Page 31 of Obsession

Interesting. Nervousness racks my body. Nonna isn’t in on my plans. I can only imagine the displeased look on her face when she learns the truth. And Madi has no reason not to tell her that I forced her into this charade. In her mind, I’m the monster of this story.

Dropping my briefcase by the door, I head for the kitchen. I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck as I loosen my tie. As soon as I swing open the door, I’m hit with the smell of home. Madi’s smiling as she stirs a pot of sauce, and from the smell alone, I already know it’s my nonna’s Bolognese recipe. My mouth waters, and no words come out as I take in the sight of her wearing an apron and cooking in my kitchen. I could get used to this.

“Il mio ragazzo!”Nonna smiles when she sees me, dusting off her flour-covered hands and giving me a tight embrace. She pulls back and looks me over like she always does, as if she’s assessing for some kind of damage that might have happened since the last time she saw me. Sometimes I swear she can see past my outer appearance, straight into my soul.

“Nonna.” I kiss her cheek. “What are you making? It smells fantastic.”

“I’m teaching Madi all your favorites.” Her smile is warm and bright as she gestures to the counter. “Ragu alla Bolognesetonight. Madi made the noodles.”

I can tell by the excess flour on the counter. Nonna makes her way back to the stove right as a timer dings, signaling her to drain the fresh pasta. When I look back to Madi, she’s watching me, spoon stalled in the red sauce.

“Now, I think I should leave you two lovebirds alone for dinner,si?Pasta’s done, sauce is done. Can you plate everything, Madi?”

She snaps out of her stare and looks back to my nonna with a smile. “Of course. Thank you so much for teaching me.”Something warms my heart as she hugs my nonna and they share their goodbyes.

“So,” I start once my grandmother has left the kitchen. “You made me dinner?” I like seeing her like this — in an apron, looking domesticated.

Madi’s smile drops from her face, and once again, she looks at me with disdain. “No,” she says curtly, then walks over to the trash can, taking her time as she drags it across the floor to the stove. First, she takes the pot of boiled pasta, tilting and dumping the entire thing into the trash. Next, she takes the large stock pot of sauce and does the same, dumping the contents, splashes of red sauce flinging from the container and staining the cabinets as she goes.

“What are you doing?” The question comes out harshly as I watch my nonna’s cooking go to waste. It doesn’t help that my stomach was growling as soon as I smelt the sauce.

When Madi’s done, she drops the pot back onto the stove and wipes her hands on a dish towel. “Let’s be clear, you may have forced me to marry you, but I will never be yourwife.And cooking for you, that’s a very wifely thing to do. Don’t you think?” She tosses the towel onto the counter like she’s dropping the mic and moves to make her way past me.

Animal instinct takes over, or maybe it’s pure anger that she wasted all that food, but I grab her before she can pass. All my restraint must have been tossed away with the food, because my grip is tight as I slam her against the wall. Her pretty pink lips part, the air rushing from her lungs.

“What did we establish happens to little brats in this house, hmm?”

A devilish spark lights up her eyes.Fuck me.I think she likes this. I bet if I unzipped her shorts and stuck my hand into her panties, I’d find her wet again.

“What are you going to do, spank me?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

“Oh, princess, I can do much more than spank you.”

Her tongue darts out, wetting those tempting lips in a way that makes my cock ache.

“Do your worst,” she says defiantly.

In one motion, I swoop her up and over my shoulder. She yelps as I do so, her fists pounding against my back.

“Let me down, asshole!” she shouts, but it doesn’t stop me.

She wants to act like a brat? Then I’ll punish her like a brat.

I depositmy new wife on the bed, watching as she scurries backwards to get away from me. There’s no fear in her eyes, though; she’s not scared of me. She still looks angry, but now it’s mixed with something else. Excitement? Lust?

I can tell by the devilish glow in her brown eyes that she’s provoking me just to get a reaction.

“Here we are again. Bratting off just to get punished. I think you like being spanked, princess. Is that right?”

“Not at all.” She shakes her head, but I can tell from the breathiness of her words that I’m right.

I chuckle, the sound reverberating through the room. “Get undressed,” I order.

“Fuck you,” she spits back hastily.

Inhaling deeply, I slowly shrug off my suit jacket, folding it neatly over the chair. “Madi, get undressed or I’ll undress you myself.”

Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, she chews on it, watching me intently.

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