Page 67 of Savage Vows

Because I’m feeling generous and possessive, I offer my jacket. “Put it on.”

Unhesitatingly she does.

Once we’re both dressed and she’s dropped my cufflinks into the pocket of my suit coat, we go back to the main house. “Would you like dinner?” I ask casually, as if I hadn’t been enraptured watching her fuck herself and then had a powerful orgasm of my own.

As she pulls her sweater back on, I take a salad out of the fridge and warm a pasta dish that the chef has prepared. She pours wine—a crisp chardonnay for a change—and takes a seat at the bar, watching me work.

The air is thick with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. When she finally does come, it will be all the sweeter for the wait.

“I talked to Chiara today.”

Pausing, I look across at her.

“I told her I was glad she was going to be assigned to me.”

I appreciate her handling that. As the wife of the Moretti underboss, she’ll need to make decisions that are in our bestinterests, taking initiative like she had today. Perhaps my mother is right. I need patience. “Thank you.”

Alessia lifts her glass, and I see that my approval has made her hand waver. “And Bella called.”

“Did she?”

“You were right.”

You must really want that orgasm, little rebel.

“She does have security.” Alessia takes a sip. “I guess it makes sense. Nico would go mad with worry about her if he didn’t know she was safe.”

I walk over to her and turn her stool slightly so she’s facing me. With my knuckles, I stroke the column of her throat. “There’s nothing more important to me than knowing you’re protected.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“You’re not expected to,” I say softly. “But the more willing you are to have Chiara or another member of the team around, the more freedom you’ll have.”

With a sigh, she asks, “Everything has to be your way, Matteo?”

“Not everything.”

“Where are you willing to compromise?”

Considering, I frown. “I am sure there are things.”

Shaking her head, she laughs. “You made my point, I’d say.”

As I lower my hand, she takes a small sip.

“What were you drawing when I came in?”

“I don’t generally share my art.”

Though I’m curious, I don’t push. But then surprising me she flips open the cover, and I look at it. The picture is of me, naked, as I looked when I was stepping out of the shower this morning. Droplets of water cling to my skin. She’s captured my muscles, my scars, the intensity in my eyes. She’s seen me in a way no oneelse ever has. I’m impressed with the depth of her insight. “Your talent is astounding.”

She shrugs. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“As long as you don’t ask me to pose in front of a roomful of people.”

“No chance.”

Our dinner is a surprisingly relaxed affair. Afterward we clean the kitchen together. I refill her wine, and we move into the living room. I take a place on one end of the couch, and she curls up on the other.

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