Page 78 of Vengeful Vows
“I’ll kill anyone who touches you.”
I shudder.God almighty.He means it.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Nico.”
“And later tonight? I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.”
I’m afraid his warning might have come too late.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Nico
I can’t get enoughof my wife even on days where I work a ridiculous number of hours. Maybe especially then.
I enter the penthouse.
Though all the lights are on, I don’t see Bella. I know she’s here though. Antonio confirmed that he walked her to the door, and her tracking app shows that she has not left.
I loosen my tie on my way to the bedroom. Then I drop it and my jacket on a chair in my closet.
Dance music blasts from the speakers in the bathroom, luring me in that direction.
My beautiful little flower is in the bathtub, her head tipped back, and a combination of bubbles and water are up to her chin.
As I look at her, my dick hardens.
Since I met her, I’ve been in a frustrating state of heightened arousal.
At one time, Matteo accused me of being led around by my dick. Every day it becomes truer.
As if aware she’s being watched, she opens her eyes.
Gasping, she sits up, bringing her torso out of the water.
After instructing the whole-house computer to turn down the volume on the music, I stride toward her, then crouch next to the tub. “Hello, wife,” I murmur, dragging a thumbnail over one of her nipples.
Pursing her lips, she scoots away from me.
“Don’t,” I command.
Since our wedding more than a couple of weeks ago, sex between us has been good. Spectacular even.
At family dinners, she’s cordial, and I know my aunt adores her.
But at all other times, Bella is remote and unapproachable. The moment physical intimacy ends between us, she washes the traces of me from her body and keeps as much distance between us as possible. Though she sleeps in our bed, she’ll occasionally wedge a pillow between us to keep me away.
My wife has closed herself in a shell that I cannot penetrate. I’m frustrated, on edge. “Offer that breast to me again,” I demand, harsher than I intended.
She doesn’t meet my gaze.
“It wasn’t a suggestion.”
With a drawn-out sigh, she arches her back.
This time, I clamp my hand onto her breast and squeeze my fingers into the soft flesh. I hate how much she struggles not to admit she craves me. Every time we come together, it takes her minutes to start responding to me, and she seems to only do so out of a sense of duty.