Page 53 of (UN)Bounded

“I’m just trying to say that before you, he used to be around women who wanted to be with him for his money and influence. Since you arrived, he’s been more relaxed. It’s a Mr. Godoy we didn’t know before. I think you have brought out the best in him.”

“Awww, Rocco. You’re happy for your boss? That’s such a nice thing to say. I’ve never been happier in my life, and I feel Gabo has been a great influence on me, as well. So I’m glad we bring out the best in each other.” He nods, then goes back to his burly stance—the bodyguard is back.

We enter the small store, and I look up the recipe I want to create on my phone: flower vanilla berry cake. I get fresh vanilla beans, acai berries, wild violets, borage, and mint leaves. The lady who owns the store packs me a loaf of bread for free, saying Gabo and I need to eat healthier. I chuckle at her way of saying we’re too skinny, but thank her and leave a few extra Euro bills on the counter as she gives a sweet treat to Rocco.

“This looks delicious. What’s the occasion?” Gabo asks as he gives me a kiss after coming home.

“I just felt like making a yummy dessert to go along with the nice dinner the chef had prepared for us,” I tell him as I plate our food, and he opens a bottle of wine. I finally learned Gabo’s secret to always having the fridge stocked with cut fruit and ready-to-eat meals: he has a chef who comes twice a week.

“Do you remember the project I’m working on?” he asks as I take a bite of the delicious pasta we’re having.

“The palace? How can I forget? I still can’t believe you’re designing one. It feels so royal,” I tell him with dreamy eyes, and he chuckles.

“That’s the one. I need to go to the Emirates tomorrow and see the area where the sheikh wants it built. One thing is seeing pictures; another is being there, feeling the wind on my fac, you know?”

“I definitely know. That’s how I am sometimes when creating a new piece; I need to get inspiration from the source. Sometimes pictures and videos aren’t enough,” I tell him, and he smiles brightly. I love how we both take our art so seriously.

“Do you think you can come with me?” he asks, and my immediate response is to get giddy about it.

“Perfect, we’ll take the jet after breakfast, and we’ll come back after dinner,” Gabo says, joy radiating from him.

“Oh, wait. I’m planning a meet-and-greet with young artists tomorrow. Long story, but Giacomo approached me today.” The moment I say his name, Gabo goes rigid. “Relax, G. He just wanted to apologize for the way he behaved,” I say, and Gabo releases a breath.

“And you told him you’re with me?” I chuckle at his possessiveness and roll my eyes.

“No, G, he noticed that himself. But if I had felt there was a need to mention you, I would have.” I wink at him, and now it’s his turn to chuckle. “Anyways, he mentioned he had contacted a few artists who would be interested in being part of my gallery, so I need to meet with them. I actually called the PR department of Godoy Construzione today, and Francesca set up a space and refreshments already,” I tell him as I start playing with my food. My appetite is ruined now that the excitement over traveling with him is gone.

“It’s alright, principessa. I love that your plan is starting to take shape. There will be more opportunities for you to go with me and see the Emirates. Maybe we’ll be invited to the palace inauguration.” I swoon at his thoughtfulness. He truly is my biggest cheerleader.

“You’re right, there will be more chances later on,” I tell him, and we continue to enjoy our meal in comfortable silence. When it’s time to have dessert, Gabo grabs the cake and offers me his hand.

“I have an idea. Come with me.”

I follow him, curious to see what he has in mind. We go to the terrace, enjoying another beautiful summer night. The little garden Gabo has out here is in full bloom.

“Undress,” he says in a low voice, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Excuse me?” I ask with a hand on my waist to add sass.

“You heard me, Bella. Undress.”

“Why are you so bossy all of a sudden? At least ask nicely.” He rolls his eyes, clearly frustrated I’m not following his game, and I chuckle internally.

“I want to eat this delicious cake off of you. Undress. I won’t ask again.”

His words are cold, and they should upset me, but the rush of desire that goes through my core is undeniable. I start undressing as he commanded. I remove my shoes, then unzip my dress and let it pool down by my feet. I’m not wearing a bra, which earns me a disapproving glare, and I giggle.

“Do you think that’s funny, Bella? Those tits are mine. Just the thought of any asshole on the street ogling those perfect tits has my blood boiling.” He grunts; he looks so funny when he’s upset. But I refrain from laughing—I need to use my words instead.

“Good thing no one saw them, only you.” He pulls me to him and leans down to suck and lick at my breast. Then, one of his hands finds my pussy, and he starts playing with my clit through the flimsy lace thong.

“Weren’t you going to eat cake?” I ask in a breathy tone, and he releases my nipple with a pop, which only makes me hungrier for him.

“Those peaks were calling me. Who knew that being a possessive ass would turn you on.” He gets some of the cake frosting on his finger and paints my breasts with it, going back to his delicious torture of licking and sucking.

When my knees start bending because his attention to my breasts and clit has me weak, he lays me down on the couch where he was sitting.

“I got you, Bella.” I know he does; he’s been an amazing influence in my life, not only supporting my dreams but also showing me how a loving relationship can be.

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