Page 90 of Beauty and the Mafia Boss

The way her eyes widen at the possibility that she's displeased me makes me hard. Fuck! I shift my weight, refusing to move my swim trunks.

Gabriella pulls the tie that holds the robe in place and the piece opens, revealing the body, which hasn't left my thoughts for even a second throughout the entire day, dressed in a minimal white two-piece. Maybe the robe wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Imagining eyes other than mine on that curvy body doesn't make me particularly humorous, even if the thought of Gabriella displaying the profusion of marks, my marks, on her skin, isn't the worst of thoughts. Yet, another inexplicable contradiction.

I look at the hickeys in the curves of her breasts and on her chest and the fingerprints on her thighs and waist. My dick throbs at the sight.

“Come here,” I say, walking to the middle of the pool, where I know she can stand without difficulty.

Gabriella measures the distance between us with her eyes after taking off her robe completely, and, as always, except for last night when I told her to go to her own room, she obeys me. She steps down the first step onto the wet pool deck cautiously and holds each step for the next three steps as her body sinks waist-deep into the water.

Her eyes hold mine, and her breath catches as Gabriella closes the distance between us. She stops in front of me and, surprising me, places her cold hands on my arms. The words she said to me at the event in Rome immediately come back to me, and I know she is seeking comfort, because Gabriella is the only human being on the face of the earth capable of finding such a thing in me.

Not even in the immense list of suitors for my wife that my mother so proudly cultivates is there anyone with that claim. None of those women have any illusions of finding anything in me other than an honorable husband.

“I'm in the pool,” she says, after a few seconds of silence and I realize she was simply processing the fact. “I'm in the pool,” she repeats before a beautiful smile takes over her face, she bites her lip and tilts her head, raising her eyes that had been aligned with my chest, now to my face.

“You are,” I agree, not being able to hide the smile that her reaction provoked, and I lower my mouth over hers in a reflex, looking for another kiss from Gabriella.

Under the water, my hands slide down her body, wrapping around her waist and sliding down her back until they infiltrate the roots of the hair on the back of her neck. Gabriella opens her mouth wider, and her tongue teases mine with a lick that makes me grunt. It only takes a few seconds for her kiss to turn into adesperate display of the desire that has been waiting all day to flood my veins.

“This way I'll end up teaching you how to ride before you have the chance to learn how to swim,” I mutter to myself, with my mouth glued to hers, but then I pull my face away. My hands, however, refuse to move and continue to sink into Gabriella's soft flesh. She keeps her fingers tight on my arms, and the lust-drunk look on her face should prepare me for her next words, yet they surprise me.

“Can I choose?”

“Choose what?”

“Which sport I want to learn first?”

The laugh that erupts from my throat is completely unexpected, as much as her statement.

“How was your appointment with the gynecologist today, Gabriella?” I change the subject, before I actually decide to fuck her, despite the discomfort I know she's feeling.

“I think it went well,” she says and looks away.

“You think?”

“She gave me birth control, but I can only take it on the first day of my period.”

“Just that?”

“Important? Yes,” I bring a hand to her chin and, resting my index and middle fingers under it, I bring her gaze back to mine.

“And what would be unimportant?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. Noelle sent me a report immediately after finishing her appointment with Gabriella.

“We talked, she told me about sexually transmitted infections, did you know that we no longer say sexually transmitted diseases, but rather infections?” she asks, genuinely curious, and I fold my lips inward, stopping myself from smiling, but I nod. “She examined me, took blood and...” she pauses, searching for a word. “Material. She collected material for laboratory tests. She said I'll probably need to take some vitamins, I'm underweight.”

“And how did you come to the conclusion that it wasn't important?”

“Because it doesn't interfere with sex,” she says, blushing right away, which is ridiculous, since asking me to sit on my dick didn't make her blush.

“Maybe I wasn't clear enough, Gabriella, but everything about you matters to me, you're mine and I take care of what's mine. You understand this?” The completely unnecessary declaration of possession jumps out of my mouth as if attracted by some kind of word magnet contained in the girl's eyes. Gabriella nods and opens her lips, slowly sucking in the air. “Use your words.”

“Yes, sir,” she replies, sending images of her on her knees, tied up, repeating this in my mind.

“What else did Noelle say?” I ask, needing a distraction.

“That even if STIs are not a concern...” she begins, looking afraid to broach the subject, and I interrupt her.

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