Page 33 of La Dolce Vita

" Grazie," she said and went inside.

The silent darkness greeted her. She felt comfortable in his space.No. Not comfortable.She felt safe there. The door to his office was open. It was the first place she checked. She had put an large leather sofa big enough to sleep a giant in his office. Most nights he camped out there. Tonight, of course, she found the room empty. The hour was late. The last she checked it was closer to three in the morning. He had to have gone to bed. Possibly after drinking. When she looked around, she found no evidence of alcohol. The liquor cabinet appeared to be locked. There were no empty glasses left out. Though Mirabella appreciated the change of his habits, she had to admit that since her return to him, he hadn't taken a drop of alcohol in her presence. It wasn't like him not to have a glass of wine with dinner, and whiskey and a cigar for desert. She wasn't sure what that meant about Giovanni.

The villa was small. Not many rooms or much space on the lower level. Even after renovations to his office. However, she made his room upstairs the most comfortable. She left the room and closed the door. She then climbed the stairs in the dark. She found him in his bedroom. He was on his back. He had his shirt open and trousers still on. He hadn't even bothered to undress. His arm was thrown over his face. His gun lay next to him.

Mirabella leaned inside the frame of the door and stared at him. Should she let him sleep or wake him?

"Gio?" she said. Giovanni didn't stir. When they slept together, he kept moving through the night, reaching for her, touching her. She thought he was just a restless sleeper. Watching him now, she realized his restlessness always came when he was consumed with her. And she felt the same. Mirabella removed her robe. She tossed it on the floor. She walked over to the bed and crawled over the mattress to him. He immediately woke and reached for his gun. His gaze could barely be seen through his sleepy stare.

"It's just me," she whispered.

"Bella,”he replied softly.

"That's right, honey. I'm still your Bella," she kissed his hand, and he released his hold on his gun. Then she gently removed it from his reach. She leaned over and set it aside on the night table. He still wore a look of bewilderment on his face, but he didn't push her away. She took that as a good sign.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Another nightmare?"

"Yes. It was about loneliness this time. You came home after two days away, and you didn't wake me. You came here. You know better," she said. Before he could respond, she pressed her lips to his and silenced him with a kiss. She pressed down hard against his chest to keep him from lifting. Thanks to his unbuttoned shirt, she could feel the warmth of his skin and the rapid beating of his heart. Her lips left his. He stared up at her with his jeweled eyes, and she felt a burning desire, an aching need for another kiss.

"Remember the first time you kissed me atVilla Melzi d'Eril?"

He nodded his head yes.

"Then kiss me like that again."

His hand reached and he touched the side of her face. His fingers slipped around her nape, and he drew her mouth down to his. She had parted her lips before theirs met. Giovanni bypassed the warm up and went right in. His tongue eased in between her parted lips and swept over hers. A kiss from the Don required complete surrender, however, as his chosen woman she knew he expected a bit of resistance. And that’s what she gave him. The passion ebbed and flamed, distinctly fueled by the absolute power of his kiss. Every nerve in Mirabella’s sex weakened when his hands slid down her back, and each palm cupped, squeezed, and separated her buttocks. And then came her complete surrender. He rolled her to her back. She hooked a leg around his waist. Giovanni rubbed the bone of his erection against the lips of her vagina, and she could feel his desire bulk. His tongue stopped moving. He lifted his face and looked down at her, and she saw the conflict in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Mirabella knew he remembered the way they were before. But he couldn't seem to forget how they were now. It was Kei's curse. That demon had crawled into her head and wanted her to mistrust even the slightest thing he said or did in her marriage.

"Why don't you talk to me, Bella? Tell me about the dream. I can help."

"Make love to me," she pleaded.

He looked down at her body like a man who had been denied dinner. She grabbed the back of his head and brought his mouth forcefully down to her nipple. He traced his tongue around the circumference of her areola before swallowing and sucking as much of her breast that he could bring into his mouth. Giovanni released her nipple with a smacking pop then went in for the other.

“Yes, oh, yes,” she breathed.

He paused again. He lifted up from her body with his hands as if he were doing pushups. "Wait," he began and squeezed his eyes shut to regain control.

"Mi sento meglio di ieri--I feel better than yesterday." She said. She gripped his back to pull him down. She lifted her head off the pillow and licked under his neck. When that didn't work, she slipped her hand between their bodies, past his belt, and into his underwear to clasp his erection. "I’m fine. I’m your wife. Stop thinking the worst when I just miss you."

"Are you sure?" he breathed.

She stroked his length. "Yeah, of course, now fuck me."

"That's enough," he grabbed her hand. "I don't need you to prove your love to me through sex, Bella."

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Proving my love?"

"No. Yes. No. I think I'm the one not worthy. Never you," he said.

"That's so poetic, Gio," she smiled. "You a poet now? Huh?" she teased.

He shook his head with a sly smile.

"You think I need you to be delicate and sweet? I need you to invite me into bed? To seduce me? Do you?"

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