La Dolce Vita: Romantic Suspense (Battaglia Mafia Series Book 7)

by Sienna Mynx

  One of the men opened the door for her.

  " Grazie," she said and went inside.

  The silent darkness greeted her. She felt comfortable in his space. No. Not comfortable. She felt safe there. The door to his office was open. It was the first place she checked. She had put an large leather sofa big enough to sleep a giant in his office. Most nights he camped out there. Tonight, of course, she found the room empty. The hour was late. The last she checked it was closer to three in the morning. He had to have gone to bed. Possibly after drinking. When she looked around, she found no evidence of alcohol. The liquor cabinet appeared to be locked. There were no empty glasses left out. Though Mirabella appreciated the change of his habits, she had to admit that since her return to him, he hadn't taken a drop of alcohol in her presence. It wasn't like him not to have a glass of wine with dinner, and whiskey and a cigar for desert. She wasn't sure what that meant about Giovanni.

  The villa was small. Not many rooms or much space on the lower level. Even after renovations to his office. However, she made his room upstairs the most comfortable. She left the room and closed the door. She then climbed the stairs in the dark. She found him in his bedroom. He was on his back. He had his shirt open and trousers still on. He hadn't even bothered to undress. His arm was thrown over his face. His gun lay next to him.

  Mirabella leaned inside the frame of the door and stared at him. Should she let him sleep or wake him?

  "Gio?" she said. Giovanni didn't stir. When they slept together, he kept moving through the night, reaching for her, touching her. She thought he was just a restless sleeper. Watching him now, she realized his restlessness always came when he was consumed with her. And she felt the same. Mirabella removed her robe. She tossed it on the floor. She walked over to the bed and crawled over the mattress to him. He immediately woke and reached for his gun. His gaze could barely be seen through his sleepy stare.

  "It's just me," she whispered.

  "Bella,” he replied softly.

  "That's right, honey. I'm still your Bella," she kissed his hand, and he released his hold on his gun. Then she gently removed it from his reach. She leaned over and set it aside on the night table. He still wore a look of bewilderment on his face, but he didn't push her away. She took that as a good sign.

  "What's wrong?" he asked. "Another nightmare?"

  "Yes. It was about loneliness this time. You came home after two days away, and you didn't wake me. You came here. You know better," she said. Before he could respond, she pressed her lips to his and silenced him with a kiss. She pressed down hard against his chest to keep him from lifting. Thanks to his unbuttoned shirt, she could feel the warmth of his skin and the rapid beating of his heart. Her lips left his. He stared up at her with his jeweled eyes, and she felt a burning desire, an aching need for another kiss.

  "Remember the first time you kissed me at Villa Melzi d'Eril?"

  He nodded his head yes.

  "Then kiss me like that again."

  His hand reached and he touched the side of her face. His fingers slipped around her nape, and he drew her mouth down to his. She had parted her lips before theirs met. Giovanni bypassed the warm up and went right in. His tongue eased in between her parted lips and swept over hers. A kiss from the Don required complete surrender, however, as his chosen woman she knew he expected a bit of resistance. And that’s what she gave him. The passion ebbed and flamed, distinctly fueled by the absolute power of his kiss. Every nerve in Mirabella’s sex weakened when his hands slid down her back, and each palm cupped, squeezed, and separated her buttocks. And then came her complete surrender. He rolled her to her back. She hooked a leg around his waist. Giovanni rubbed the bone of his erection against the lips of her vagina, and she could feel his desire bulk. His tongue stopped moving. He lifted his face and looked down at her, and she saw the conflict in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Mirabella knew he remembered the way they were before. But he couldn't seem to forget how they were now. It was Kei's curse. That demon had crawled into her head and wanted her to mistrust even the slightest thing he said or did in her marriage.

  "Why don't you talk to me, Bella? Tell me about the dream. I can help."

  "Make love to me," she pleaded.

  He looked down at her body like a man who had been denied dinner. She grabbed the back of his head and brought his mouth forcefully down to her nipple. He traced his tongue around the circumference of her areola before swallowing and sucking as much of her breast that he could bring into his mouth. Giovanni released her nipple with a smacking pop then went in for the other.

  “Yes, oh, yes,” she breathed.

  He paused again. He lifted up from her body with his hands as if he were doing pushups. "Wait," he began and squeezed his eyes shut to regain control.

  "Mi sento meglio di ieri--I feel better than yesterday." She said. She gripped his back to pull him down. She lifted her head off the pillow and licked under his neck. When that didn't work, she slipped her hand between their bodies, past his belt, and into his underwear to clasp his erection. "I’m fine. I’m your wife. Stop thinking the worst when I just miss you."

  "Are you sure?" he breathed.

  She stroked his length. "Yeah, of course, now fuck me."

  "That's enough," he grabbed her hand. "I don't need you to prove your love to me through sex, Bella."

  "Is that what you think I'm doing? Proving my love?"

  "No. Yes. No. I think I'm the one not worthy. Never you," he said.

  "That's so poetic, Gio," she smiled. "You a poet now? Huh?" she teased.

  He shook his head with a sly smile.

  "You think I need you to be delicate and sweet? I need you to invite me into bed? To seduce me? Do you?"

  "Va bene, Bella, I get it, basta."

  "No. Not enough. Not even close. Talk dirty to me. Or shut up and just kiss me!"

  He moved off her. He didn't take the bait.

  "You don't smile anymore," she sat up on her elbows and looked over at him. "Not for me."

  "I love you," he said in earnest. “I smile for you and the kids.”

  “No. You smile for the kids. You look at me with pity or worry. I see it.”

  “Not true.”

  "Does being with me bring you pain now?" she asked and sat upright. "Loving me? When I can be such a bitch at times."

  "Being with you keeps me alive," he said. “And you are never a bitch to the children or me. Bella, you have to understand that we don't expect you to be perfect...”

  "Then smile for me," she eased over him and straddled his lap as he lay on his back.

  His mouth twitched, but no smile surfaced. It was a joke she didn't find funny. She wasn't going to give up. Not yet. She turned around and got on her hands and knees. Her backside was in full view to him, and so was her sex, wet and open for him to see how badly she wanted him. She looked back over her shoulder and moved her butt from side to side seductively in his face. This time, he did smile. Mirabella laughed. She turned around and plopped down on her ass between his knees. Her feet rested on either side of his hips, and her thighs parted. She lay back and gave her husband a full view of her body.

  "So you want to play games?" he asked.

  "Mmmhmm, I was lying in bed, with the kids, thinking about this," she sighed. "If you’re too tired from your traveling say so. I'll leave. Play with myself back in that big empty house. Pretend you were there. Are you tired, Gio?" She massaged her left breast as she used her other hand to part her lady parts down below. He undid his buckle. He reached inside and removed his erection and stroked it as he watched her play with herself. She smiled. He wanted her. Both were good signs that the night would end as she wished. With him in her arms and the memory of her nightmare faded away.

  Giovanni let go of his dick and the rod sprung upward. He stopped her hand from teasingly stroking her pussy for him. He pulled her by the hand, so she again sat up. He did so as well. They sat on the bed facing each o
ther. She inched closer and eased her legs behind his waist and pressed the bottoms of her feet together. Still, they were separated. She looked down at his erection standing tall between them. Maybe she should take him into her mouth? She knew he'd like that.

  “Sono la tua puttanella--I’m your little whore. Fuck me like one,” she said.

  “Tell me where to start,” he asked and crawled toward her.

  She pushed his head down. “Mangiamela fica--eat my pussy.”

  “Fai la brava--be a good girl.”

  "Gio, I think I'm crazy," she groaned as his head slipped between her thighs and he kissed her pussy. She thought he didn't hear her. But he lifted his head, and he smiled.

  "I love your crazy," he confessed. He drew her closer by the hips. She tilted her pelvis a bit so she could rub her pussy over his descending mouth. He tongued her hole and swiped up to flick at her clit as if it were a tiny punching bag. He then nipped it between his teeth and pulled. She gasped in love with the sting. And then he sucked, and he sucked harder and harder. Mirabella rolled her hips. While sucking her clitoris he fingered her pussy, and it was so delicious. Giovanni then fingered her ass. Which she knew he would possibly claim too before the night was over. She didn’t care. She wanted to feel, and the best place to feel alive and loved was when she made love with him. The swirls of his tongue and the penetration pitched her closer and closer to climax. She gripped the back of his head and thrust her hips back and forth against his face and mouth. She cried out and sat up. With one hand behind her and the other to the back of his head, she fed him her pussy until her womb melted and her pelvis was set afire with pleasure. Mirabella fell back on the bed gasping for air.

  Giovanni flipped her over. He was on his knees. He forced her to remain down. She heard him reaching in the nightstand drawer. And when she heard the squirt of liquid she knew it was the lube she kept there for them. He greased his dick, and she bit her bottom lip. Being fucked in the ass by her husband wasn't her favorite, but it was one of his. There were boundaries for them. She learned that on her honeymoon.

  He covered her. His back pressed down on her sweaty skin. Flesh to flesh.

  "Bite down if you have to," he breathed. She gripped the foot of the bed. He forced her thighs apart, and she lifted her ass as much as she could for him. The first thrust of his cock was shockingly quick. It left her belly trembling from the aftershock. A ring of muscles stretched, tightened and then flexed as if to push him out of her ass, but he thrust in deeper. Mirabella bit hard into the mattress, and her breath hissed out of her nostrils from her lungs.

  Giovanni slammed into her again. Mirabella let go of the mattress and released a small cry of pleasure and pain. That must have excited him. He began the kind of rapid thrusts that forced her backside to adjust to its foreign invasion. He bit down on her shoulder, and she winced. His hand slid under her belly, and he pinched and wiggled her clit. The thrusting eased. He fucked her nice and slow and sent spirals of bliss downward to her neglected pussy. Every nerve in her body ignited in all the right places as he took full control. However, she wanted more, harder and deeper, the kind of heart rendering love she was used to from a man so powerful.

  He groaned. Wanting the same thing. He ended her torment and slid out of her anus and left the bed. She heard him in the bathroom washing his dick. He returned with a rag to clean her of the lube. He kissed both cheeks of her ass before he turned her over and threw the rag to the other side of the room.

  Giovanni lifted to look down at her. His breathing was so rushed his chest bulked and expanded with his hard intakes of breath.

  “Strofinati la clitoride--rub your clit,” he told her.

  She did as he instructed.

  “Apri le gambe--spread your legs," he insisted. Apparently, they weren't wide enough.

  He smiled.

  “Put me inside of you,” he said.

  She grabbed his dick gently and guided him to her opening. It was all that was required. He did the rest of the work. Slowly and tenderly he fed his cock to her pussy, inch by inch.

  He circled his hips and screwed in the last shallow inches before withdrawing and plunging deep again.

  “Yes, Bella, yes,” he said as she hooked her legs up around him and locked his waist to her with her thighs. It was too much! It wasn't enough. Each hip thrust and jerking plunge sent her to the breaking point.

  "Più duro--harder! Più veloce--faster! More, Gio! More!" she begged.

  All of his masculine strength bore down on her. He said the most beautifully wicked things in her ear. Italian words that would make any man or woman run from a room blushing. And she smiled loving every decadent bit of him. He brought her toward the sweetest climax.

  Mirabella didn't want it to end. The pleasure was too intense and gratifying. He kissed and sucked her neck. She could feel the bites leaving hickeys in his wake. And his thrusts were hard and fast just as she pleaded.

  “Sono la tua puttanella--I am your little whore!” she chanted over and over again until he groaned through his release. And she moaned with misery as his cock slowly melted inside of her. Giovanni withdrew. Mirabella was so sweaty, moisture dropped from her lashes and into her eyes, temporarily blinding her. Her pussy throbbed. Her ass throbbed. The muscles in her thighs felt strained. It was over too quickly. He moved away from her. She felt it rather than saw it. It took her several long minutes to gather her strength and try to locate him. Giovanni sat up on the side of the bed panting. He seemed winded, disoriented. He put his face in his hands as if to stabilize his beating heart. In the dark, she could see the outline of him. She sat up and struggled to capture her breath. She looked at the welts on his back. At some point, she had scratched him, and a few were speckled with blood. She'd hurt him. But didn't it feel good? It had to have felt good to be with her again. She eased off the bed and found her robe through her tears of confusion. She put it on and then went in search of her night shirt.

  "Stay," he commanded.

  "I should get back to the kids," she said and swallowed the urge to cry.

  "Stay, Bella. With me," he said.

  She glanced back. He looked so tired, and she felt his defeat. She walked around the bed and sat next to him. She took his hand. She held it. Maybe this was the time she should tell him about her nightmares. Stop pretending at being okay. They sat there staring toward the window in silence. Hand in hand, time slipped away before he finally spoke.

  "There's a doctor. A woman doctor in Firenze. I am thinking of bringing you to meet her."

  "I don't want any more doctors." She tried to pull her hand away as she felt the insult spark a charge of anger inside her. He refused to let her hand go. He squeezed it.

  "Per favore, Bella. For me. For the kids. See this doctor. She is not medical. She’s... a..."

  "A what?" Mirabella asked.

  "A psychologist," he said.

  "So, you agree with me. I am crazy?" she asked, and her voice broke with confusion.

  "I think some things have happened to you that you can't talk about with me. With any of us. I love making love to you. You know I do. But it's not enough. I feel it. Something is driving you away from letting me closer; I feel it."

  "I swear it's not, Gio. I swear Kei didn't do anything to me; he didn't rape me," she wept.

  “What? No. No, Bella, I didn’t mean that.”

  “I’m the same! The same! Right?”

  “Yes, sweetheart. Come here," he put his arm around her shoulder and held her, but it wasn't close enough. He guided her to his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shivered.

  "Is this what sex is about? You proving to me that you're the same?"

  "I guess," she said softly.

  "Oh Bella," he sighed.

  "I see it in my dreams; I think I do. He, he did things to me that you don't know. Things I don't want you to know."

  Giovanni held her close to him.

  “Sweetheart, you are fine.”

  “But you said the sex...
”

  "It's beautiful; It’s better than beautiful. You’re still my woman. Nothing has changed. I just want you to talk to me. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  “Hold me tighter. Tighter!” she said.

  He did. She shivered. She wept with her face buried against the side of his neck.

  “Let’s see a doctor,” he whispered.

  “You will let me see a psychologist and talk about us? Our family? Our marriage? Anything I want?”

  "I will do anything to save you, even from me," he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him.

  "Will you stop coming here, going on these trips, staying away from me?”

  He sighed.

  "Will you?"

  "It's business, Bella."

  "Liar."

  "I'm here, Bella."

  "No. You're gone most nights. You leave. And it scares me. And when you are here you come here to sleep instead of staying with me. You barely notice me. I want to know the truth. Is there another woman, Gio?" she choked on the words. "If there is, I deserve to know. Who is she?"

  His brows shot up in surprise. She regretted the question the moment it slipped from her mouth. It made her sound so pathetic. But men like him had mistresses. And wives like her sometimes drove them to them. She's tainted now. Even if they never spoke of it, they know what Kei did to her. They lost something pure. They both felt it.

  “Che cazzo--what the fuck! Why would you even think I’d do that?”

  “I dunno. The sex, I initiate it most of the time, and...”

  “Bella? Stop. You know me! You fucking know me damn it!”

  “I’m sorry,” she wept.

  "There is no other woman. There never will be. I've had a lot on my mind, so I needed space."

  "Kei? He's winning isn't he, Gio?" she asked. "From the grave, he's torturing me."

  This time, she feared his answer. She braced for it when he didn't speak quickly to deny it. She closed her eyes and her heart seized in her chest.