Several hours have passed and we’re blissfully alone at last. I pull her into my arms when she steps out of the bathroom. “How were your classes today?” She flinches as if I threatened her life. “Francesca?”
“Do you really want to ask me about school right now?”
The familiar cheekiness in her tone might set me at ease, but she’s not looking me in the eye. My hand circles her wrist. Her pulse is racing. “What’s wrong?” Despite how our marriage began, lies and omittances are not something I want between us, and I’d rather take a saw-tooth blade to the guts than come home to find her crying again.
“We had a quiz in Italian. I’m worried I flunked it.”
I study her face, keeping my finger pressed to her pulse, but it’s true the Music Program emphasizes learning Italian since so much opera and music in general is written in that language, and she didn’t grow up with it being spoken at home as I did. “I promised to help tutor you, didn’t I?”
With an enthusiastic nod, she tugs me toward the bed. Lying together, I take my time worshipping her mouth with my own. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed the simple act of kissing this much. Never saw the point. Why bother with kissing for long when you can have your cock sucked? Yet, Ilovekissing Francesca, and she’s become a very good kisser since I tasted her lips for the first time. I praise her in Italian, and she shudders with every word. Peeling away her nightgown, I gaze at her body, huffing out more verbal devotion between panted breaths.
“Carlo? How do you say-”
I softly bite her nipple.“In Italiano, per favore.”
Her eyes flash. “Come dici…”
“That’s my good girl,” I rumble.
She sticks her tongue out but then starts to slide down the bed.“Come dici…I want to try something new.” Her eyes land on my cock, and the horny bastard twitches in excitement like it has a will of its own.
Arching an eyebrow, I tell my heart not to pound straight out of my chest. Yet. “That won’t help your pronunciation, but it’s not as though I’m going to refuse you.” Lying back, I gently tangle my fingers through her curls, not pushing, not demanding, simply to feel the softness of her hair. I’m content to let Francesca do whatever she wants. She hovers over my groin, licking her lips and casting those big blue eyes up at me as if she’s waiting for something. “Change your mind?” I ask, gruffly.
She gives me a bashful smile, nodding at my erection.“Aiutami?”
“Help you?” Another nod and a flood of primal possessiveness fills my dark soul. She’s never done this, and she’s seeking my guidance. “There’s nothing you can do I won’t enjoy… except biting it.” She giggles. “Lick around the tip.” Obediently, Francesca darts her pink tongue out and trails it over the head. I have the sheet in a death grip as my breath hitches. Better than me tugging at her hair or spilling like a fucking boy.“Bene, mia moglie.”She gives me a proud grin, making warmth blaze to life in my chest again. “Can you close your mouth over the head and suck lightly?”
She slides her lips over the tip of my cock, only taking about an inch into her hot, wet mouth. The women I’ve enjoyed before were neverso tentative, yet one gentle suck from Francesca blasts the memory of all those others to shreds. When she glances up and takes me in another inch, the spike of pleasure slamming through me threatens to overwhelm my steely control. I’m not even halfway in, but it doesn’t diminish the sensation as Francesca begins to bob up and down, experimentally.
She tries taking more and gags. I gently stroke her cheek with my thumb. “You could wrap your hand around the rest,” I suggest. She does at once, squeezing me just so when she licks the tip again. “I love seeing your pretty mouth filled with my cock,” I growl, possessively. She smiles and licks me from tip to base before nuzzling my balls. She surprises me next when she sucks one of them in her mouth.“Fuck…”
She quickly sits back. “Was that bad?”
“No, that was very, very good.” My thumb brushes across her plump bottom lip while she blushes furiously. “I want your pussy now.”
She relaxes and hurries to scoot up the bed, opening her arms to invite me in. And how very inviting every inch of her is. Silk sheets beneath me and my wife’s silkier skin, I move inside her, savoring the scent of lavender and sex in the air. I hitch her leg up higher as I adjust, wanting to go deeper. She arches her back, moaning my name.“Come dici…harder?”
“I could tell you, but there’s much to be said for non-verbal communication at times.” My hips pick up their pace. Tonight’s language lesson is on pause.
Sweat dots her brow as her fingertips glide over the scars on my back. She must have made a mental map of them by now, not that I mind. I slam into her harder, knowing she’ll surrender soon, and Iwon’t be able to help following her into that sweet void. A few final pumps and her pussy squeezes my cock as I grunt filth into her ear in two languages, unable to stop myself.
“I like being multilingual,” she says with a playful look once I’ve slid out of her and turned us so she’s lying on my chest. “I like these extra tutoring sessions, too.”
Chuckling, I brush back her damp red curls. “So long as I’m your only tutor when it comes to Italian and this.”
“Da never liked for me to speak it.”
I frown. “Did he teach you Gaelic instead?”
“No, he hardly spoke any, but he got very angry once when he heard me and Ronan practicing Italian together. Our cousins spoke it to some degree and Mom would when she was around them. Da hated not knowing what they were saying and said no children of his would have secrets from him. He bloodied Ronan’s nose and rattled my teeth with a hearty slap. We didn’t practice with him around after that. In time, we started to forget what we’d learned.”
Raw fury bursts through my post-climatic bliss, and my fists clench, longing to wreak violence. I’ve never forgotten her black eye the day Beppe was taken. If the information I’ve acquired proves accurate and Luca captures him, I’ll pay Donnelly back a thousand times over for every slap he ever gave this girl. “How old were you?”
“Six.”
Six. Younger than Giulia is now. The mere notion that my father might lay a hand on my baby sister has me eager to commit patricide… not that he would. That’s one thing about Father I respect - he taught his sons that while our lives would be filled with sin and violence we should never unleash our darkness on those we’re meant to protect.
“We’ll both rejoice in his death someday,” I mutter, still struggling to contain my rage.
