But that memory did give me the idea for getting out of the house today. And then there’s how he’s been bugging me about picking out a car. I just know he’s going to try and spend some absurd amount of money.
I don’t think I can handle it.
When I walk into the kitchen, dressed and ready for the day, Angelo turns toward me and then looks me over. I would have thought that he’s checking to see if what I’m wearing is appropriate, but the heat in his gaze tells a different story. He’s not looking at me with judgement; he’s looking at me with want.
And it makes my pussy tingle.
But now is not the time. I have a plan, and I can’t allow myself to be derailed by the promise of a good dicking.
And it is fucking good.
I’ve never had a man so attuned to my body and so determined to give me pleasure. I swear he makes a promise to himself to make me scream every time we have sex. It’s the only explanation for it happening.
I’m not at all upset by it. I welcome it.
Because it’s so fucking good. Every single time. And the man likes to be buried inside of me as often as possible.
It’s almost too much, but I’m not going to tell him that.
Frankly, I can’t stand the idea of him pouting because of it. He’s pitiful when he wants to be. Who would have thought?
“I have an idea of what we can do today,” I chirp.
He eyes me warily while I lean against the counter in the kitchen. When I glance at the kitchen island all I can think about is him being on his knees in front of me and making me come with his mouth. I have to look away as I feel my cheeks heating at the memory.
My cheeks aren’t the only thing that get hot, but we don’t have time for that right now. Even though the hungry look in Angelo’s eyes tells me he would be more than willing to give me a repeat performance.
I have to fight against the shiver that runs up my spine at the promise of pleasure in his gaze as he looks me over. I’m dressed casually today in my clothes. I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely comfortable wearing a lot of the things Angelo got me for Christmas.
All of the items are so nice, and they fit like a dream, but they’re almosttoo nice. I’m not used to having things that are so expensive and luxurious. It almost feels wrong that they’re mine.
But I know Angelo wants to see me in those items. I’m working on it.
At least I have our initial necklace on. His eyes dart down to it, and I can see the satisfaction written all over his face. I almost roll my eyes, but I hold myself back because I can’t exactly deny how much I like his possessiveness. And not just because it makes me wet.
The way he wants me, the ownership he has over me, makes me feel safe for the first time in my life. It makes me feel wanted.
Who cares if I’m ignoring all of my man’s red flags?
And, yes, he is my man. I’ve come to accept it over the last few days. I just haven’t told him because he’ll be far too smug. It’s better to keep a man like Angelo on his toes.
“What were you thinking,la mia pace?” Angelo’s question is filled with curiosity.
I’m barely able to stop myself from smiling and keep my face blank. “Well, if I’m going to be with you,” I start.
Angelo cuts me off with a growl, “What do you mean ‘if’, Dove?” His eyes bore into mine, his obsession with me simmering just under the surface. I can almost see it wrap around him and prod him to move closer to me. He even takes a step which causes my lip to twitch in amusement. “There is no if,” he insists, “you’re mine.”
“Yes, well,” I say dismissively and wave my hand as if to brush away his words. From the way he narrows his eyes, he doesn’t like it one bit. The way his full lips press together in an unimpressed scowl is hot as hell. “As I was saying,” I start again and narrow my eyes at him with a warning not to interrupt me, “if I’m going to be with you, then I’d like to be better prepared forChristmas next year. While you did a good job decorating, we’ll need more for next year.”
“We’ll just get what we need then,” he says dismissively.
I scoff and shake my head. “No way. The best time to stock up on decorations is right now. Everything will be on sale, and we’ll find some great bargains.”
His eyebrows furrow in the most adorable way. I can almost see the way he’s replaying my words in his head, but they don’t make any more sense the second time around than they did the first.
“Dove,” the confusion is clear to hear in his voice, “you don’t need to shop for bargains.”
“Everyone should shop sales.” I look him over with disapproval. “A deal is always better than paying full price. Are you sure you’re a businessman?” I can’t help but tease him mercilessly.
