Page 85 of His Vicious Vow
Ending the call I consider what she told me about Carlo, my mother, and some unknown threat from so many years ago. This is what Tony meant when he said it wasn’t safe out in the world on my own. I need to buy Tony a bottle of his favorite scotch for talking me into going to Carlo’s house that day instead of running.
I go into the nursery to study the mural I’m working on. After Sandro bluntly said he hated the yellow and green nursery I decorated before we found out we’re having a girl he had me questioning my own thoughts on it. All the advice said general neutral was best, yellows, greens, grays, and tans were touted as the way to decorate.
When I tried to explain Sandro scoffed and said if when our daughter could speak for herself and said she wanted a blue room, purple, or covered in diamonds she would get anything she asked for. Until then pink wasn’t going to destroy her psyche to fit an ideal. What would, would be us sticking them in a room devoid of any personality. Sometimes people discovered what they wanted only when they realized what they didn’t want.
I relented with a new worry of how badly was he going to spoil our kids. With a tiny part of me loving he wanted to give them everything they want. I had the walls painted white again until I could figure out what I wanted to do with the new blank canvas. On one wall I’m doing a mural inspired by Sailor Moon but it won’t have Sailor or any other characters on the wall. There were enough stars, and moons in various stages of shades, and cherry blossom that a person would know where it came from. I also weaved in some full blossoming tea roses in reds, pinks, and purples.
There’s a whisper of air in warning before I’m swept up in Sandro’s arms. He takes me to the nursing rocker chair, an extremely comfortable velvet chair and sits down with me in his lap. “Talk to me, my dear wife. Your frown is far too deep in your forehead.”
“I don’t want to do anything. And I feel so guilty.” The words escape me. I’m holding my breath waiting for his censure.
A hand goes into my hair and forcing my eyes to his. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Ever.”
“But everyone else wants to do something, be a doctor, a teacher. I don’t even want to do my art anymore when I think of doing it for sale. It feels wrong. Like I’m letting you down or not being a good role model for our kids…”
“Piccolina, not everyone is rushing out into the world with grand ambitions. I would say there are many people who would prefer to have nothing more demanding in their day than to figure out what they want to eat. You have had to take care of yourself and hustle for money since you were fifteen years old. Some might say seven years is nothing, barely a blink of an eye. At fifteen you should have had to worry about passing a test and dealing with peer pressure and that’s it. Not how to get as much work as you could to get things you wanted and needed. Sustained pressure for so long can break the will of anyone to keep going, even doing what they loved before.” He presses a kiss to my cheek.
Ruth was right. Damn she is going to use this against me in the next five session for sure. If I had shared this with him more than a month ago the way she told me to when I first admitted to her, I would have saved myself so much anxiety. I am so fucking lucky. Yet I don’t dare open my mouth to tell him in case I burst into tears.
“You are about to have the most important responsibility there is. Enjoy your peace and time for yourself. If there is something you want to do for you, whether it’s two months from now, two years, or twenty then I’ll do whatever it takes to give you the time and freedom to do it. And if you never do anything more make the decision of what we’re having for dinner, as long as your happy so am I.”
Words are stuck in my throat, all I can do is pull him and kiss him all the that has only grown stronger with every day.
CHAPTER 32
Carina
It’s happened. I cannot stand the idea of getting dressed to go out to the fundraiser thing tomorrow night. I’m now at twenty-nine weeks or in normal person speak seven months. Once again being short sucks because I look like I’m ready to pop any day.
Of course it’s only after spending last week with an amazing seamstress Sandro hired to make new formal dresses for events on the schedule for the next month. These clothes are beautiful. Yet standing here in my favorite one, having to decide between stockings, hose, or nothing at all, wondering if I’m wearing the right bra or if another would keep me from looking like a size G.
And my ass is huge, which Sandro adores. Shaking my head I can’t help smiling. I understand why women freak out when everything expands. But I haven’t had a moment of fear I’m getting too big because Sandro apologized the other day for not being able to keep his hands off me.
We were having lunch together when he asked for the dessert of my pussy. As he helped me off the table I winced at my back protesting against the hard surface. He was insistent I tell him if I’m not in the mood. Which I found hilarious. If it weren’t for him having to work the twice a day we make love would be a minimum of four, maybe in five times. His relief was so sweet, I pulled his cock from his pants and rode him until we were both exhausted.
“I love the dress. You’re gorgeous.”
Turning I find Sandro in the open doorway of the walk in closet. I flash a weak smile. “I do too. It’s why I’m sad that I can’t do it. I don’t have it in me to get all dressed up and smile and pretend I’m not uncomfortable.”
I blink and he’s in front of me, his hand in my hair pulling me up to meet his eye. “Then you won’t. Natasha can come with me and I’ll figure out which ones I don’t need to go to at all.”
Using his tie, I bring him down for a kiss. “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips when there is finally air in my lungs.
He shakes his head and pulls back to his full height. “From now on you decide when we make love.”
I’m stung. “Why?’
Grabbing the hand around his tie he brings it to his hard cock. “This is why. I’m like this nearly every time you’re close. I never want you to feel like making love is something you have to do.”
I’ve become adept at getting his cock out with one hand and grip his hard cock tight and stroke. “If I have my way, you’re never going to leave the penthouse. It’s been weeks since we spent all day naked in bed with you inside me for hours.”
“Christ woman, I’m trying to be understanding here. The last time we spent all day in bed I didn’t take care of you and you were dehydrated with leg cramps.” He closes his eyes as I use the precome dripping from the tip to more easily jack his cock.
“I will drink a gallon of water this time, I promise.” I try to go down on my knees, Sandro grabs me lifting me into his arms he carries me to bed.
The man is magic, my dress is unzipped by the time he sets me down. My dress is tugged down and trailed off. His kiss to my stomach is so gentle I can barely stand it. My hands go into his hair to bring his mouth up to mine.
His hands go around my wrists, guiding them to his shirt while he pushes off his suit jacket. I manage to get the shirt unbuttoned while he tugs his tie down and off. He stands so he can finish getting undressed. I roll onto my hands and knees.