“The bathroom is through that door,” I said, as I walked past her toward the window, stifling my desire to grab Valentina, throw her down on the bed and fuck her from behind. She was my wife, and deserved at least some semblance of control from me. That I desired her made me already feel guilty. The whores I’d sought in Palermo had been chosen based on their sexual specialties, not their appearance. I hadn’t even given them more than a fleeting glance before I’d fucked them, but I had chosen Valentina, and even if I wanted to pretend it had been based solely on logic, I had to admit to myself that I’d found her desirable.
The soft click told me Valentina had disappeared in the bathroom. I braced myself against the window, staring out into the dark night, focusing on the way my groin tightened, on the desire stirring in my insides, on the dark hunger that screamed louder than sorrow and guilt.
When Valentina finally emerged, I was teetering on the edge. She cleared her throat, causing me to turn and take in the sight of her, dressed in a violet nightgown that hugged her curves. It was elegant and more modest than I’d expected. When my gaze finally settled on her face, I knew I wouldn’t find an outlet for my pent-up fury tonight, not because Valentina wouldn’t answer to my demands but because I couldn’t allow myself to act like that toward my wife, not when she looked at me with a hint of insecurity and shyness, and worse hope. Valentina may have lost a husband but she wanted me to take his place, to give her tenderness and love.
“You can lie down. I’ll grab a shower.” The words came out like an order but I didn’t take them back as I headed into the bathroom and closed the door from Valentina’s confused face.
I tore at my tie then thrust it to the ground before I removed my remaining clothes with the same violence. Only when I stepped inside the shower and released a long breath as the hot water poured down on me did I relax. I grabbed my cock, needing to get rid of the desire simmering under my skin. The woman waiting for me in our shared bed wanted something I couldn’t give her and she wasn’t ready yet to give me what I wanted. Soon she’d realize that this was a bond for outside appearances, no more. My release brought me little satisfaction, not that I’d expected it to, but when I returned to the bedroom fifteen minutes later, I felt more like myself, in control and calm. Valentina reclined on the bed, elegant, beautiful. My eyes took her in, could not stop, but again her expression reminded me why I had tried to control myself in the first place. I stretched out beside her, even though her scent crawled into my nose, calling to the desire I’d tried to quench. I met Valentina’s gaze as she stretched out beside me. She looked embarrassed and insecure, almost innocent, and it threw me off because I’d expected her to be different, because I’d married her in hopes that she’d be different.
“I have an early day tomorrow,” I said, turning off the lights.
Valentina’s even breathing sounded beside me and her scent still tantalized me, but in the dark, the past was stronger than my desire as memories resurfaced against the black canvas of the night. Carla’s sunken face, her raspy last breath, the fear and despair in her eyes, and finally the relief when it all ended.
I avoided my wife like a goddamn coward. I prided myself on my restraint but in her company, I was shown how wrong I’d been. Every new attempt from her to seduce me tore another chunk of my wall down.
Valentina didn’t give up. Part of me wanted her to keep up her pursuit until I lost my battle, the other, still stronger part, needed her to stop before I showed her why I’d avoided marriage for so long. Our first kiss awakened something in me I had trouble caging in, a hunger so unrestrained and wild, it threatened to awaken the parts of my nature that had no place in a marriage. And so I kept pushing her way. For my sake, but more than that: for her sake.
I stared into the dark fireplace. The last embers had died unlike the fiery anger inside of me. It was difficult to pinpoint the source of my anger. Most of it was directed at myself but a part was for the woman who didn’t deserve it. Valentina.
I resented her for the desire she stirred in me. She made me feel unhinged in a way I was unfamiliar with. I’d never experienced this kind of sexual desire, this need to consume someone.
The sound of heels on hardwood floor attracted my attention but I didn’t turn. Valentina hovered near the doorway, beautiful as always, a siren calling to my base instincts.
“Is it true that you frequented Club Palermo?”
My fingers around the whiskey glass tightened. I didn’t want to discuss the past, and even less be reminded of my primal needs. “It belongs to the Outfit, but that was a long time before our marriage.”
“So you didn’t mind the company of prostitutes, but you can’t take your own wife’s virginity?”
Shock blasted through my composure. I looked at Valentina. Virginity?
A desire so all-consuming it almost shredded my control took hold of me. With sheer force of will I reined it in.
Valentina fled the room.
With forced calm, I set the glass down and followed her, even if keeping my distance to my far too tempting wife was detrimental.
I found Valentina in the bedroom, staring out of the window. I approached her until I could see her tipped down face in the reflection.
“Virginity?” I asked, standing close behind Valentina who kept looking out of the window, trying to hide her face from me. “You and Antonio were married for four years.”
I thought of Valentina’s attempts to seduce me. She had appeared unpracticed and inexperienced but I had blamed it on her nerves about being with another man than her first husband. Now as I reflected on her actions more thoroughly, I realized that they could more likely be linked to her never having been with a man, but the question remained: why was she a virgin after having been married? “Valentina,” I said more firmly.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she whispered. “It was just a figure of speech. I didn’t mean it in the literal sense. As you said, Antonio and I were married for four years. Of course, I’m not a virgin.”
She was lying. I had no trouble detecting the lie and it raised my anger. Few people dared lying to me and they all paid a harsh price for it, but Valentina knew she was safe. Safe from the cruel nature of my being but that didn’t mean I didn’t have other ways to coerce the truth out of her. I touched her hip. She jumped in surprise and bumped into the windowsill with a gasp.
The feel of her warmth through her clothes had a stronger effect on me than I liked.
I focused on Valentina’s reaction, ignoring my own. “Turn around,” I ordered. Valentina turned to face me but she didn’t meet my eyes. I lifted her head, meeting those damn stunning eyes. As always, she shivered ever so slightly under my touch and that reaction went straight to my cock.
Valentina didn’t try to pull away or lower her gaze. She held mine almost stubbornly but her chin tensed. She was nervous, and not just because of our closeness. She held onto a lie. The question was, which one.
“So your words downstairs were simply meant to provoke?” I asked in a low voice. I hardly ever raised my voice, not even when I dealt with my soldiers, and I certainly wouldn’t when dealing with my own wife.
Valentina’s eyes watered and a tear rolled down her smooth cheek, bursting on my index finger. I let go of her. Tears didn’t bother me. I’d had grown men cry on their knees in front of me, but the sight of my wife’s turmoil caused an unpleasant twinge in my chest. Valentina withdrew herself from my closeness at once.