Another woman could do that for him.
Easily.
Look how easily, and soon that daughter of a whore started to beg to have his baby. It only took a deep look into her eyes and a gentle caress of his hand.
I laughed at the thought. I laughed and remembered the sting of tears rolling down my overheated face after he started to be tender to her. That was not me.
Tender. Or caring. Or loving.
Perhaps that was where my struggle came in. He needed both—tender and ruthless. I could only be one.
Rocco glanced at me from the side of his eye.
If he wanted me, he had to get used to my—I touched my temple—interesting mind.
I was so mad, though, that I wanted to claw her eyes out! She could take the tender and turn him soft. That was why I pushed for him to hurt her. To turn into the ruthless man I knew him to be. I wanted to see if he could lose himself in her as he would lose himselfin me. He did not. But perhaps…he could, if the right woman ever came along.
I waved my hand again, dismissing the thought.
So what if I was not drawn to his light but to his darkness? If he could not have both in me, at least the darkness would push him to be the most feared and respected man in the history of the Fausti family. And one thing I knew for certain about his family: the women made more of an impact on the history books than did the men.
And I was the wife, the queen, who would have his back when a man came at it holding the sword of an enemy, and I would be a reminder of how ruthless he was. I would tip him in that direction while his many mistresses tipped him in the other. In his veins, inside of his heart, I was his ruthless queen, and the other women were his sappy mistresses. He could make them cry with how tender his touch could be, cry out when he entered them in such pleasure and pain, sigh when he bathed them and laugh when he kissed their foolish mouths.
When he fucked me, he would remember who he was.
My king.
The future king of the Fausit family.
That place in his life could never be fulfilled by anyone but me.
I was born for that role.
Chapter 6
A Honeymoon for Five
My wife had told me before we arrived in Monaco that she had made a mistake inviting Freja into our marriage bed in Rome. However, I am a Fausti, and skilled at understanding what is being said even when it is not outright said but implied in the way words are set into a sentence. I understood that she might have been apologizing for that night, but the nights to come would be filled with invitations.
The first invitation came after we attended an art exhibition for my uncle’s son who was traveling around the world to showcase his talent. His medium did not speak to me, but he was a Fausti, and therefore, he would be talented at whatever desire fueled the flame in his heart.
My new wife was charming as she kept her arm around mine throughout the night, her shimmering yellow dress bringing thoughts of a canary to mind. If only canaries had beaks whittled down into knives that flew down from the sky.
Rosaria was approachableifthe man or woman held status; other than that, she did not feel the conversation was worth her time. She was not charming about her dislike if she felt that way. She allowed the truth to come through her tone.
Once we returned to the yacht, and after a candlelit dinner, Iwatched the horizon with a drink in my hand as Rosaria decided to shower. Removing my jacket, letting it hang over my arm, I loosened my tie as I left the dining area.
Donato stepped of the darkness, only the whites of his eyes shimmering, and gave a curt nod toward our suite. I sighed but did not comment.
Our room was dark, lit only by candlelight and the seemingly floating lights from the shore. I set my jacket on the lounge chair, removed my tie, and set it on top. As I walked toward the bar, I rolled my sleeves up.
A hand came over my left shoulder, followed by another hand on my right. My wife was to the left and a “friend” of hers to the right. Rosaria gave me a name, but I did not even bother to learn it. I was hoping whatever she got out of watching me fuck Freja was out of her system.
We were married.
Yet.
She wanted to watch me pleasure more than her.
