Moving my hand to my mouth, I realized it was shaking, but I wasn't afraid of him.
I desired him.
CHAPTER 11
NICO
Stayingup most of the night talking to Lorenzo also meant we indulged in the liquor a little too much. The sun hurt my eyes, and I pulled the sheets back over my head, the brightness stabbing through my eyelids like knives.
Lorenzo had been my father's closest friend and right-hand. After my father was killed, he'd taken care of my mother, and I could see how he looked at her. The devotion in his eyes, the way he moved closer whenever she entered a room. At first, it made me mad, but the more I realized he'd soothed my mom's heartache and made her smile again, I accepted their relationship.
A knock on my door startled me, and I groaned. "Come in." Slightly dreading who's coming through the door and what they want, I leave the sheet over my head like I'm five.
"Niccolò, get out of bed, it's your wedding day." My mother's voice managed to filter through the thin sheet, as if she were yelling in my ear. "Lorenzo is in no better shape this morning." She laughed and walked into my closet.
Flipping the blanket down, I sat up, careful not to uncover fully. "Mother, what are you doing in here?"
"Helping you get ready for your wedding." She walked out of the closet carrying one of the tuxedos. She held it up and frowned before shaking her head.
"You are aware I can pick my own clothes now." Her laughter flitted out of the closet, and I was transported back to when I was a child, when that sound filled this house every day. I missed her being close.
"I'm aware, but I suspect this will be your only wedding, so I am going to help you." She carried one of my Armani suits and laid it on the end of my bed, along with a shirt and tie. The fabric was dark, almost black. "Okay, get out of bed, and get ready." She crossed her arms and waited for me to move.
"You're going to have to leave, Ma. I won't get out of this bed while you're standing there."
She frowned, and I watched her face as she realized what I was saying. Frowning slightly, she sighed. "Just like your father. Pajamas never killed anyone." She shook her head and moved toward the door.
"Ma, can you take something to Emilia?" I reached over to the table beside me and grabbed a pen and paper. Quickly writing down what I wanted her to know, I folded it and handed it to my mom. "It's confidential."
"Anything for you, my boy." She smiled and, opening it, she looked back at me. "Let me tie your tie?" I saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears.
"Of course." I nodded, and she walked out of my room. Flopping back down on my pillow, I sighed.
"Get out of bed." She yelled from the other side of my door. "Shower too, you're oozing whiskey."
Flipping the blanket off me, I walked to the shower. The cold water was a momentary distraction from my thoughts of Emilia. From what today means, what tonight would bring.
Grabbing the soap, I made quick work of getting ready for the day. My hand brushed over my cock, and my thoughts were drawn back to my soon-to-be wife. The feel of her lips on mine, our bodies pressed against one another, and her jealousy seemed to rear its head suddenly. The way she'd staked her claim in front of Caterina was fierce and possessive. My cock sprang to life, and I groaned. Wrapping my hand around it, I pictured Emilia's mouth, her lips spread, taking me into her warm mouth. Those full, pouty lips wrapped around my shaft, her dark eyes looking up at me as she took me deeper.
Leaning against the wall, the water cascaded over my body, and I forgot all about the reason I was in the shower. Moving my hand over my cock, I imagined her kneeling in front of me, her wet hair flowing over her shoulders, and her delicate hands hanging onto my thighs. I could picture the way her nails would dig in, leaving marks. The way she'd moan around me, the vibration driving me insane.
I stroked faster, my breathing growing ragged. In my mind, she was eager, hungry for it. Her tongue was swirling around the head before she took me all the way to the back of her throat. The image of her gagging slightly, tears forming in those beautiful eyes, but never pulling away, made my cock throb in my hand.
My balls tightened, and I gripped my shaft tighter and pumped a few more times, my other hand braced against the tile. I imagined finishing in her mouth, watching her swallow every drop, licking her lips afterward like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. The thought pushed me over the edge, and I groaned and shot hot cum all over the floor of the shower. Rope after rope, my body shuddering with release.
Standing under the spray, I took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts before turning the water off. The fantasy lingered, making me wonder what tonight would actually bring. Would she be nervous? Defiant? Both? Grabbing the towel, I wrapped itaround myself and walked out into my bedroom. "What the fuck are you doing in here?" I looked at Antonio, who was sitting in a chair by the fireplace with his feet on my coffee table.
"Your mom wanted to know what was taking so long. Would you like me to tell her you were thinking of your fiancé?" His smirk was annoying.
"Fuck off, ass hole." I grabbed the socks off my bed and threw them at him. "One day this will be you, and I can't wait to sit there making fun of you." Picking up the suit mom had laid out for me; I tried not to think about the fact that I was about to get married. About the fact that after today, everything would change.
"Nope, not me. Bachelor for life, I can't worry about a woman at home." He puffed on the cigar between his fingers. The smoke curled upward, gray and thick.
"Should we place bets on that?" I asked, turning to stare him down.
"Sure, a hundred thousand?" He blew smoke rings, and I watched them disappear into the air like ghosts.
"That's a level of confidence I haven't seen in a long time."
