The Wolf and His Wife

by Penelope Sky

  “Once belonged to a count.”

  “I bet there will be people here who knew my father… Is that a problem?”

  “Why would it be?”

  “Because he pissed away our family inheritance.”

  I stopped before reached the next landing of stairs. “Couldn’t care less. You don’t weigh me down. People appreciate you because of your talent, not judge you because of your father’s stupidity. And don’t forget you’re a very wealthy woman now—as a DeVille.” I guided her up the stairs once more, helping her maneuver in her insane heels. Her hair was in curls and pinned to one side, and she’d done something special to her makeup to make her look particularly gorgeous. She would steal all the attention tonight.

  She smiled slightly. “Well, that’s a good way to put it…”

  We approached the entrance with my arm around her waist, a beautiful couple that looked happy to be together. I hated these social events, but she made them easier. She stole all the focus, so people didn’t want to talk to me nearly as much.

  When we reached the entryway, she stared at the people mingling inside, all wearing beautiful gowns and fine suits. Everyone there was dressed in their finest, working to impress everyone else at the party.

  But my wife was definitely the most impressive.

  With her beautiful dark hair pinned to the side, her unblemished skin glowed like the bistro lights strung around the property. Her dress had a deep V in the front, showing off the cleavage of her perfect tits. The diamond glittered with rainbows, but it didn’t distract from the beautiful woman who wore it.

  It was one of my favorite dresses I’d ever seen her wear because it highlighted every sexy curve she possessed, from her waist to her ample tits. Sometimes I wondered if she was aware of how beautiful she was, if she understood that she was the most gorgeous woman in every room she entered.

  It didn’t seem like it.

  We walked inside and were surrounded by conversations and music. A grand piano was in the corner, and a musician played light music that fit the ambiance of the party. There had to be at least five hundred people there, holding glasses of wine and champagne while appetizers were passed around.

  It was bigger than the last party we went to, so her eyes were wide. “Whoa…this is a lot of people.”

  “And I only know about half of them.”

  “You know half of them?” she asked incredulously. “How can you remember that many names?”

  I shrugged. “When it comes to business, the brain is always a little sharper.” A waiter arrived with a tray, so I grabbed two glasses of champagne for us. “See that guy with the dark-rimmed glasses?”

  She followed my gaze.

  “That’s Dario Nardello, the mayor of Florence.” I nodded to the woman beside him. “That’s his wife, Maria.” With my hand on her waist, I guided Arwen farther into the room. “The blonde in the black dress is Nadia Contretti, a model known for her iconic images in Florence.” I could have kept naming people, but that would put her to sleep. “They are prominent figures but also acquaintances. Most of the night will just be small talk, bullshit.”

  Her eyes stayed on Nadia. “Do you know her?”

  “Yes. That’s how I know her name and what she does for a living.” I couldn’t block the sarcasm from my voice.

  She gave me a look full of attitude. “You know that’s not what I was asking.”

  I stared at her blankly, having no idea what she meant. “Speak your mind because I can’t read it.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” She turned blunt.

  My eyes gently shifted back and forth as I looked into her gaze, surprised she would ask such a question. She didn’t cross the line into my personal life and rarely expressed interest in it. “Because she’s a model, you assume I slept with her?”

  “Am I wrong?” she challenged.

  She had me backed into a corner. “No.”

  She smiled slightly, as if in victory. “I figured.”

  “A bit of an assumption.”

  “You two have nothing in common in terms of business, so I doubt there was much talking going on.” Her voice was borderline condescending, as if she judged me for having an affair with a beautiful woman.

  It was almost as if she were jealous. “Since when do you care who I sleep with?”

  “I never said I cared.”

  “Seems like you do.”

  She stepped in close to me, looking up at me with eyes that matched the color of her dress. With her dark makeup, she looked more alluring than usual, so when she copped an attitude, it was somehow sexy. Now, she was so close, she could kiss me if she wanted to. And the closer she became, the more it seemed like her lips were about to touch mine. We hadn’t kissed in public unless it was for a show. But this one would be genuine.

  She moved in until her lips lightly pressed against mine, soft like rose petals. She kissed me as she held on to my arm for balance. The embrace was unexpected. She told me she didn’t care who I slept with, but now she was kissing me like she wanted me to be hers.

  It was ironic, considering Nadia wasn’t nearly as beautiful as Arwen was.

  But I would never tell my wife that.

  She pulled back, a slight smile on her lips, like she knew a secret she would never share.

  “Maverick DeVille.” Franco Mancini approached us with his wife in tow. He was the owner of one of the most historic hotels in the city, a building that had been standing for hundreds of years. It’d been renovated but contained the same unique architecture that made it timeless. “Nice to see you, young man.” He shook my hand.

  “You as well, Franco. How’s the hotel business?”

  “No complaints,” he said with a smile. “And the cheese business?”

  “I have no complaints either.” I smiled politely then introduced the woman beside me. “Franco, this is my wife, Arwen.” It was strange to say those words out loud, to introduce this woman as my wife. It started off as a ploy, but now it felt more real than ever. “Arwen, this is Franco Mancini. He owns the historic Le Sirense hotel here in Florence. And this is his wife, Carla.”

  “Nice to meet you both.” She shook hands and allowed Franco to kiss her on the cheek. “I’ve seen your hotel, and it really is beautiful. Had lunch a couple of times.”

  “Thank you,” Franco said. “It’s in a lovely spot.”

  Carla smiled at both of us. “You two look really happy…definitely newlyweds.”

  My arm returned around Arwen’s waist.

  “Just like with cheese, you have great taste,” Franco said. “I’ve known you for a long time, Maverick, and I’ve never seen you so happy. That’s what happens when you fall in love… Same thing happened to me.” He looked at his own wife. “And you’ll be happy for a very long time.”

  “Please sing something, Mrs. DeVille.” Charles, the host of the party, practically begged my wife to serenade the room with her beautiful voice. “We would be so honored if you would sing us a song.”

  Even though Arwen was certain of her capabilities, she always looked shy when someone asked her to perform. She turned to me and silently asked permission.

  I didn’t want to let her go because she made this party more bearable, but I knew I couldn’t hog her forever. “Just one song.”

  Charles took her by the wrist and pulled her away. “Thank you so much, Mrs. DeVille. I’ve seen you at the opera so many times…”

  I stayed in the back with my glass of champagne, knowing people would swoop in for conversation any moment. We’d spent the evening talking to dozens of people, making small talk about the end of summer and work. Nadia didn’t come near me because she spotted me with my wife and steered clear.

  I still didn’t know if Arwen was jealous or not.

  Arwen sat at the piano with her chin tilted toward the keys. She avoided the gaze of everyone in the room as they stared at her and waited for her to play her song. She was used to attention, used to having an auditorium of people stare at her
for hours, but these intimate gatherings softened her. Maybe it was because she played her own music instead of whatever the production provided for her. Perhaps it really was more intimate.

  Her fingers stroked the keys, and the music filled the room. The tune was slightly quick, beautiful, and resonating, and she wove a vivid picture without singing a word. Then the words followed seconds later. “The kiss of a thorn, a painful sting. But the kiss of a petal, it becomes serene. Tough like hardwood and wise with rings. An ageless soul, too bitter to sing…” She captured the attention of every single person in the room. Even the waiters stopped serving because no one was interested in food or drink.

  My eyes were focused on her, my dick hard in my slacks. The second her voice turned poetic, I was stripped down to my masculine basics, reduced to a man that wanted the most beautiful woman in the room. The songs she sang were much better than the ones given to her at the opera. Her words were always so profound, but also cryptic.

  “Damn, that woman can sing.”

  I stilled at the sound of his deep voice, recognizing it even though I’d only heard it a handful of times. With my glass in my hand, I slowly turned to the man who’d come to my side. At nearly seven feet with a maniacal gleam in his eyes, he stared at my wife like he had the same thoughts I did.

  My heart picked up its pace, my fingers crushing my glass a little too hard. My eyes focused on the white teeth that were visible in his carnal smile. He was almost unrecognizable in his suit since he always wore casual clothes to our meetings. I hadn’t expected him to appear, but when it came to money, it didn’t matter how it was earned.

  He finally turned his gaze on me, his eyes gray like steel. “I understand why you aren’t eager to sell her.”

  Her music continued to play in the background. “The rock beneath my feet, the crutch for my knees, he’s held my hand so sweet, never asked me to say please…”

  I didn’t carry a weapon, and even if I had, it would destroy my reputation if I’d drawn it at a party like this. All I could do was hold his gaze and watch him grin with joy, enjoying the fact that I was clearly caught off guard.

  Kamikaze held a glass of champagne like he was a refined man who deserved to be there. “I’ll make you a deal—”

  “If you think you can just take her from me, you’re mistaken. Cross me, and you cross all of my men. You walk onto a battlefield and start a war. We both know that’s not something you want.” I kept my voice low so the surrounding crowd wouldn’t hear me, but they seemed more absorbed in Arwen’s singing anyway.

  He smiled slightly, like this was all some kind of joke. “I’m not going to take her from you, Maverick. Come on, I thought we had more respect for each other than that.”

  His words meant nothing because I knew this was still a threat—just veiled.

  “I’m willing to offer a fair market value price for her. I’m not trying to rip you off, Maverick.”

  Maybe it was just business to him, but it was incredibly insulting to me. “She’s not for sale—”

  “Forty million.” He took a drink of his champagne then wore a gloating smile.

  Forty million was an astronomical amount for a human being. She wasn’t the Duchess of Cambridge or the Queen of England. My father wanted her dead, and now this psychopath wanted to buy her like a cow for good steak. “No.”

  “Fifty.”

  “No.”

  “Sixty—”

  “Not for fucking sale.” I stepped closer to him, ready to break his jaw right there in the middle of the room. “How many times do I have to say it? You’re gonna have to take her from me because I will never sell her.”

  He chuckled. “Wow…that must be good pussy.”

  He was clever to choose this party as the backdrop for our conversation—because I was paralyzed from doing anything.

  “I’ll cut you a deal. Keep in mind, I don’t do this often. I’ll buy her from you for a fair price, sixty million—but I’ll give you a cut of the proceeds she earns through her lifetime. That’s million-dollar checks every year until she gives out.”

  My jaw was so tight, it was liable to snap and break. The idea of Arwen being a slave to barbarians made me see so much red that I turned blind to all the other colors. All of this was happening because of her piece-of-shit father, and it made me lose all respect for his memory. I couldn’t even get myself to say no because I was too pissed.

  Kamikaze could read the answer on my face. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “She’s not for sale. She’ll never be for sale. Move on to something else, Kamikaze. I won’t change my mind.”

  “I sure hope you do. I’ve always liked you, Maverick. I would really hate for things to get ugly…” He pivoted his body toward mine, looking me right in the eye. Arwen sang from the piano, her song slowly coming to a close. Kamikaze stared at me for a long time, his eyes shifting back and forth as he gauged my reaction. “And you know how ugly shit like this becomes.”

  Arwen was cornered by her admirers, fielding questions about her singing and skills on the piano. Glasses of champagne kept being placed in her hand, and she kept drinking and drinking, bursting with laughter as her cheeks blushed with the alcohol.

  I kept my arm around her waist so she wouldn’t fall over and embarrass herself, but I wasn’t really paying attention to her because my eyes continued to scan the room for signs of Kamikaze.

  It seemed like he was gone.

  I didn’t want him anywhere near Arwen.

  As the night continued, she got hammered. Laughing her heart out and making new friends, she was definitely the subject everyone would talk about for weeks to come. No one cared about me—just my beautiful and fascinating wife.

  I finally pulled her aside when she’d had too much. “We should get going.”

  “Come on.” She meant to pat her hand against my chest but hit my chin instead. “This is fun. You know which parties to hit.”

  “Nope. Party is over.” I escorted her out of the house and to the valet at the end of the long pathway.

  “Come on, live a little.” She wobbled on her heels and almost tripped down one of the stairs. “Whoa…I thought I jumped out of an airplane for a second there.”

  I scooped her into my arms and carried her the rest of the way.

  “Wow…you’re so strong.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me on the neck.

  I carried her to the car and got her into the passenger seat. I had to buckle her safety belt because even that was too hard for her. Then I drove home, listening to her mumble about nonsense in the seat beside me. Then she started to hum…but that was actually nice.

  When we got home, I carried her inside and up the stairs. When we reached the second floor, I turned to carry her to her bedroom.

  “No…I want to sleep with you,” she whispered in my ear, her melodic voice innately seductive.

  I didn’t want to sleep with a drunk woman, but maybe keeping her with me was smart. I wouldn’t want her to choke on her own vomit and die. The only way to make sure she lasted through the night was if I was beside her the entire time.

  I turned around and carried her to my bedroom.

  She was light in my arms and still beautiful with smeared makeup, and I felt lucky this woman came home with me every night. Every man in that room wanted her, married or not. But I was the one who got to have her. Kamikaze wanted her more because it was obvious how alluring she was, how much a man would pay to have her for the night.

  The thought made me sick to my stomach, so I stopped thinking about it.

  I set her on the bed with her legs dangling over the edge. I loosened the straps of her heels then pushed them off so her feet could finally relax.

  She lay there, her eyes closed like she was dead tired.

  I turned her over and found the zipper at the back of her dress. I tugged it open and loosened the dress so I could pull it down her body toward her hips.

  When her tits popped out, her eyes opened. Firm a
nd round with cute nipples, her tits pointed straight up as she shook her hips to get herself out of the gown. She watched me, studying the way I stared at her body without shame.

  I got the material to her ankles then tossed it over the chair.

  When I came back to her, she already had pushed her thong off, leaving her completely naked on my bed. She spread her legs when I came near, beckoning me to stand between her thighs and fuck her.

  I didn’t care that she was drunk. She was my wife, and I could fuck her whenever I wanted. My palm pressed against her flat tummy, and I slid my hand up between her voluptuous tits. I touched her warm cleavage and watched her suck in a deep breath, filled with desire. My eyes worshiped her perfect figure, from her slender stomach to her nice pussy.

  She grabbed my hips and tugged on me, wanting me to lean over her so she could kiss me.

  I fell forward and held my body up with my arms, my lips just inches from hers.

  With parted lips and lazy eyes, she looked at me like she wanted me to stick it to her good. “You’re the only man I want to go home with…” Her palms planted against my chest, and she pressed her lips to mine. She kissed me slowly but passionately, giving me her eager tongue as her fingers loosened my tie and unbuttoned my shirt. She pushed my shirt off my shoulders then moved to my slacks. The belt came off and the zipper was undone. “Now I know what it really means to be with a man…”

  My cock nearly exploded in my boxers because this felt like a dream. I’d done dirty talk with beautiful women, but I’d never experienced something like this…when the most desirable woman in the world made me feel like the most desirable man.

  I pulled away in my eagerness and dropped my boxers. A condom was on my shaft in seconds, and then I grabbed her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed. I was prepared to fuck her deep and hard, to sheathe my dick until only my balls hung out.

  I pushed my head inside her and slowly made my entrance, gliding through the slickness she’d already produced. She was so wet for me…matching the words she whispered to me. I closed my eyes as I moved all the way into her, buried inside the slit of heaven.