Page 7 of La Dolce Vita

"So it was her? You found her?" Renaldo asked.

"I found the bitch."

"And who is that?" Renaldo asked about the dead woman on the floor.

"Someone that got in the way," Lorenzo sighed. "She set this up. Like we thought."

"Why?" Renaldo asked.

Lorenzo’s gaze went up to his enforcer. There were few men he trusted with his life. Renaldo was one of them. But sadly he could not trust him with the truth. Isabella didn't understand his desperation. It wasn't to take anything from Giovanni. It wasn't just to be equal to Giovanni. His desperation had always been about losing the only brothers he ever had. Being raised by his evil mother had taught him one valuable lesson. Protect the ones you love, and in doing so, you protect yourself. He would find Isabella and snuff her life out. He'd convince Giovanni to give him the Mancini empire, and together they would be greater than their fathers.

"What now, Boss?" Renaldo asked.

"We don't stop. You don't stop. We find her, and we kill her."

"And this? The dead woman?" Renaldo looked over to the woman on her back, lying in her own blood.

"Giovanni doesn't need to know about this. Wrap the woman up in a sheet." Lorenzo sighed and put his face in his hand. "She's coming with us."

ChapterTwo

Residual

Capri, Italia - One Week Later

"You like it, don't you,cara?" Exalted in passionate fervor, his gruff tone held a hard edge of mocking delight. With his fist full of her curly hair he yanked. The force pulled her head back from the root. Her husband's lips brushed her temple, and his tongue licked along the outer curve of her ear.

Yes. Of course, she liked it.

The aftershock exploded in her pelvis and radiated pleasure all the way to her seizing heart. Marietta’s lashes fluttered shut, and she dug her nails into the mattress as his rock hard length, thicker than it was long, plunged deeper and deeper. Beyond protesting over his throttling, she sucked in a strained breath and held tight to her whimper. Lorenzo drilled every inch of himself in and out of her channel, slick with heat and sensitivity she felt the plunges and thrusts repeatedly. His hairy thighs forced her legs to spread into a rigid V-formation, and kept her pinned to the bed. She pushed back in desperation to take his cock deeper and control his rhythm. He loved her from behind, but it was the vaginal stress of his continued thrusting that had her switching from gasping for mercy, to writhing with pleasure. In the past, and most often, he was tender during their lovemaking. It was only when she denied him sex for longer than a few days that he became this beast.

"So good, so fucking unbelievable," he groaned and bit her ear while screwing in and out of her. His thrusts slowed as if he savored the position he forced them into. Still, he pushed down with his pelvis and drove her forward, while his penis drilled her with his short repetitive strokes.

"I need you, Marie, yeah, yeah,cara, this, need more of this, so much, so much," he panted. "Bimba, dammelo!Ummm, yes, like that too.Apri le tue gambe; sei bagnata--spread your legs; you're so wet!" he chuckled. He dropped his forehead to the back of her head and gripped the top of the mattress. His thrusting put more pressure on her, as his hands slipped underneath to grasp both of her breasts and squeeze. When he quickened his movements, she worked her ass and tried to cinch her inner walls on his invading manhood, hoping to drag him down to climatic bliss. Marietta squeezed her eyes shut and found pleasure, the sliver of it that Lorenzo offered when he swirled his hips and screwed her faster and faster.

"Mannaggia!"he shouted, and all of him went rigid behind her as she felt his searing release fill her. He collapsed. His weight wasn't the worst of it. He rolled over onto his back and smacked her ass. He reached over for his pack of forbidden cigarillos and remembered. He tossed them back to the night table.

"I love you, Marie. You love me?"

He often asked her that question after they made love. It finished him off to hear her say he was her king.

She laid still, didn't move or speak.

"Marie?" He rubbed her sweaty buttocks in a manner so soft and tender her eyelids shut. "You're so fucking beautiful, Marie. Even pregnant you're fucking beautiful. I want my wife. I need her. Are you okay? The baby?"

Now he asked about the baby? After nearly fucking her into labor?She smiled. He continued to massage her ass and the back of her thighs. Her eyes opened again. She reached over and touched his face. She leaned in and kissed his lips. "I love you. You know you're my king, honey," she said in a bland tone that made his brows lift with concern.

"You haven't let me touch you in eight days. I missed you so bad. It's not my fault I lost control." He turned his face to kiss her palm. Lorenzo pulled her over to him and put her against his chest. Marietta broke. The tears flowed. Not from the rough sex. That happened between them at times. She cried for the fear she carried in her heart. The fear she had for her sister. She held on to him and let her sorrow go. He caressed her back and tried to calm her. To be wrapped up in his arms was the best part of the sex they shared. Just having him hold her. She wished she could return his passion. She wished she didn't have so many doubts. But the pregnancy and the past few weeks had left her confused, depressed, angry, and worst of all afraid. They fought more. She fretted more.

He kissed her before he turned over to leave the bed. "No," she pleaded.

"I'll be right back," he said.

With great reluctance, she accepted his departure from her arms and turned over to hold herself with her hand to the soft swell of her baby. She closed her eyes. Still, her tears wouldn't stop. So she grabbed his pillow and hugged it to her. She buried her face into the downy softness and inhaled his cologne and sweat. There was water running behind her. She could hear the jets. The large circular spa tub was to the left of the room and was surrounded at every angle by tall windows. While a person soaked in its waters they could gaze out to the ocean and the islands in the distance. Lorenzo returned. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. He put her into the tepid waters. She was grateful for the care when he eased in with her. He soothed her. He washed the parts of her he could reach. He rubbed the swell of her belly where life was growing, and from their reflections in the window, she could see him smiling. He was so excited to be a father. He touched her belly often.

They didn't talk.

They didn't have to.

---