Is that his ‘polite’ way of saying he can tell I gained weight? I try to press down the flush of humiliation. It’s like I stupidly hoped he would say something romantic. I want to punish him with a response that’s just as emotionless.
“I’m following the contract. Nothing more.”
I swear I detect a flicker of anger, but Luigi remains in complete control of his facial expression, and I can’t read whether I’ve made him angry, or if he’s just thinking of something else. Maybe he’s missing whatever woman he was posted up with in Pittsburgh.
He struggles with his next words. “I’m glad you’re well.”
“It’s almost a sentiment.”
Luigi chuckles. Then he says something so real that I regret pushing back.
“I missed you,” he says. “Is that a good enough sentiment for you?”
“Why did you want to meet me alone?” I ask him. “Angela misses you too.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Luigi asks, shedding the black jacket over his white button down. This man won’t let go of these tailored suits. I can’t blame him. There’s something so sexy about a man in formal wear, even if he’s a cruel, unfeeling asshole like Luigi.
“No. You’ve been gone long enough to move on to greener pastures.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m sure you had fun in Pittsburgh.”
Luigi’s hand snaps to my face. I struggle not to flinch as he grabs my cheek possessively, straddling the line between desire and anger in a way I find impossible to comprehend. He’s been gone for ten weeks. His emails have all been related to our contract and his hopes for his future heir. I don’t have a clue how he feels — not even now.
“Do you think I fucked another woman in Pittsburgh?” He asks. Each new breath of air becomes more of a struggle to inhale.
"We only have a baby contract. I don't expect you to stay loyal to me while you're living like a prince."
Luigi's face darkens. "I'm glad you had bodyguards while I was gone with that type of twisted fucking logic."
Somehow, this pissed him off. I stay quiet, not wanting to step on more grenades. His fingers sink into my cheeks more forcefully as he gets possessive and tense.
"You are never going to fuck another man again," Luigi says darkly before leaning forward and kissing me. His lips force mine apart and he doesn't warm me up before sliding his tongue eagerly into my mouth. I can taste his desperation, feel his heat burning against me. His dark emotional state seems to rise for a second and then he pulls away, giving me another chilly, empty stare.
"And I would never sleep around behind your back. You're the mother of my child and so far, you have obeyed every last one of my commands."
He follows that statement with another kiss. My emotions swell in my chest, but I force myself to suppress them quickly, because Luigi confuses the hell out of me and finding out I'm wrong about the mutual nature of our feelings would just make me feel even more foolish than I already do for letting him get me pregnant.
I thought I was too old for a baby to take after just one time. Call me naive, but I'm not a fertility expert, and I've never come close to being in a relationship where kids were on the table. I'm even more vulnerable with Luigi because of that.
"Okay," I respond awkwardly, because I don't know what to say to Luigi and it's the only response I can force without panicking.
"Every night I was gone, I thought about tasting you. I miss how good you smell..." he kisses my neck. "How wet your lips get..."
Luigi kisses me on the lips next, slowing down to suck on my lower lip before he pulls away. When I look up into his eyes after pulling away from the kiss, I feel even weaker than before.
"What I miss even more than my tongue between your legs is feeling those thick ass lips wrapping around my cock."
He runs his finger over my lips slowly, clearly fantasizing about all the dirty things he missed in the past ten weeks away from me. I'm reeling from his words, stunned into silence and not as sexually confident as the broad-shouldered Italian man feeling me up and expressing every little emotion that comes into his head.
The second I acknowledge Luigi's expressions of my emotions, I know he'll stiffen up, withdraw this intimacy, and return to the cold stranger he is with me because of a contractual obligation he's too lazy to wriggle away from.
"Hmm," Luigi murmurs. "I think I'll taste your cunt first. That way when you suck my cock, I'll feel your appreciation."
He grips my ass cheeks and guides me towards the bed, practically tossing me back before he drops to his knees. I am way too pregnant to fight him off physically or mentally. My baby bump seems a lot bigger than it should be at ten weeks, and I haven't been thrown around or done too much physical activity with the rough first trimester I've had.
Luigi parts my legs and nearly rips off the loose fitting maxi-dress I just ordered. To stop him from going crazy, I lift the dress, basically helping him to get closer to my underwear. What is wrong with me? My brain fires panicked signals throughout my entire body as Luigi's large arms part my thighs and he rubs the outside of my underwear teasingly with his fingers.