If this is the casual version of Gabriele, it's still not what you'd call relaxed.
He crosses the room and comes to a stop in front of me. My breath hitches as he reaches out and cups my face in one hand. His thumb moves slowly across my cheekbone. The gesture is tender, at odds with the dark desire in his eye. I stare at him for a moment.
In the pale yellow glow from my bedside lamp, his scars are less vivid, but now I have the chance to study him close up, I notice the puckering of flesh at the corner of his mouth where the skin pulls unnaturally tight. Does that bother him when he eats?
A black silk patch covers his ruined eye. I wonder if what lies beneath is really so bad. If he wears the patch because he's sensitive about how it looks, I don't want to ask him to show me.
Perhaps in time he'll trust me enough to let me see all of him.
"Let's get you out of this dress," he says eventually.
Taking me by the shoulders, he spins me around. He lowers the zipper, his fingers brushing over my skin as he draws it down to my waist.
I shiver beneath his whisper-soft touch, my body already humming with anticipation. He tugs the dress down over my hips and it slides to the floor. I step out of it and then turn to face him.
Holding my head high, I try not to squirm under his heated gaze as he admires me in my lacy white lingerie.
"Beautiful," he murmurs. "Now take it off."
Suddenly bashful, I hesitate to obey his command. On the few occasions I went to bed with Mikhail, there wasn't time to think. Our lovemaking was frantic. We tore at each other's clothes, barely pausing to strip as we got caught up in the moment.
This is different. I'm exposed in a way I never have been before.
"Katya." Gabriele's tone holds an edge of impatience. "I gave you an instruction."
"Yes, Gabriele."
At first, my fingers don't cooperate as I reach behind me to unhook the strapless bra. I fumble, and it's not until my third attempt that I manage to open it. I let the wisp of delicate fabric drop to the floor. Then I shimmy out of my matching panties.
As I stand before Gabriele completely naked, I struggle not to cover myself. I'm proud of my body. It takes work to keep it in shape and my many admirers over the years have confirmed my hours in the gym have paid off.
Suddenly, however, I'm worried my husband will find me lacking.
"Stunning." He dispels my fears a moment later. "Come here, dolcezza."
The endearment makes me smile.
Gabriele reaches out to touch my face once more. His thumb trails over my lower lip. I wait for what will be our first kiss since we skipped that at the church. It doesn't come, even though I part my lips to show willingness.
Instead, Gabriele spins me around again, banding an arm across my chest to hold me back against his. He's solid, muscular, but I don't kid myself he's safe.
In fact, trapped in his arms like this I'm more certain than ever he's dangerous.
As he kisses my shoulder then trails his lips toward my neck, I tilt my head to give him better access. His open mouth is warm against my skin and it sparks a restlessness in me.
He runs a hand down to cup my breast. He caresses the tender flesh then circles his finger over my nipple until it pulls up into a tight peak.
I whimper with the need for more and Gabriele chuckles darkly.
"I like these," he murmurs as his hand continues to knead my breast before continuing a downward path. He grabs my feminine mound with a harshness that startles me into a yelp. "And I like this very much."
He slides his fingers between my legs and gently parts my folds. He touches me with the assurance of a man who's learned over many years exactly what women like.
I gasp as he finds my clit and rouses it with his touch. I wriggle against him as he pushes two fingers inside me, then draws them back and forth at a lazy pace.
The way he alternates between softness and something rougher throws me completely off balance. I suspect it's meant to.
"You're already wet for me, dolcezza." His repetition of the pet name makes me smile. He's unhurried in his exploration ofmy most intimate parts but when I reach back to stroke his shaft, already hard beneath his pants, he tuts disapprovingly. I quickly withdraw my hand.
