“Lie down.”
She reclined on the bed, becoming visibly tenser. I pushed off my shoes then stretched out beside her, still almost completely dressed. Gripping her hip, I dragged her closer to me and leaned over her.
A hint of nerves crossed her beautiful face. I focused on her body, not her face, and pressed a kiss to her neck. She was still, holding her breath. Not a great reaction but not too bad. I pressed another kiss to the spot right below her ear, and she surprised me by twitching and letting out a giggle.
A teenage girl giggle. I paused then raised my eyes. She bit her lower lip, her expression caught between embarrassment and an uncertain smile. She looked like such a fucking girl. Of age, my ass. She was legal, but her antics, her reaction, her expression… they weren’t those of a grown woman but of a girl on her way to becoming a woman.
I pushed up, stifling a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I’m ticklish.”
She regarded me with uncertainty, her eyes suddenly filled with anxiety. This wasn’t going how I hoped it would. The makeup and elegant dress had made her look older. Now, without a touch of makeup and dressed in her nightgown, she looked like the teenager that she was.
I did what was necessary. I threatened, tortured, killed, so sleeping with my wife should have been a piece of cake.
I ignored her apology and stood. The faster I got this over with, the better. I removed my shirt, followed by my pants and socks. When I reached for my boxers, I noticed Giulia’s gaze. Her eyes were huge, which made her look even younger and more innocent, and she stared at me in a mix of fascination and fear.
I released my waistband, deciding it was better if I kept my cock covered for now. If she let out a terrified shriek upon seeing it, I’d tell Luca to screw himself on the fucking sheets and then my blood would definitely tinge them red.
Perched on the edge of the bed, I reached for her knee, touching it lightly.
She twitched again and bit her lip, trying to hold in another giggle.
“I’m fairly sure I know one place where you’re not ticklish,” I said sardonically.
She pursed her lips. “You can’t know…” Her eyes widened. “You mean…” She sucked in a quick breath. At least she understood my comment. If she’d stared at me blankly, I would have lost it.
I knelt on the bed. I wanted to relax her enough to keep her pain to a minimum. My first wife had cried through our first time together, an experience I really didn’t want to repeat.
I pushed up her nightgown enough to reach her panties, and my groin tightened in a familiar way seeing the valley between her thighs. I touched my fingers to her hips, sliding them into the waistband of her underwear.
She was perfectly still, watching me with parted lips and that damn innocence that was going to kill me. “Can I take them off?”
It was a rhetorical question—we both knew what was expected.
“What if I say no? Would it matter?” she asked with a hint of insolence.
“Would it make you feel better if I continued despite your saying no? It certainly won’t help me.”
“I doubt you’d care. It certainly won’t hurt you as much as me.”
Anger surged through me. I moved over her, bracing myself beside her shoulders. Her hands came up as if to ward me off, soft palms pressing against my chest. Her eyes widened, and she darted them to my pecs, her fingers shaking against me.
“Listen up. You’re right, you’ll be the one who’ll experience discomfort, but I can guarantee you that being bratty about it doesn’t help. If you work with me, it’ll be better.”
“It’s not just the pain. Until this moment, men were allowed to kiss my hand or dance with me at social gatherings, nothing more. And now you’re here, over me, half naked, and I’m half naked, and soon we’ll both be naked, and you’re going to…” She sucked in a deep breath.
“I know,” I said quietly. “Don’t start to cry.”
She drew her lower lip between her teeth. After a moment, she said firmly. “I won’t cry.” Then she peered up at me. “Why do you care? You’ve seen worse than someone crying.”
I had. Far worse, and I hadn’t given a shit. But Giulia was young, too young, and my wife, the woman who was supposed to become a mother to my children. Fuck. This was such a mess.
She was biting her lip, not looking at me, but at something only she could see.
“Giulia,” I murmured, and her gaze settled on me. “Help me with this.”
She looked at me with those big eyes and nodded slowly.
Relief filled me. Bringing my head down, I kissed her lips lightly. Then again. At the third kiss, Giulia’s lips moved hesitantly against mine, and I sucked her lovely plump lower lip into my mouth. She made the smallest sound and closed her eyes. My tongue stroked her open and dipped in, tasting my wife for the first time. Hell, so unbelievably sweet it was going to kill me. Not stopping the kiss, I rested my palm on her ribcage.
Her eyes shot open, and she flinched slightly. I drew back from her mouth, watching her as I stroked my palm down her side then back up—a soft touch, the promise that I’d treat her with care. “Will you let me undress you?”
Again, the silent nod. I sat back on my haunches and helped Giulia into a sitting position. Then I hooked my fingers under the hem of her nightgown and dragged it upward. She lifted her arms so I could pull it over her head. I discarded the flimsy thing on the floor and turned my attention back to Giulia. Her arms were loosely crossed over her chest. Biting her
