Page 56 of Princess of the Mafia

Did she read my intentions? She must have. That was the only reason she muttered the next words begrudgingly.“Husband.”

“That’s right, Principessa. Remember that every time you take a fucking breath because this…” I took her finger and touched her breast and my chest, “is forever. Now, what do you want to study?”

“Ugh.” Confusion painted her face.

“You said you want to study, so what do you want to study?”

She studied me with skepticism in her eyes. “I don’t know…”

“Think about it. Do some research. If you want to visit some colleges, we can do that, sì?”

“You’re really going to allow me to study something, or what?”

“Didn’t I just say so?”

She grabbed my thighs and leaned forward. “Can I stay in a dorm?”

“Fuck, no,” I said gruffly. “My men will bring you and follow you everywhere, but you can study.”

“But I want to go alone.”

Fuck if she wasn’t cute when she pouted. I might have said yes to anything else, but not this. “Don’t push me in this, Daria, or you aren’t going to college either.”

“Well, I want one more thing.” She leaned back, put her hands on the stool, and smiled sweetly.

Fuck. A smirk lit on my lips. My wife was a fucking brat. And a vamp. For an innocent, she’d got her seduction down to a tee. Her crotch pushed down on my thighs, too close to my dick. I let out a harsh laugh. "I just told you that you can study whatever the hell you want, and you want one more thing?"

“Sí.” She wiggled on her stool, shifting closer to my heat. “You know, just to prove you mean it.” She counted each point with her fingers. “I can’t get a divorce…” I growled. “Can’t go out alone…” My teeth clenched. “Can I wear what I want?”

My eyes trailed the skimpy thing she had on her. Something that wrapped her breast tightly and flowered below it, ending up at least a full hand above her knee. I put my hand on her thigh. Yes. A full fucking hand.

“Does your Mamma allow you to wear this shit?”

She jutted out her chin. “Mamma isn’t here.”

So if her mother didn’t allow her to wear this, how did she sneak it in? I followed the movement of her breasts as she breathed. “So who got you this shit, then?”

“My friend, Luna. You don’t know her.”

If I did, I might have throttled her with my bare hands. The fabric was like a t-shirt. It wrapped around her breasts like a fucking second skin. I swallowed.

“Don’t you like my style?” she asked with an innocent smile.

Her style? She looked like a damn sex invitation. I wanted to say yes, she could wear whatever she wanted to. I wanted to give her that. But the thought of that damn soldati’s eyes on her was too fresh in my mind and I just couldn’t. “I can’t, Principessa,” I grated. “Give me some time, sì?”

Disappointment sighed out of her body. “I was just going to buy a shit load of clothes.”

I didn’t know what made me say the next words. Whether it was the look on her face or the masochist in me but, “You can wear them when I am with you,” rumbled out of me with no logical thought. Fuck!

She smiled. “Yeah? Cool, I thought I’d have to cancel shopping.”

Unease rattled my nerves and brought me back to the reason I’d stepped into the kitchen. “Who are you going shopping with?”

“Emily.” Her voice was weak, her eyes on the floor, like she knew I wouldn’t like her fucking answer. Damn right, I didn’t.

I gripped her bare thighs. “I told you to lose her number.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I didn’t listen.”

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