“We all do, dolcezza. I cannot change what’s happened, the way I’ve spoken to you or not spoken to you, but I’m here now. Let’s start again, yeah?”
Her eyes widen as her lips part. She struggles against my grip, but I keep her close to me, refusing to let her go.
“Start again?” she hisses. “How? How do we do that? You’ve hurt me in ways that I never dreamed possible. You’ve drawn me in, you’ve pushed me away, you’ve acted as though you gave a shit, then you’ve said cruel things to me. You asked me for a divorce.”
“I know,” I say with a sharp nod.
Her eyes well with tears. “How do we move past all of that?”
Releasing my grip on her hair, I cup her jaw, then use the pad of my thumb to wipe her falling tears away from her cheek.
“We just do, dolcezza. I’m out. You’re mine and that’s just the way it is. You can accept it or fight me on it, but the outcome will be the same no matter what you do.”
She tries to pull away from me, again, and yet again, I don’t let her. I shake my head, my eyes focused on hers as I continue to gently wipe her tears away.
“You’re angry. I am too. We can’t continue to live in that anger, we’ll just be goddamn miserable.”
She snorts. “I like how I need to get over things when you’re ready to move on. But when you’re not, when you live in your moods, I have to just accept it,” she grinds out.
My lips twitch and my chin jerks down as I dip my head, shifting it to the side as I touch my lips to hers. I taste the wine from earlier mixed with the saltiness of her tears. It should be a turnoff, my wife crying in my arms, but it’s not.
Sliding my hand from its place against her lower back, I gently grab a handful of her ass. It’s smaller but no less appealing.
Gripping the fabric of her dress, I hitch it up to her waist. I groan at the feel of her soft bare skin when my hand finds its way to her ass again.
Slipping my tongue inside of her mouth, I taste all of her. My cock strains against the zipper of my pants. It’s not just because I haven’t been laid in five years, but also because I’ve been thinking of fucking no one but my wife for five years and I’ve missed all of her.
I’m missed every goddamn inch of her.
Chapter Thirty-One
PIPPA
I want him inside of my body like I’ve never wanted anything before. It’s not just a desire, it’s a downright need. I ache like I’ve never ached before.
The past five years I’ve needed to release the tension my body held. I’ve used several different toys to do just that, but I’ve never felt an overwhelming desire quite like this.
“Massimo,” I whisper against his lips.
He grunts then releases me as he takes a step backward, his breathing coming out in quick pants. Lifting my gaze to meet his, I lick my swollen lips as I watch him, wishing that his hands were still on me.
“Massimo?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t, not in here,” he rumbles.
Looking over my shoulder, then around the rest of the room, I eventually shift my gaze back to meet his.
“Why not in here?”
“The first time should be in a bed, should be better,” he grumbles through gritted teeth as if he’s in pain.
My eyes flick down to his bulging pants, then my lips twitch into a smile as I shift my eyes back up to meet his. “Are you trying to be romantic?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
Without another word, I turn from him, my skirt still around my waist. I walk toward the staircase, making my way directly to our bedroom and don’t look behind me to see if he’s following—I know that he is.
My anger has started to slowly disappear, I don’t know if it’s because he’s right here in front of me, his attention on me and nowhere else. His eyes almost pleading for me to accept his words of moving on as an apology for every harsh word and action over the past five years.
Reaching down to the hem of my dress, I pull it over my head, tossing it to the side. I hear Massimo’s grunt behind me as I kick off my high heels. Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra before I toss it to the side.
Reaching for my panties, I gasp when I feel Massimo’s body heat behind me. His hand slips around my waist and his palm presses against my belly. His other hand reaches for the side of my panties and with little effort, he tugs on them breaking the string at the side before they fall to the floor.
Letting my head drop back against his shoulder, I tremble in his arms. The hand that tore my panties slides down to cup my center, while the other one at my belly glides up the center of my chest and wraps around the front of my throat.
Touching my lips to the underside of his jaw, I slip my tongue out and taste him. I feel his chest rumble against my back as his fingers slide through my folds. Widening my legs, shamelessly, I jerk my hips against his touch.
I need so much.
I need more.
I need everything.
Massimo thankfully gives me exactly what I crave. He slips two fingers inside of me, his palm cupping me, applying pressure against my clit. I’m unable to control my movements. Shifting my hips, I moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of me and his palm against my clit—sensational.
“Please,” I breathe against his jaw.
He grunts, his chest rumbling behind me again. “Always, dolcezza. This… always. You never have to ask. It is always yours.”
I whimper when he removes his hands from me,
