Amore

by Sienna Mynx

  “My temper?” he asked.

  “A little,” she chuckled.

  “What was it, Bella?”

  “Oh, ooooh,” she breathed when his thumb began to circle her clit as he fucked her with his hand. “Yes, Gio. Like that.”

  “Tell me what it was you liked about me? In the beginning?”

  She glanced over at him. Confused he would make her use her brain when her pussy was singing for him thanks to his hand. “Your… your… eyes. I love your eyes. It’s why my babies have your eyes. Beautiful… love…it’s your eyes,” she gasped and shuddered. She slammed her knees shut and climaxed for him.

  “I remember everything.” He licked her nipple through her dress as she melted into bliss. “When Nico brought you to me in Lorenzo’s club, and you rejected me. I loved it. I wanted that woman.”

  “You did?” she panted.

  “Yes. I wanted to fuck her, make her shut up, be mine.”

  Mirabella laughed out loud and hit him playfully. He bit her cheek softly.

  “What else?” she asked.

  He pulled his fingers out of her and she groaned.

  “And then I just wanted her to love me.” He paused. She looked again into his gemstone eyes. “I wanted to be loved by her.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I didn’t know why then. I think I finally understood when I learned about your father and mother. When I discovered what my father did to keep them apart.”

  “What did you discover?” she asked. Loving to hear him talk like this to her.

  “Destino,” he kissed her cheek. “Il mio destino.”

  “We are destiny, to have found each other across an ocean of lies and deception. That is fate, sweetheart, and true love,” she smiled.

  “Do you?” he asked.

  “Do I what?” she asked.

  “Do you still love me, after everything I’ve done? Knowing everything I am capable of doing?”

  “More and more each day.” She took his face in her hands and brought it down to kiss his brow. “So much it scares me. You worry about me, Gio, what about my worries? Some nights when you’re off working and gone from me, I can’t sleep from worrying. Sometimes our life can be quite scary. Every day I pray for your soul, mine, our family, our future. If I ever lost you it would kill me.”

  He pulled her dress down her shoulder and her breasts were uncovered. This was not easily done because she had taped her breasts to the fabric to keep them from spilling out of the dress.

  Mirabella stopped him as he tried to remove her pasties. “You trust me right? You know, I can live in two worlds without becoming some uptight bitch who will plot to steal your children.”

  He laughed. “Yes, Bella, I know this. I am…” He said. “It threw me tonight. You drinking, celebrating without me.”

  “You were jealous—”

  “Mannagia! I am not jealous!” he protested. He dropped back on the bed in defeat. “Ammazza!”

  “I’m killing you?” she chuckled. “Is that what you said? How?”

  “I’m ready to make up,” he sighed. “Enough with the talking.”

  “You said you liked it when we talked.”

  “Yes. But aren’t we finish?” he asked.

  “Not until we agree,” she said.

  He ignored her. His arm was thrown over his eyes. Mirabella refused to give up. She turned and straddled his waist. He lay still on his back. She put her hands flat to his chest and she could feel how fast his heart beat. “Donna Mirabella Battaglia, they know who I am, Gio. They respect who I am.”

  “And who are you now?” he asked. He removed his arm from his eyes.

  “A wife, a mother, a sister, a fashion designer. A woman who isn’t afraid of life, even though she knows it can get scary. She welcomes the future, her future, inside or outside of this family. I’m not my mother. And you aren’t Tomosino. We are Mira and Gio.”

  He smiled. “You’re right. I don’t want to be a bastard. It’s never you, Bella. It’s me. I hold on too tight. I get… confused.”

  “Jealous,” she corrected him.

  “Confused!” he insisted. She smiled and nodded that they could substitute the word. “Perdonami.”

  Long ago she used to tell Fabiana that the reason her red-haired friend failed so miserably in love was because she liked her men broken. Love shouldn’t be hard or complicated. Love should be the easiest, most fulfilling experience in life. Was it Fabiana she was speaking about or herself? Every man she’d ever loved has been complicated and stubborn. Yes it was hard, but moments like the one they shared now when he lowered all defenses and gave himself to her, were the most fulfilling. Nobody saw her Giovanni the way she did. She feared for his life, for him period. The only power she had was her love for him.

  “Ti perdono.” She lowered the back zipper to her dress and pulled down the sleeves the rest of the way. She peeled off the pasties stuck on her nipples. The dress was left gathered at her waist. She leaned in until her nipples brushed over the silk threads of his shirt, and smoothed her hands down to his sides. A deep moan slipped up from his throat. She felt his erection beneath her, and that too excited her. She kissed his chin and then his neck as she started to undo the buttons to his shirt. “You like that, sweetheart? Can you now please fuck your donna?” she whispered.

  “Sí,” he answered. And made to rise to undress.

  “No,” she said and pushed him down. “Is this the suit I tailored for you?”

  “One of them, yes,” he smiled. “You set it out for me to wear, remember.”

  “Yes. It’s one of my favorites. Keep it on.” He arched a brow to her request. She ran her hand over the fine threads. “You look like my Don in this suit. I want to fuck the Don,” she teased. Their lips met. His tongue slipped inside. Within his kiss she tasted his strength, his weakness, and his apology. It tasted like sincerity and acceptance. Sweet.

  Giovanni loosened the tie to the side of the evening gown she’d worn. She wore these dresses for him. Each came from an exclusive collection of formal evening and casual wear that allowed a woman to wrap her curves by day, to be unwrapped by her lover at night. She called the line of dresses Bella Donna, inspired by her husband. The dress was cast away and she was exposed in nothing but her black lace garter belt, stockings and designer heels.

  “I love my wife.” His large hand gripped her hip and flipped her beneath him. “You pray, Bella?”

  “Often,” she said.

  “Pray that I can control myself,” his gaze lifted to latch to hers.

  “I don’t need to. You never have to control yourself with me,” she teased.

  Giovanni eased her nipple in between his lips, and the suction of his mouth sent another spasm of heat through his groin, making his dick bulk behind his zipper. He released her from the kiss and went down between her parted legs. When her inner thighs pressed against both sides of his face he remembered again how soft she felt. He kissed her there too. Not a lot of tongue, only his lips. A sweet soft kiss to her core. The first of many apologies he intended to make to her tonight.

  She bit her bottom lip against the moan trapped in her throat. Oh merciful God, her heart cried out.

  “Don’t tease me if you have no plans to please me,” she giggled. The wine continued to fuel her desire and her anger. Or was it now just pure happiness diluting the blood in her veins? She laughed and arched her back. She gave him a show with her raised arms above her head, and the sultry roll of her hips. Giovanni released himself from the confinement of his zipper. He remained fully clothed, his shirt only loosened by a few top buttons. She however was stripped down to her garter belt and stockings. After a single thrust his dick breeched tight heat, and she could feel her passion curl and tighten like an iron vice around her pelvis. His thick cock spread her channel. He thrust into her with measured force until his reach was balls deep. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Mirabella crossed her legs and locked her ankles to trap him between, willing to end
ure.

  “Mmmm, Gio. Yes!”

  Distressed she clung to him, wanting him to fuck her harder and faster. Without realizing it, she was shouting out her desire between thrusts. The wine made her forgetful. The walls were thin in their temporary residence, and her children were not far away.

  She tried to quiet herself and could not. A thick thumb pressed against her other hole. Mirabella’s breath seized when it pushed down inside of her. His thumb pumped in and out of her forbidden zone in time with his thrusting dick. He kept her pinned beneath him, driving them both to climax. Giovanni kissed her face, rubbed his jaw against her soft face, and fucked her slow and then harder and faster. His body went rigid and stiff, but his dick kept tunneling. Mirabella wept from the relief as they both collapsed under the weight of a renewed climax.

  “Yes, baby! Yes!” she cried out.

  The heat their bodies generated made his shirt wet with their shared sweat. She blinked away the tears of comfort and bliss while she clung to him. There was nothing left of her but submission. He lifted his head after a few minutes and stared down into her eyes. “I am proud of you, Bella.”

  “I know. I know, sweetheart.” She smiled up at him. He dropped his head on her chest and pulled his flaccid cock out of her so he could rest against her breast. She stroked his head and relaxed. Mira decided to give him an hour tops and then he’d have to rise to the occasion again. The wine and trip down memory lane had her body purring for a repeat performance.

  **

  “Okay, Catalina, I think I’m done!” Marietta closed the folder. She’d signed every invoice and contract. The party in Bellagio would be the biggest event she’d ever thrown in her life for her birthday. And to think all of it would occur in her house. When Giovanni gave Bellagio back to Lorenzo, her husband put her name on the deed. She couldn’t believe she owned the palace by the lake. She absolutely loved that place.

  Catalina had left to go downstairs and tell Dominic they were ready to leave. She also wanted to say goodbye to the rest of the staff. When she heard the door open, Marietta assumed it was Catalina. She glanced back. Lorenzo stood there observing her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked with a smile.

  “Are you done?”

  “I am now.” She turned and leaned against the desk. “I wish you would have come with Gio. Joined us for dinner. I want to show off my man to all the girls.”

  Lorenzo gave her a sly smile in return.

  “Miss me today?” Marietta teased.

  “Don’t I always? I was hoping I could take you home and you’d cook for us.” Lorenzo stepped toward her.

  “Us? I already ate.”

  He crossed the distance separating them. He pressed his hand to her lower belly and looked into her eyes. “My son needs to eat too. How do you feel?” he asked.

  She found it incredulous that the man would think she would be pregnant because he said so. He was so cute though. “I don’t know if I’m pregnant yet. It might take some time.”

  “I made you a doctor’s appointment, Marie.”

  “I told you, Lo, I don’t need a doctor. I just need you.” She tried to get around him but he grabbed her by the arms and stilled her.

  “Wait,” he said. “Calm down, Marie. I’m not trying to piss you off. This is important to me, to us. Okay? We need to see a professional. Gio thinks it’s a good idea.”

  “What if we take a break?” she asked.

  “Che cosa?” he replied. “Break from what?”

  “Let’s stop trying so hard. What if maybe in two or three years we try for a baby then?”

  “What the hell are you saying?” Lorenzo let her arms go. “Two or three years? It’s been two years! We have been trying.”

  “I’m saying that I have a lot going on, and so do you. A baby, Lo? You are barely here anymore. I don’t want to be my sister. Stuck between her mean husband and some bratty kids.”

  Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed on her. His nostrils flared. “What are you keeping from me?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Huh?”

  “Are you trying not to get pregnant?” Lorenzo asked.

  “No! How? Have I ever done anything? Stop grabbing on me! I’m just trying to talk to you.” She stepped closer to the door. Her heart beat so fast it staggered her breathing. She put her hand to her head and tried to calm herself. Her husband tracked her with his eyes. His face was flushed with anger. He didn’t believe her. Oh God, what if he found out? She was so stupid to run off at the mouth. The man was Catholic, Sicilian; if he discovered she was on birth control pills her marriage would be over.

  “I confess,” she said. “I admit that I haven’t been praying for a kid. And maybe my attitude is why we don’t have one. Okay? I’m sorry for being a bitch about it. You put so much pressure on me. And Zia is constantly asking me if I am pregnant. Do you ever stop to think of how it makes me feel?”

  Lorenzo stared at her. Marietta held his stare. She held her breath. She waited for what felt like an eternity for him to react. His scowl softened. He managed a weak smile.

  “It’s my fault too, Marie. I know you, cara. You can’t be forced or bullied into anything. I should listen more. Come here.”

  Relieved, she went to him. He brought his arm around her shoulders and held her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “Do you know what having a little Marie would do for me? How sane it would make us both?”

  “You’re the crazy one not me!”

  He smacked her ass. “Dio mio!”

  She kissed his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m enough for you, Lo. I can love you. Protect you. I don’t want to share you with a kid.”

  Lorenzo chuckled. “Marie? Woman, the things that come out of your mouth! Of course you want my child. What woman doesn’t want to be a mother?”

  Marietta rolled her eyes. She held tighter to him.

  “Give me a baby. It’s what I need,” Lorenzo insisted. He loosened his hold on her and lifted her chin. “Stop wishing against what will naturally occur between us. We will have children. As my wife you will give me sons. Three. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said bitterly.

  He kissed her and she loved the kiss. Having a child was inevitable. No matter what, she’d not be able to put it off much longer. Maybe this summer she’d stop taking the pill. Maybe then she’d be willing to stomach the idea. For now, she’d take care of him and make him happy. Her way.

  “Let’s go.”

  “I need to get my purse. I left it in Mirabella’s office,” she said.

  He nodded and she walked him out of her office. Lorenzo had never visited Fabiana’s. Even when they visited Milano over the years and she had business to conduct, he took no interest. She led him to Mirabella’s office and then walked over to her sister’s desk to get her purse out of the bottom drawer.

  “I’m ready,” she said checking in her purse for her things. When he didn’t answer her she looked up. He was frozen. Curious Marietta’s head turned to see what he stared at. It was the larger than life portrait of Fabiana and Mirabella.

  “That’s her? The one who died,” Marietta said. She studied her husband’s reaction. It was as if the woman had risen from the dead. He looked away and ran his hand down his face.

  “What? Seeing her upsets you?” she asked. Her voice was tight with jealousy.

  “I didn’t expect to see that.” He said. He put his hands to his waist and turned away. Marietta couldn’t believe how affected he was. She glared back at the portrait.

  “She wasn’t a fucking saint, Lorenzo. I wish you all would stop acting like she was!” Marietta said.

  He cast a look at her from over his shoulder. “No, Marie. She wasn’t a saint. But I did love her. And she died because of me.”

  “So! People die because of you all the time!” Marietta said.

  Lorenzo’s eyes stretched. He looked physically wounded. She didn’t mean to be so heartless, but she hated Fabiana. She h
ated her, and now she knew why. Before she came Fabiana was the center of Mirabella and Lorenzo’s life. She felt second best next to her memory.

  “She wasn’t perfect, Marie. But she did want a life with me. You two are nothing alike. She couldn’t wait to give me children,” he said and walked out.

  Marietta’s mouth fell open. If he had struck her it would hurt less. She turned her angry gaze back to the portrait. She was grateful she didn’t have a knife in her hand to shred it. Wiping at her tears of frustration she went after her husband.

  **

  Kyra wished Jamie wouldn’t drink. Especially around their co-workers and the Donna. It was embarrassing. She had to ask Etienne to see Jamie back to her hotel. There were last minute changes to be made before the Donna visited their workspace tomorrow. The work would now be left to her.

  The steel tip shoe sewing machine-gunned. It’s piercing needle stitched along the seam of the shoe, perfectly binding the sole. She wore a mouth mask to keep from inhaling the fumes she used to polish and soften the leather. Each pair of shoes was hand made by her, Jamie, or one of the ten people trained under them. Kyra picked up the sponge and wiped down the sole to soften the leather and the seams. She’d work on the heel of the shoe next. But first her work needed to dry.

  The door opened and closed behind her. Its hinges were rusted so it did so nosily.

  “I only need another hour!” she said to her chaperones. It’s what she called the men that Renaldo kept hovering around her. The man never exhibited any sign of jealousy, but he found a way to keep an eye on her in Paris, and in Italy. Her sisters thought it weird. Her father thought it dangerous. Kyra didn’t. She tingled with excitement when the men showed respect to her fiancé. What girl wouldn’t love the protective side of her hero? And no matter how many years passed, she never forgot the night Renaldo’s protective nature saved her life. She loved him.

  The Red Bottom shoe factory, under the House of Mirabella’s, was adjacent to Fabiana’s. The front section was boarded up and under renovation. It was going to be a fabulous showroom and boutique. Better than the one they opened in Paris.