"You are going to get so fucked, Signora Volante."
"Good," I say. "Get on with it."
Lifting my leg over his hip, Gabriele angles his thrusts, going deeper than before. He makes good on his promise and fucks me like he's trying to punish and reward me all at once. He grinds his hips against mine as he moves his cock inside me. I gasp and moan as the ripples of sensation become a wave I can't hold back.
I come, screaming his name, but he's not done with me. Getting to his feet, he drags me to the edge of the bed and pulls my feet up to rest on his shoulders. I dig my nails into the mattress beneath me as he plows into my body, helpless to resist his sensual onslaught.
It doesn't take long for another orgasm to build. It starts as a whisper, a fluttering in my pussy, and turns into a scream as I yell in ecstasy. Gabriele follows me a minute later, his hips jerking erratically. He pulls out of me and drops onto the bed beside me. I curl in toward him as he wraps an arm around my shoulder.
I prop myself up on my elbow and gaze down at him.
"You've been using the cream I bought you." The skin around his eye looks less irritated.
"Of course I have. I've used all the gifts you gave me."
"Not the cufflinks," I point out.
He considers that for a moment. "I've been waiting for the right occasion. I don't wear them every day."
"Okay, that's fair. So when will the right occasion be?"
"Tomorrow night, I suppose."
"What's tomorrow night?"
"A meeting at a club." He grimaces, clearly not looking forward to it. "Gianfranco Maroni."
"Don't you like him?"
"Never met him. He's running for mayor. He wants my endorsement." He pauses to reconsider. "Or more likely my money and influence."
By now I recognize the signs my husband is dreading something. He goes incredibly still and stares at a fixed point ahead of him. He closes his eye and breathes in deep. Holds it for the count of four and then releases the breath.
"Can I come?" I ask.
He turns his head. "You want to come to a meeting with a mayoral candidate?"
"I do love a spot of bribery and corruption over cocktails."
Gabriele frowns as he tries to work out whether to take me seriously. Then he nods.
"You can come if you want to."
"Good. I can't wait." I consider my wardrobe. "What does one wear to decide whether to fix an election?"
"Whatever you'd normally wear to dinner at a Michelin starred restaurant." He thinks for a moment. "Something blue."
"I can do that. I'll go shopping tomorrow." I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. There's something I haven't told him yet. "After I have lunch with my mother."
Gabriele pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He turns to me. "You're meeting your mother? When did that happen?"
"I called her this morning. Thought it was time to let her know where I am, what I'm doing."
"You didn't think to tell me before you called her?"
"It's my mother, Gabriele."
He nods. "Yes, your mother who's married to your father."
