Luca snarled. “How can I be cheating when we don’t have a real marriage? I can’t even fuck my own wife. Do you think I’ll live like a monk until you decide you can stand my closeness?”
That arrogant pig. He and my father had made sure I didn’t even talk to other men until my wedding to Luca. “God forbid. How dare I expect my husband to be faithful to me? How dare I hope for this small decency in a monster?”
“I’m not a monster. I’ve treated you with respect.”
“Respect?” My voice rose higher. “I caught you with another woman! Maybe I should go out, bring a random guy back with me and let him fuck me in front of your eyes. How would that make you feel?”
Suddenly he flung me on the bed and was on top of me, my arms pinned above my head. Pushing through the choking fear, I said, “Do it. Take me, so I can really hate you.” His eyes were the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen.
His nostrils flared. I turned my face away and closed my eyes. He was breathing harshly, his grip on my wrists too tight. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I lay unmoving beneath him. He shifted and pressed his face into my shoulder, releasing a harsh breath. “God, Aria.”
I opened my eyes. He released my wrists but I kept my arms above my head. Slowly he raised his eyes. The anger was gone from his face. He reached for my cheek, but I turned away. “Don’t touch me with her on you.”
He sat up. “I’m going to take a shower now, and we will both calm down, and then I want us to talk.”
“What’s there left to talk about?”
“Us. This marriage.”
I lowered my arms. “You fucked a woman in front of my eyes today. Do you think there’s still a chance for this marriage?”
“I didn’t want you to see that.”
“Why? So you could cheat in peace and quiet behind my back?”
He sighed, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Let me take a shower. You were right. I shouldn’t disrespect you further by touching you like this.”
I shrugged. Right now I didn’t think I’d ever want him to touch me again, no matter how many showers he took. He disappeared in the bathroom. The shower ran for a long time. I sat against the headboard, sheets pulled up to my hips, when Luca finally emerged. I averted my eyes when he dropped his towel and put on boxer shorts, then he slipped into bed beside me with his back against the headboard. He didn’t try to touch me. “Did you cry?” he asked in a puzzled voice.
“Did you think I wouldn’t care?”
“Many women in our world are glad when their husbands use whores or take on a mistress. As you said, there are few marriages based on love. If a woman can’t stand her husband’s touch, she won’t mind him having affairs to satisfy his needs.”
I scoffed. “His needs.”
“I’m not a good man, Aria. I never pretended otherwise. There are no good men in the mafia.”
My eyes rested on the tattoo over his heart. “I know.” I swallowed. “But you made me think that I could trust you and that you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I never hurt you.”
Did he really not get it? “It hurt seeing you with her.”
His expression softened. “Aria, I didn’t get the feeling that you wanted to sleep with me. I thought you’d be glad if I didn’t touch you.”
“When did I say that?”
“When I told you I wanted you, you pulled back. You looked disgusted.”
“We were kissing, and you said you wanted to fuck me more than any other women. Of course, I pulled back. I’m not some whore you can use when you feel like it. You are never home. How am I supposed to get to know you?” He looked frustrated. Mafia men seemed even more clueless than normal ones. “What did you think? I’ve never done anything. You are the only man I’ve kissed. You knew that when we married. You and my father made sure it was the case, and despite that you expect me to go from never having kissed a guy to spreading my legs for you. I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to get to know you so I could relax; I wanted to kiss you and do other things first before we slept together.”
Realization finally settled on his features, then he smirked. “Other things? What kinds of other things?”
I glared. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “This is useless.”
“No, don’t.” He turned my face back to him, then dropped his hand. He’d learned his lesson. “I get it. For men the first time isn’t a big deal, or at least it wasn’t for the men I know.”
“When was your first time?”
“I was thirteen and my father thought it was time for me to become a real man, since I’d already been initiated. ‘You can’t be a virgin and a killer.’ That’s what he said.” Luca smiled coldly. “He paid two noble prostitutes to spend a weekend with me and teach me everything they knew.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Luca said quietly. “But I was a thirteen-year-old teenage boy who wanted to prove himself. I was the youngest member in the New York Famiglia. I didn’t want the older men to think of me as a boy. And I felt like a big deal when the weekend was over. I doubt the prostitutes were overly impressed with my performance, but they pretended that I was the best lover they’d ever had. My father probably paid them extra for it. It took me a bit to figure out that not all women like it if you come all over their face when they give you a blow job.”
I wrinkled
