by Xavier Neal
Beni’s tense shoulders slowly start to drop.
“That’s what I need in my life.” My hands find their way to my back jean pockets. “That’s what I’ve always needed in my life. That’s the type of person I was taught to be. You fall down, but you don’t stay down because the longer you’re down there, the less options you have, and the more pain you’re inevitably going to feel.” Another calming breath is stolen. “If I’ve learned anything over the past few months of being shot at…kidnapped-”
“I loathe that word.”
“…the death of my father…and facing the possibility of losing our child, it’s that life is not long enough for you to stay on the ground and do nothing. You have to be willing to stand up, no matter how much your knees hurt or how many bruises you’ve got.” More confidence courses my veins. “You brought me into a world where being so…fucking…fragile could not only harm me but you. And, I won’t stand for that shit any longer.”
His hazel gaze begins to glow in a familiar way.
“This…kingdom has cost me so much already. I’ll be damned if it costs me you, too.”
He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.
“I get that you can’t tell me everything or that my hands can’t get as dirty as yours, but I deserve to, at least, decide on how clean they get to stay.”
More of his lip disappears from sight.
“You asked me to be your wife, which makes me your queen, Benicio. So,” my body sways a step closer, “I suggest you remember that means a seat beside you at the table…even if it has to, occasionally, be a silent one.”
His hands tighten their hold of one another in his lap.
“Just because I am not head of this household doesn’t mean I have to be a doormat. You want one of those, then I’ll give you back the ring on my finger, and you can resume your search for her. Am I making myself clear?”
My fiancé swiftly growls, “Non devi mai toglierti quell'anello.”
I lift my eyebrows in question.
“You are never to take that ring off.”
A smirk, instantly, slides onto my face.
“Am I making myself clear?”
The one-word retort is said seductively low, “Sì.”
Additional growls escape from behind his closed lips.
My eyes steal a glimpse of his lap prior to suggestively asking, “You wanna see me naked?”
“Più di quanto voglio il mio prossimo respiro.”
More than I want my next breath.
A sense of power prowls its way down my spine as I take another step forward. “You answer my questions, and I’ll shed something I’m wearing.”
“What happens once you’re out of clothing?”
“Guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
He shoots me a crooked smirk and relaxes into the chair, giving me a view of his already stiffening cock, and waves a hand at me. “Procedere.”
Proceed.
“Where were you for a week?”
“Prague.”
His simple answer has me toeing off a single shoe.
“Really, Mia Bella? Una scarpa?”
“Really, Beni? One word?”
He grins at the challenging retort and slowly shakes his head in disbelief. “We were in Prague for most of the week hunting down and extracting the valet who took you. Once he was in our possession, we brought him here to the states and tortured him for information.” My fiancé tips his chin towards my feet. “The other shoe and both socks.”
“That was two answers at most.”
“Tre.”
“God, it’s like what constitutes as a date all over again,” I mumble while removing the requested articles.
His smile transposes to one of triumph, and his gaze arrogantly enjoys the appetizer-like action.
“Did you learn anything…useful from him?”
“Possibly.” There’s hesitation that, immediately, receives a stern scowl. “He didn’t have a substantial amount of information to offer; however, it was more than we had before, which was…pathetically, almost nothing.”
I reward his honesty and openness by removing my oversized dark grey knit sweater.
At the new sight exposed, he thoughtlessly grumbles, “Santo inferno…”
Holy, hell.
Beni greedily gazes, gobbling up the view of my boobs displayed in a black lacy bra I know is his favorite. It doesn’t seem to matter that there’s so much distance physically between us. His eyes sweep the skin the way I know his lips will. Linger on my nipples until they pebble under the pressure. He gives his cock the slightest squeeze as though attempting to alleviate the straining, or maybe to reassure it that it’ll return to its favorite place soon, and drags his intoxicated gaze back to mine.
I love the way him wanting me feels.
I love the way he makes me feel.
“Will you let me help work on things with the information you do have?”
“Will you remove the bra next?”
“Maybe.”
“Allora forse.”
Then, maybe.
His stubborn nature smashing into mine shoves a wide-mouth smile onto both of our faces.
I hope like hell our son or daughter doesn’t get this trait.
Or, if he or she does, they only use it for business.
And, being the pickiest dater on the planet.
“You still have on too many clothes for the Fiancée Inquisition to be concluded.” He gives his scruff-covered cheek a minor scratch. “What would you like to know next, Mia Bella? If I brought you home a treat as promised? Perhaps, if I was thinking about baby names during the long flight? If I-”
“Why is Dario being trained to replace Miko?”
The question catches him completely off guard, and by the way he seals his mouth shut, it’s clear the easy portion of Naked Jeopardy is over.
“Don’t start that shit over, again, Benicio,” my tone is hard and firm during the folding of my arms across my chest. “I can handle whatever it is. Give me a chance to, at least, try to handle whatever the fuck is going on. I’m owed that much.”
He glances off for a brief moment before confessing, “Because Miko belongs to Shay now.”
“What? Why?! How?!” Perplexity pierces my expression. “And, what does that even fucking mean?!”
“I told you on your first night home that many things were done out of desperation. Acquiring Shay’s services was one.” His slow swallow is difficult to watch. “But, given the uncertainty circling around the issue of who could be trusted, tapping outside resources was our only viable option. Her help came at a cost that I did not choose.” Beni quickly shakes his head, voice riddled with pain. “It was a debt too deep to even…consider.” An additional moment is stolen to still his shaken composure. “She wanted me to trade un amore per l'altro – one love for another – but my refusal was ignored. Miko sacrificed himself…his servitude to her for the next twenty-five years just to bring you back to me. To us.”
The ache I haven’t felt in days returns exponentially.
“There’s nothing I can do to save him, Mia Bella. Going against the Syndicate is not an option. They run qualunque cosa.” Everything. “I have grown up fearing and respecting them for a reason. And…between you and I…I don’t believe he wants to be saved.”
My brow pulls together in increased bafflement.
“I believe he wants to be in Shay’s world.”
“Why?! Why would he want to leave us for her?!”
“Non lo so.”
I don’t know.
“Why do you think that then?”
“È nella sua voce quando le parla.”
It's in his voice when he talks to her.
“When he talks about her.”
The corner of my bottom lip wedges between my teeth.
Your tone…your voice…training those things to lie takes practice but in certain situations all that shit can go out the window.
Like when you meet the
person you belong with…
Rather than pressure him for more details, I resume undressing.
Beni’s eyes drop to where my fingers are touching the button to my jeans. He watches my every move while I watch him. I study the growing need in his expression. I become drunk on his uneven breathing. I get to a point where the harder he leers, the wetter I find myself getting. Low but delicious rumbles reverberate in our room as I inch the jean material to the floor, and I let my ears lap each one of them up.
“Cazzo, corrispondono.”
Fuck, they match.
“They do.” Once it’s there, I kick it away and undo the clasp to my bra. “Did you really expect something else?”
His grin grows crooked. “It’s you, Mia Bella. Sei sempre pieno di sorprese.”
You are always full of surprises.
I don’t know about always, but I am definitely surprising myself right now.
Part of me feared this side of me would be broken forever.
That, without my dad around to lift my chin back up, I would just keep my head down.
Oddly enough, even though he’s not around, he’s still around. In my dreams. In my journals. In my memory. Not living life like the days matter would be an insult to the man he was and the person he hoped I’d become.
It won’t be the fastest shift after the hell of that island, but it’ll happen.
It is happening.
And, I think I’ll be even stronger than I was before.
Beni wets his lips over and over again during his stares, sweeping the skin it hasn’t seen in far too long; however, when my movements don’t continue after I’ve ditched my bra, his displeasure is instantly grumped, “You are not naked.”
“Nope.”
“You should be. You should be completely naked.”
“One more question.”
His nostrils flare in disapproval at the same time he folds his hands in his lap. “I think I have answered more than enough for you to be naked, Mia Bella.”
“One. More.”
There’s a grumbly growl followed by a glare. “Fine. But I get to remove the panties myself.”
My pussy aches at the proclamation so hard I whimper.
An arrogant smirk slithers onto my fiancé’s face, “Lo vuoi, vero?”
You want that, don’t you?
I press my lips together to prevent more sounds from leaking free.
“Risposta. Me.”
The answer is practically moaned, “Yes.”
Additional hunger ripples through his expression prior to him commanding, “Ask.”
Nervousness of being naked for him for the first time in weeks begins to overwhelm me, causing me to close my eyes for a moment and breathe.
This is what I want.
This is a choice.
I am making this choice.
It’s not being made for me.
Benicio would never take a choice like that from me.
When my lids lift and my stare returns to his, the lust I saw just seconds ago has faded into fear. I plant my hands on my hips and steady my somewhat shaky frame. “Will you stop me from going back to work next week?”
Beni’s pout is comical. “That’s quite an unfair question to ask when you’re practically naked, and I can see how fucking wet you are from here.”
The spoken observation only makes me more so. “It’s perfectly fair.”
His eyes slightly narrow.
“In fact, I can’t think of a better time to ask.”
“Mi stai facendo prudere la mano.”
You're making my hand itch.
Another whimper appears in the conversation.
God, I missed being spanked.
And, choked.
And, fucked so hard my entire body just gives up on moving altogether.
Like he can hear my thoughts, my fiancé abandons his continued reluctance on a groan, “Fanculo, how is it someone who doesn’t even understand the simple difference between jelly and jam has this much power over me?”
“How is it someone who organizes his ties from black to a slightly darker black has this much power over me?”
My future husband flashes me a smile that’s mixed with mirth and defeat. “Do you feel ready, Mia Bella?” He pauses, shoulders slumping. “Sii completamente onesto.” Be completely honest. “With yourself and me.”
“Yes.”
The lack of hesitation seems to surprise him.
“This week has done…wonders for me, Beni. Having space to make my own decisions again, to find my footing, to find my voice, to…reclaim and rediscover so much of myself has been a blessing. As much as I missed you and as much as it might’ve been nice for you to be here during the process, I don’t know that I would’ve gotten to this point if you had been. And, I’m glad I got here on my own. I’m glad and grateful your mother only gave advice when asked. I’m glad no one tripped over themselves to stop me from breaking down in the middle of baking biscotti or demanded I skip trying pregnant lady yoga because it’s harder than just taking a stroll. It was exhilarating, and what I needed most to get back to where I want to be in life, which includes working.”
A mixture of conflicting emotions crawls through his gaze.
“I’m gonna work, Benicio. Not working at all ever again isn’t an option, so you can shut that shit right down.”
The corner of his lip curls upward.
“I will absolutely be around for our child and active in his or her life, but I will have a life outside of him or her. Outside of you, so to speak. I mean it’s your company-”
“Our company, Mia Bella.”
His correction cocks an eyebrow.
“Bennett will be your last name, too, making it yours as well.”
Huh.
I’m gonna kinda be my own boss?
“I respect your…need…to have a career and contribute to your own life accordingly. And, if I am being completely honest, no one has the dedication to do what it is you do the very meticulous way you do it. Your ability to spot indecencies, condense budgets, and use data to make suggestions that will increase the profitability in areas of struggle is remarkable. As a company, losing you would be, undoubtedly, felt across the board. As your future husband, your happiness and fulfilment matter to me even when they appear as though they don’t.”
There’s no stopping my mouth from lowering in surprise.
“No, I will not stop you from going back to work next week; however, you will continue to lavoro da casa,” work from home, “until order has been restored in our concrete kingdom and your life is no longer actively threatened.”
I flash him a teasing smirk. “Is that…compromise, Mr. Bennett?”
“It’s excruciating is what it is, Miss Brooks.” My giggling receives a glare, and the curling of a finger towards him. “Vieni. Qui.”
Come. Here.
Stretching out my stroll is a thoughtless choice. My hips slowly start to swish like they’re on autopilot. Like we’ve done this the numerous times we have. I enjoy the way his face flashes frustration and desire that borderlines desperation. I love that I can see his Adam’s Apple bob in anticipation. And, god, do I love the low grunting he, unconsciously, does when waiting to taste me the most.
His limbs remain impressively still upon my arrival, yet he slightly leans forward towards my crotch and inhales deeply. Beni growls afterwards, wets his lips, and focuses his stare on the damp material barely covering my pussy.
His voice is low. Gravelly. “Closer.”
My feet inch us forward until I can feel the heat of his breath teasing me.
I glance down just seconds before his open mouth greets the skin of my lower stomach. A soft, pleased sigh is given on impact, but a loud airy moan is expelled when his teeth lightly graze upward. Sending my stare down to watch, I manage to catch a glimpse of the way his lower lip is being licentiously dragged towards my ribcage, leaving a long, wet line in its wake.
“Mia Bella,” my fiancée whispers a
gainst the wetness he’s created, causing me to shiver, “Dammi il tuo consenso.”
He steals a sensual bite that buckles my knees and closes my eyes.
“Do you remember what that means?” Another nip is taken near my stomach. When there’s not an answer, primarily due to my vocal cords and brain swelling alike, he hums against the teased flesh. “Hm?”
“Um…”
The tip of Beni’s tongue delivers another teasing swipe.
“You’re purposely making it hard.”
All of a sudden, my hand is touched, and I’m tugged forward. My palm lands on his stiffened cock and is closed around it. “No, this is hard.” Another moan begins to escape when it’s cut off by a harsh grunt and even harsher stare. “And, being christened by your consent, once more, is non-negotiable.”
I can’t stop my head from tilting in question.
“Dammi il tuo consenso.”
Give me your consent.
“Give it to me all over again, Mia Bella, and I swear I’ll never abuse it.”
Any ability to breathe is seized.
“It is always yours to give and a gift to have.” His gaze doesn’t waiver or weaken. “Un onore che non ritengo probabile.”
My eyes begin to gloss over from the power behind the unknown words.
“An honor I do not take likely.”
Burning sensations collect in my chest and stare in tandem.
“Ne ho bisogno.” Our eyes lock again as he repeats the phrase, “I need it. I need it before I can have you the way I want you.”
Unable to string together a sentence that fully encompasses the emotional gratitude I have for being given back something that I was robbed of prompts the tears in my eyes to fall, yet the excitement to wield the power I possess has me whispering, “Yes, Sir.” His cock twitches against my hold, and I give it a harder squeeze. “You have my consent.”
Beni’s other hand wrenches me forward by the nape of my neck. Our lips smash together. Our tongues anxiously pry apart one another’s lips. Their touches are persistent and his force impenetrable. There are lashes. Licks. Lashes for stopping to lick. Whimpers for mercy propel from my mouth into his only to meet denial in the form of a harsher grip. His fingers dig in deeper to the territory they’re occupying, dredging up more and more moans until the sound is shaking my entire frame.
