We strolled inside arm in arm, and the beauty stopped me in my tracks. The entire place looked to be as old as it was, but it was somehow preserved in time, like something I could imagine an Italian Phantom hiding out in.
The rich crowd meandered in the lobby before the show, and a few people stopped Nazzareno to talk to him. A few were inquiring about his airline. Others were asking about his family. A few women fluttered their lashes at him and smiled shyly as we walked past. He acted as if he didn’t even notice them.
I was waiting for someone to ask about his fiancé or the wedding, but no one did.
We took our seats, and after the lights went down and the opera started, I could feel his eyes on me. The show was moving, more so than I thought it was going to be. It almost felt like baseball. I was never much of a fan of watching it on the television, kind of like watching paint dry, but in person—it was thrilling. I knew how that sounded even in my head, comparing a sport to the classical opera, but…it fit.
Nazzareno released my hand, and his started to creep underneath the slit in my gown. I blinked at the stage and then blinked at him. His eyes were lowered, the bright lights in the dim theater making them seem more light olive in color, and I sighed out a breath at the intensity.
His hand crept even further up, and I relaxed in my seat some, closing my eyes as he bypassed my underwear and started to rub me between the legs.
The music seemed even louder over the thundering of my heart, and as the notes rose and fell, so did the tempo of Nazzareno’s fingers as they mimicked them. My body ignited, and I gripped the arm rest of my seat, holding on and trying to control my breathing as his finger slid up and down.
My blood was a rush of fire to mycucchia, and I was soaking wet and pulsating, my body trying to put it out.
My hips were almost pulsing up to meet his insistent touch. My breaths were coming in pants, and sweat coated my body. What made it even more exceptional was that my mind was turned off, but the music still played as he became the conductor to my body.
Rosaria Caffi hit an exceptionally high note, and so did I. I screamed out when my body shattered like glass, and the pleasure rushed in and swallowed me whole. Except…when Rosaria’s voice came down, the end of my scream seemed to echo in the theater.
The crowd got to its feet right after, applauding.
Nazzareno stood with them.
Except he was applauding me.
* * *
As Nazzareno led me backstage to meet Rosaria Caffi, I walked in a haze.
He had just made my entire body hit a note high enough to crack bone.
I was pretty sure the entire house had heard the end of my orgasm.
How was this my life?
“This is different,” he said casually, people dodging us as we walked through what still seemed like a chaotic backstage.
“What is?” I croaked out.
“You are quiet.”
I hit him on the arm, and he exploded with laughter.
“I can’t believe you did that to me—right then.”
“Some people feel the music underneath the skin, and some people only on the surface.” He shrugged. “I made you feel it deeply.”
Couldn’t argue with that. I’d never hear opera music again and not get turned on.
We slowed before we came to Rosaria Caffi’s private dressing room. A few people loitered outside of it. Brando and his wife Scarlett, Rocco, Dario and his wife Carmen, and Romeo and Juliette.
“Shit,” I breathed, thinking of the last time I’d seen Rocco, Brando, and Scarlett. Both times, I was not where I was supposed to be—on the outside, with the press.
Nazzareno stepped up to them, greeting his cousins and their wives. He introduced me. Even though his cousins were beyond fine-looking men, there was nothing there I was attracted to.
Nazzareno was the only man who had pull in my life.
I took a deep breath when it was time to come face to face with Scarlett again. Her green eyes were just as unnerving as they were the night of the event. Even more so because I wasn’t loaded on something that asshole had given me. I felt the true power of her stare, but to my surprise, she shook my hand warmly and smiled at me.
