Page 50 of Forced Arrangement

She laughs and waves a hand. “I know, sorry. It’s just, being in here…” she gestures around the kitchen with a moue of distaste.

I nod, since I myself have been struggling to spend any time in the kitchen at all since last night.

“Let’s go sit in here,” Angelo says, grabbing the bottle and leading the way over to the formal living room. He turns on the gas fireplace and settles into one of the leather chairs near it. He grabs my wrist as I get closer to him and tugs me into his lap. I spill into it in a swath of heavy lace, giving a little squeak as I land.

I wriggle a little and grin. He’s already hard for me.

Justine eyes us speculatively, but just sips at her drink. She turns to look at the fire, her beautiful profile lit with the orange glow.

“Is it ever safe?” she asks abruptly, pressing the glass to her lips as she stares into the flames. “I mean for people like you two. Is it evernotdangerous?”

Angelo sighs, rubbing a hand over my back. I resist the urge to purr like a cat at his touch.

“This is not normal, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replies. “But it’s never actually totally safe, I suppose. That’s why we have guards, security and all the rest.” He gestures around the room vaguely with his free hand.

“What about when you have kids?” she asks, and my heart squeezes in my chest. I know she won’t tell Angelo our secret, not without permission, but this feels too close for comfort.

Angelo is silent for a moment, also looking at the flames. “I suppose I hadn’t ever thought I would have children,” he finally admits. “But if we do have children, we will do our best to keep them safe. Just like your parents did their best to keep you safe,” he says to me.

I crane my head to look at his handsome face and I see the sincerity in his gaze. He means that, and I relax some. He might not know that we are going to be having a baby, but I can hear and see the sincerity in him now, talking about children we might have.

Justine nods. “That’s all anyone can do, I guess.”

“Do you want to go home now?” Angelo asks her without looking at her. He’s still looking at me, drinking me in. The air between us changes, filling with sexual tension. I feel him lift his hips slightly, nudging his hard-on against me where it’s disguised by the fall of my wedding dress.

Justine glances over at us, then smiles a little. “I haven’t decided yet,” she says, rising to her feet. “However, I know when I’ve worn out my welcome.” She waggles her fingers at us before walking toward the elevator. She drops her glass off in the kitchen on the way by, then gets into the elevator and leaves us alone.

“So,” Angelo says to me, adjusting my weight on his lap. “What shall we do with our evening?

I giggle and roll my eyes. “Oh, fuck off,” I tell him. “You know I’ve been dying to have you rip this dress off me and fuck me senseless since the ceremony.”

His laugh is loud and full, and it warms my heart to hear his joy. I have realized just how fleeting happiness can be in our world and I don’t want to waste a drop of it.

“As ever, Sophia Agostini, your wish is my command.”

Chapter Seventeen

Angelo

I feel drunk on her. She floods my senses, makes it hard to think about the family, our safety, the future, anything but the here and now. I am desperate to get her out of the heavy, silk dress, my fingers fumbling as I try to manage the tiny buttons that march down the back.

“Why do they make these things like this?” I mutter in annoyance, as I work my way down the row of buttons. My injured hand is not helping me at all. “This is ridiculous.” My cock throbs with the same frustration that I’m feeling.

She laughs, the sound musical, carefree, as she cranes to look over her shoulder. She’s holding her long, heavy hair out of the way so that I can struggle without also having to deal with her hair hanging down her back.

“I suspect it’s tradition to torture the groom in as many ways as possible,” she says with another giggle.

I grumble a little, but smile. “It’s working,” I say. I sigh with relief as I finally get the last button free.

“Phew!” she says, wriggling out of the heavy dress. I watch in appreciation as her lithe body wiggles in front of me, sending the dress to pool around her ankles. “That thing is heavy.”

“You looked beautiful in it,” I say honestly, reaching out to trail my fingers down her back. Her skin is soft and she smells amazing. I should find out what perfume she wears so I can be sure that she has plenty of it on hand.

“Thank you,” she says, looking back at me again before turning and starting to take off all of her undergarments. “Justine did a great job pulling all of this together at the last moment.”

“She’s a wizard with planning these things,” I agree, licking my lips as I watch her take off her bra. Her breasts, which are the perfect handful, bounce free of the garment. I immediately give in to temptation and cup them in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples. She stretches like a cat, pressing into my touch.

“Are you happy to be Mrs. Castiglia?” I ask her. I try not to let her know how much it means to me to have her be happy as my wife. We have never talked about our feelings with each other in any depth. There hasn’t been time. I hate to contemplate finding out that she feels like this relationship is a prison.

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