watching her sleep until late in the morning.

TWENTY

SLEEVELESS TEE-SHIRTS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL

Stepping back into my snarky personality feels like putting on an old piece of clothing you know and love. It’s familiar and comfortable. More comfortable than what happened with Andrea last night. The tension between us is thick in the air.

I know we’re inevitable, especially now that I’ve allowed him to touch me. But if I let myself go, I might repeat the same mistakes from the past and give to someone who doesn’t deserve it, just to be broken and discarded like a toy he doesn’t want to play with anymore. I won’t ever be at the mercy of someone else again. He said he needed a partner and that I’d try, but I’m still unsure.

I’m at the Rouge construction site when the rumbling noise of a bike has my attention shifting and I walk outside, my orange helmet firmly in place on my red mane. Cold November rain patters on the roof, the dark clouds above making the morning feel like early evening.

Andrea’s parking when I come out, his leather jacket looking like armour, and I resist the itch to reach for him. His hair is in a bun again and I want nothing more than to untie it and run my fingers through it like I did last night. He doesn’t look like a politician, but I’m sure it’s part of what’s going to endear a lot of voters to him. That and the fact that he actually does a lot of good for his community. I’ve seen his program, it’s focused on education and accessibility. Just like what he’s been doing for the past decade.

He walks to me with purpose, his expression unreadable, and I wonder what he’s doing here. Rouge isn’t on his road to and from his office in the city.

A white van with a name I don’t recognise on it parks next to his bike. A burly man all dressed in denim comes out and joins us.

“Giulia, this is Mitch. He used to work for my dad’s construction company before it passed onto me, then left to start his own business. Mitch specialises in stained glass and I thought I’d introduce you two.”

A calloused hand shakes mine vigorously, while I just watch with my mouth hanging open.

“Andrea tells me you want dark and erotic stained-glass windows for your club. I haven’t seen what it looks like inside, but I brought a few concepts with me. Do you mind showing me around, ma’am?”

I shake myself out of it and show him my best smile.

“Of course, why don’t you go ahead? I’ll be right with you.” I turn to the most annoying man on Earth. “What are you doing, O baullo? I can do everything by myself.”

His hands frame my face, his expression soft and open.

“When will you learn that you don’t have to?”

He kisses the top of my head and simply walks inside the club, like he didn’t just shake my very core with giving me help I desperately needed without me asking, or fighting for it.

I know what he’s doing.

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