Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles Book 2)

KIARA

Nino stirred beside me, and my eyes peeled open. Just like I had the last few mornings since our dinner, I was snuggled up to him at night and wedged myself under his arm, my head in the crook of his neck, my knees pressed up against his side. His warmth and comforting scent wrapped around me and managed to banish the nightmares.

“Sorry,” I murmured like I did every morning because I was fairly sure that the position couldn’t be comfortable for Nino, but he never pushed me away. I sat up, freeing his arm.

“Your subconscious seeks protection at night, and I can provide it,” he said with a shrug as he stood. The tight briefs did nothing to hide the outline of him.

I forced my eyes away from it, my heart thudding faster. He grabbed his swim trunks and went into the bathroom to change, but he didn’t close the door. It was only for my benefit that he didn’t undress in the bedroom. I had considered telling him that I could deal with his nakedness, but every time I was on the verge of saying those words, my courage left me.

Getting up as well, I grabbed my satin dressing gown. It wasn’t because it was cold but because I felt uncomfortable walking around the house in only my nightgown.

Nino returned and opened the door for me. Grabbing my book from the nightstand, I followed him in silence down the stairs and out through the French doors. It was already warm outside. I settled on the lounge chair close to the pool and opened my book, but my eyes weren’t drawn to the letters on the page. Instead, I watched as Nino stepped up to the edge of the pool and dove in, his muscles flexing as he did.

He swam his laps in the pool, and I observed him over my book from my spot on the chair. Eventually, I had to remove my robe because the sun relentlessly beat down on me despite the early hour.

Sometimes I felt ridiculous for even bringing a book with me. I hardly ever read a word. My gaze was drawn to the man in the water. The book was like my safety shield because I was too cowardly to admit that I enjoyed seeing Nino—and definitely too terrified of him finding out that I did.

After thirty minutes, he swam over to the ladder and climbed out. Water dripped off him and down his sculpted body. My eyes trailed from his muscled shoulders, down to his eight-pack and his narrow hips to his muscled thighs. His tight swim trunks hardly hid his body, and I could see the outline of him beneath the wet fabric again. The horrid tattoos, with their flames, agonizing faces, and words of pain and blood that ran from his forearms up over his shoulders down to his pecs and around to his shoulder blades didn’t scare me any more like they had done in the beginning. Nino was a piece of art.

His movements were unhurried and exact as he rubbed himself dry. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His cool, gray eyes met mine, and I sucked in a sharp breath and quickly looked back down on my book. When his shadow fell over me, I had no choice but to stop pretending I was reading. I hadn’t paid attention to my book in a while.

“You pretend to read but you watch me every morning,” he said. There was no judgment in his voice.

I wasn’t sure what to say. Embarrassment crawled up my neck. “I—I didn’t…” I began to protest but upon raising my head, his expression silenced me. He knew I’d been watching him. Of course he’d noticed. This was a man who had been raised to watch his surroundings. Denying it would have been ridiculous.

“You can watch. You are my wife,” he said. He tilted his head down, his eyes searching my face, and it felt like he could read my every thought. A few distracting droplets of water trailed down his beautiful face. What millions of male models probably had to practice for years, that cool, otherworldly expression, came naturally to him. “But I wonder why you do it. I thought my body scared you.”

It still did. Nino oozed strength. But fear had become a very small part of what I felt when I watched him. There was also that flicker of curiosity in the pit of my stomach and the burst of warmth deep inside of me when he moved in a way that accentuated his muscles.

I put down my book on the small side table, not sure how to say what I wanted to say and not sure I should even consider saying it. Some doors should stay closed. But what was holding me back—and would perhaps always hold me back if I let it—was something forced upon me in the past, something I wanted to be freed of.

“Sometimes I wonder how it would be to be more like husband and wife,” I admitted despite the heat in my cheeks, despite the spike of fear and worry about Nino’s reaction. Falcone or not, he had never given me reason to be truly fearful of him.

“You mean in a physical sense?” Nino asked in a low voice. There was the hint of something in his tone that I couldn’t place, but as usual, his face didn’t reveal anything.

I nodded, releasing a tense breath. I hadn’t thought I’d dare admit it, but Nino was always in control. I didn’t have to fear an emotional outburst from him. Sometimes I felt like I didn’t have to fear him at all.

He put down the towel, allowing me to view the length of him. I followed the invitation and slowly trailed my gaze over every inch of him. He didn’t move, but his stare was an insistent presence on my skin. “We could explore the physical options of our relationship, if you like. To be honest, I want you.”

He’d told me so before, but it still scared me. I glanced down at my hands, fumbling with the hem of my nightgown. Only one man had ever wanted me, and he’d taken what he wanted without asking. Nino wasn’t like that. He could have had me on our wedding night and every night since. There was certainly nobody who could have stopped him, least of all me.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

I sighed. “I’m scared.”

“Did I give you reason to be scared?”

I looked back up at his attentive face. “No, but I’m scared because you want me, and because I want you, but I don’t know if I can do it.”

“We can set limits, and we can go step by step.” He paused, his expression becoming contemplative. “If my physical strength unsettles you, we could try to have me restrained. I don’t mind.”

My mouth opened in shock. “You mean have you tied up?” Images of Nino with silk ties bound to the headboard entered my mind and almost had me laughing out loud. It seemed impossible that a man like him would suggest something like that.

Nino nodded. “That way you’d be free to explore without having to fear me.”

“But then I would have to lead.”

“Isn’t that what you’d prefer, given your past experiences? I have no trouble being dominant, but I doubt you’d react well to it.”

I wasn’t sure what to do. It seemed like the perfect solution, but it still terrified me, only now for a different reason.

“Have you ever reached climax?” he asked quietly, still staring at me with his quiet scrutiny.

My eyes widened, and I gave a jerky shake of my head. My stomach plunged into an abyss as I remembered how it had felt to have him in me. “All I felt was pain … and shame.”

He lightly grazed my shoulder, the touch warm and gentle. How could he always be so warm when his face was so beautifully cold? “I didn’t mean when you were raped. I mean later. Did you ever touch yourself and feel good?”

I bit my lip, trying to shake off the memories and focus on the present. “Not really. I tried to touch myself a few times, but it felt wrong.”

Nino surprised me when he perched on the edge of the lounge chair, his bare back brushing my naked calves. I didn’t pull away, and I had a feeling it was an attempt for him to see if I could stand his closeness. “It would be good if you explored your body and figured out what you like and conditioned your brain to realize that sexual touch can be very pleasurable.”

My face became impossibly hot, even when Nino looked as if we were talking about what we’d have for dinner tonight.

“I’m not sure my body is capable of finding anything pleasurable,” I whispered.

Nino angled his body to the side and slowly reached for my ankle. I tensed briefly, more out of confusion than anything else. He paused, his eyes narrowing, and when I relaxed, his fingers brushed my ankle before he cupped my heel. He began to apply light pressure with his fingers as he stroked the underside of my calf and looked into my eyes. His fingers never reached higher than my calf, but the touch seemed to send tingles up my knee, my thigh, and straight to my core.

My eyes wandered over to Nino as he stroked me, over his strong arms, his muscled chest, and his ripped stomach. After a while, my breathing picked up, and the tingling increased until I could feel wetness gather between my legs. Startled, I rocked my hips lightly.

Nino let go of my calf, his mouth curling at the corner. “I think your body will adjust well to pleasure.”

My cheeks heated even more, but more than embarrassment, I felt relief. Nino swallowed once before he murmured, “Now that your body is already aroused, it would make sense for you to explore yourself.”

“You want me to touch myself?”

“Yes,” he rasped. “Not here. Somewhere private, where you feel relaxed. I would recommend you focus on your clit at first. Try to rub it lightly with two fingers, and if you feel close to release, you can try to dip a bit lower and give your labia some attention. That’s a spot many women are very sensitive, some even favor it over their clit. I don’t think you will feel comfortable with a finger inside you yet, but it would add to the overall pleasure.”

My center had become warmer and even wetter, hearing his deep voice.

“It would also help if you imagine something that arouses you.”

“You,” I burst out, feeling suddenly emboldened.

Nino heaved a deep breath and something in his eyes shifted. “If that helps, yes. Imagine me.” His voice had dropped lower than ever before, and a slight stiffness had taken hold of his upper body. Confused, I was about to ask if I had offended him somehow when I registered the way his swim trunks tented.

I sucked in a breath. A flicker of fear coursed through me, but I was far more curious than afraid.

“I told you I desire you,” he murmured. “And if you want to explore physical options, you’ll have to get over your fear of my erection.”

“I’m not scared,” I said then amended my words because of his no lying rule. “Mostly.”

He rose to his feet, and again, my eyes were drawn to his groin area. “Why don’t you go into our bedroom and do what I suggested and find some relief?”

“What about you?”

“I’m going to seek relief as well,” he said matter-of-factly.

Would you prefer if I sated my sexual drive somewhere else? I’d said yes on our wedding night.

“Where?” I asked.

He didn’t say anything, only watched me with cold intensity.

I stood as well because it made me feel stronger, even if Nino still towered a head over me. “I don’t want you to seek out other women anymore.”

There. I said it. And relief washed over me. It had bothered me for a while, ever since I realized I wanted this marriage to be more than about necessity. I wasn’t sure how they handled things here in Las Vegas, if maybe he never meant to be faithful, if he expected to keep sleeping around simply because he could, but it wasn’t something I could ever accept if we really moved our relationship to a physical level.

Nino regarded me. “So you want me to seek you out to satisfy my sexual needs?” His voice held a strange note, and he took a step toward me.

There was the hint of curiosity in his eyes. This was him conducting an experiment, I realized. I’d learned to read him much better. I stood my ground and didn’t back away. He moved even closer until I could almost feel the heat radiating off his body. He wasn’t touching me.

“Eventually, yes,” I said quietly. “Obviously I’m not able to do it yet.” To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to do it, but I wanted to.

“So until you feel ready, you suggest I get myself off with my own hands?”

I frowned. Was he mocking me? Or being serious? It was so hard to tell because he’s said it dryly, without the hint of emotion. Suddenly, I felt foolish for having brought up the matter. This was Las Vegas, he was a Falcone, and despite his consideration toward me so far, he was still a man used to having women, money, and power at his disposal. Why should he give up one for me? I meant nothing to him. I was a pawn in this game for power.

I looked away, unable to bear his cold beauty. Turning around, I was about to leave when he stepped in my way. My eyes flew back up to him.

“Answer me, Kiara. Is that what you suggest?”

Sighing, I nodded. “I know how things are. I know your clubs are filled with willing women, but yes, I want you to be faithful to me. I can’t explore physical closeness with you as long as you see other women.”

“You realize that you can’t explore your sexuality with anyone but me.”

“Is that so?” I wasn’t sure why I said that.

And for once, Nino let his expression become the one most people knew, one of dominance and suppressed violence. “It is. I won’t ever push you past your boundaries, but just because I haven’t claimed your body with my cock yet doesn’t mean I haven’t laid claim on you. You are mine. Mine alone. And for as long as I live, no one will touch you but me.”

It was the least restrained I’d ever seen him, and it reminded me of the man he really was. I felt overwhelmed and on the verge of taking flight.

Nino let out a harsh breath and took a step back from me then sank down on the chair.

I blinked. Was he making himself small on purpose? He was watching me closely.

“Better?” he asked quietly, in control again.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Didn’t we agree on no lies?” I asked teasingly.

Nino’s mouth twitched. “We did. And you are right to some extent. I knew you’d yield to my view of things if I exerted dominance, and given your history, I could foresee how it would make you feel. But it wasn’t a conscious decision to scare you.”

“Okay.”

His brows pulled together. “When I first suggested satisfying my sexual drive elsewhere, you were relieved.”

Back to the topic at hand. Nino never let himself be distracted.

“I was, but I don’t want that anymore. I want us to have a real marriage.”

“Isn’t this a real marriage? It’s official, after all.”

I shook my head. “That’s not what I mean. I want a normal marriage. For me that means being faithful and being intimate only with your partner. It means taking care of each other, showing affection, trying to love each other.” The last slipped out because it was something I wanted deep down inside.

Nino pushed to his feet again and moved closer. “I can be faithful and I can show you affection …”

“But you can’t love, I know.”

Nino startled me by cupping my cheeks, his eyes warmer, his expression softer than ever before. “I can simulate emotions very well, Kiara. If it helps you feel more comfortable, I can fake affection and even love.”

I peered up at him. Without his words, I would have believed the tenderness on his face to be real. I swallowed hard. “Don’t pretend to care for me. Don’t lie.”

His expression became one of cold beauty again, and my heart clenched tightly. “I want to take care of you, and even if I can’t feel emotions, seeing them on your face, particularly happiness and joy, give me a certain level of satisfaction. I can’t give you more than that.”

“Okay,” I whispered, because there was nothing else to say. It had to be enough. I’d expected so much less out of this union, and so much worse. I couldn’t hold it against Nino that he couldn’t feel.

“Would you like to go inside now?”

“I don’t think I’m in the mood for exploring anymore,” I said quietly.

He tilted his head. “I understand.”

“Maybe later?” I asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said. “How about I get dressed and we practice your shooting skills some more.”

For him it was always easy to move on because no topic ever moved him so much his brain couldn’t proceed, but I didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of this than it was so I nodded.

He returned thirty minutes later in black pants and a black shirt, his go-to clothes. I had seen him in similar clothes so often before, and yet the sight got to me today. He looked tall and strong and graceful, and the tattoos on his arms created just the right contrast to his perfectly beautiful face.

Two guns hung from the holster strapped to his chest, but I knew he hid more weapons on his body. I had become a better shot over the course of our last few lessons, but today my concentration was frayed.

A few hours later, I sat in our living room and played the song I’d started working on almost six weeks ago. It was a song that helped me deal with my marriage with Nino, helped me understand my feelings toward the man. The breeze streamed in through the windows, and I breathed deeply. I missed the scent of ocean in the air, but Las Vegas’ warmth felt good. I didn’t feel constantly cold anymore.

“What song is that?”

My fingers jerked against the keys and the piano released a low whine in response.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Adamo said as he stepped into the room through the open French doors.

I relaxed and smiled. “It’s okay. I startle too easily.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded toward the piano. “You can keep playing. I like to listen.”

Had he listened to me play before? I settled my fingers lightly on the keys and began where I’d left off when he’d startled me. He moved closer and propped up his elbows on the wing. A bruise bloomed on his left cheekbone, and his lip was busted. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him without a busted lip.

“What happened to your face?”

“My brothers practice fighting with me.”

“When will you be inducted?”

He looked down at his bloody knuckles. “In two months. August. On my fourteenth birthday.”

“But you don’t want to?”

Adamo shrugged. “I’m a Falcone. The Camorra is my destiny.” His brows drew together. “But I don’t want to do most of the things expected of me.”

“Kill people.”

“That,” he agreed, a dark look passing over his face. “I already did. Kill someone. Shot him. I’m a good shot.”

I nodded and stopped playing again.

“I don’t enjoy killing, and I don’t want to torture people or hurt women,” he whispered.

“Then don’t,” I said and realized how stupid I was. Adamo couldn’t choose his path, not as others could.

He pressed out a laugh. “I have to.”

“What would you rather do?”

His eyes lit up. “Race cars.”

“You can drive a car?”

“Remo let me drive his car when I was eleven, and I managed to sneak into a few races since then. I crashed two of his cars. He was majorly pissed, and now he keeps a closer eye on me so I can’t do it anymore.”

“Is that why you are sulking around the gardens and listening to me play?” I asked with a smile.

“I’m supposed to watch you.”

I burst out laughing then quieted at the indignant look on his face. I still found it funny that the youngest Falcone was supposed to be my bodyguard. “Sorry.”

“I’m a good shot and a decent fighter, and it’s not like someone is going to attack our mansion. It’s the safest place in Vegas.”

“Because people are terrified of Remo.”

“And Nino,” Adamo added then curled his lips in disgust. “Since he fought his first official cage fight, Savio’s even cockier than before. He thinks he’s as scary as them, but he’s not. Not even close.”

“Agreed. Nobody does scary as well as Remo and Nino,” I said. Luca had been terrifying, but maybe because I’d known him from a young age, I could deal with his brand of scary better than that of the Falcones.

“Yeah,” Adamo murmured and then became serious, his brown eyes hesitant. “Is Nino nice to you?”

I pursed my lips. Nice wasn’t really a term I’d use for Nino. “He is …”

“Present,” Nino drawled, making me jump and Adamo as well.

I turned toward his voice. He was leaning in the doorway, tall and cold, muscled arms crossed over his chest. For once he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattoos.

“You should be doing homework or work on your knife skills,” Nino said, pushing off the wall and striding toward us.

Adamo jutted his chin out, but he didn’t protest. “Bye, Kiara,” he muttered before he walked out of the French doors.

Nino propped his hip up against the piano as he always did, and my eyes took in the way his pants accentuated his muscled legs, the way his shirt clung to his torso. “And am I being nice to you?”

I nodded, but I couldn’t stop looking at him and remembering his suggestion from this morning.

“Would you like to go to our bedroom and explore?” he asked calmly.

Despite the heat in my cheeks, I nodded. Nino straightened and held out his hand for me to take, and I did as always. His fingers curled lightly around me but in a way that suggested I could pull away any time. With a deep breath, I got up from the bench, startling slightly as his thumb pressed against my wrist. Why did he always do that?

My eyes trailed over his muscular, inked forearm as I followed him upstairs. The moment we stepped into our bedroom and my eyes landed on our bed, my pulse began racing in my veins.

Nino peered down at me. “Fear or arousal … or both?”

“What?” I asked confused.

He pressed his thumb against my wrist. “Your pulse picked up.”

“That’s why you always touch me there?”

“It’s a good indicator of your mood and helps me figure out your emotions combined with your expression and breathing.”

I laughed then quieted when he led me closer to the bed. Nino raised one eyebrow.

“Both,” I admitted.

He sank down on the bed, tugging me along so I’d stand before him. “It would be good if we could manage to reduce one and increase the other.”

“Which one would you like to increase?” I said in the same scientific tone as he had used.

His mouth twitched. “Well,” he began in a low voice. “Fear would be easier to increase than arousal with you being you and me being me, but I prefer difficult tasks. Which do you prefer?” He raised my hand to his lips very slowly, his eyes never leaving my face, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to my pulse-point then trailed his tongue over it.

A small shiver passed down my spine. How was it possible I could feel that all the way between my legs?

He regarded me intently. “Fear?”

I shook my head, my tongue heavy.

“Both?”

I considered that and gave a hesitant shake of my head.

Nino’s eyes became even more intent. “Are you sure?”

I wasn’t because he evoked sensations in my body I’d never felt, but the tingling between my legs had increased, and I felt hot and wet down there. “No.”

Nino nodded. “Let’s try to change that. Okay?”

Good Lord, he sounded so sure of himself, as if he just knew he would make it good for me.

NINO

Kiara’s pulse rate spiked again. “Okay.”

Releasing her hand, I reached for the top drawer of my nightstand and pulled out the handcuffs I’d stored there.

Kiara released a choked laugh. A quick scan of her face told me she was nervous.

“I don’t usually have cuffs in my drawer,” I said before she could draw conclusions that would unsettle her. I’d never seen the appeal to restrain myself like that and preferred to dominate in bed, so I never allowed a woman to do it, and the other way around would have made as little sense because I didn’t need cuffs to restrain anyone. “I put them there after we talked this morning.”

Kiara bit her lip, but she didn’t react in any other way.

“I can cuff one of my hands to the headboard. What do you say? That would give you a sense of safety, don’t you think?”

“I think so,” she said hesitantly.

“Would you like me to undress?”

She shook her head quickly. “No.”

I regarded her closely. “Kiara. We don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. I’m just a bit overwhelmed by the situation that’s all.”

I nodded and moved back on the bed until my back rested against the headboard and then cuffed my left hand to it.

Kiara hadn’t moved from her spot.

“What would you like to do first?”

She flushed, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. What would you suggest?”

She was sending out mixed signals. On one hand she was scared of losing control, but on the other hand she needed me to take control. “How about we start with kissing?”

Her eyes darted to my lips, the blush on her cheeks darkening as she nodded. She climbed on the bed. I tried to sit as relaxed as possible, my legs crossed at the ankles and my unrestrained arm lying in my lap while I watched her. Her eyes on my face, she moved closer until she was kneeling beside me, her knees pressing up against my hip.

I didn’t move.

She exhaled softly. “I’ve never kissed before.”

“It’s not difficult, Kiara, trust me.”

She gave me a look I couldn’t place. “Easy for you to say. How many women have you kissed?”

I couldn’t see how that was of any relevance. “One hundred and twelve. I don’t kiss every woman I fuck.”

She choked. “You’ve slept with more than one hundred women?”

“Yes. I was a late bloomer in comparison to Remo and Savio. Had my first woman at almost fifteen.”

“Then I had my first time before you,” she said bitterly, swallowing hard and staring down at the bed.

I lifted my hand and nudged her chin up to see her expression. “You haven’t had your first time yet. What you had doesn’t count. What we are going to do has absolutely nothing to do with what you experienced.”

Her eyes watered, and I dropped my hand, unsure if my words had upset her, but she scooted closer and hesitantly brought one hand up to my shoulder. “How can you say things that make me feel better when you don’t even understand what I feel?”

“I’m stating facts. That’s all.”

She laughed. “Facts.” Then her eyes lowered to my mouth, and she licked her lips. I doubted she noticed, but the sight had an immediate effect on my cock.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked her.

She nodded but didn’t move.

“Kiara, if you want to be in control, you actually have to take control.” She was a woman I’d have pegged as the submissive type in bed, and under normal circumstances I’d have naturally taken the lead, but as long as she was caught in the memories of her rape that would have ended badly.

She finally leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine, eyes closing. I would have preferred for her to keep them open so I had a chance of reading her, yet as it was I had no choice but to trust she’d pull back if something unsettled her.

Her lips were very soft and the pressure was light, almost nonexistent like our kiss on our wedding day. Resisting the urge to pull her closer and show her how good kissing could feel, I let her be in control. After a moment, she pulled back with a frown, her skin reddening. “This feels odd because you aren’t moving.”

“I wanted to let you be in control.”

“It’s okay if you take the initiative and lead because you know what to do and I don’t, and it’s making me nervous.”

I regarded her, not exactly sure what she needed me to do. “We had me restrained so you’d feel in control.”

“Yes, and that’s okay, but I want you to kiss me as you normally would.”

“Normally, I lead.”

She bit her lip again. Nerves. I reached for her wrist and pressed my thumb against it. She huffed out laughter. “You can lead … I mean, you can lead without being all dominant and rough.”

“I won’t be rough with you, Kiara. And if you ever feel like I’m being too dominant, you tell me and I will adapt my behavior, all right?”

She smiled slightly, but her pulse spiked up anyway. She was very difficult to read. “Can we try again?”

“Of course. I’m going to touch your back.”

Again a spike in her pulse rate. I released her wrist and put my hand on her lower back and began rubbing it lightly with my thumb. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was soft under my touch. She leaned slightly forward until her lips almost touched mine.

Deciding to see if me taking lead would work, I caught her lips with mine, applying more pressure than she had and nudged her lips with my tongue. She parted them without hesitation and I dove in. Her taste and the soft warmth of her mouth went straight to my cock. She submitted to the kiss without hesitation, following my lead.

She yielded so easily to my demands, so readily, I knew she would continue to do so if we moved further, and it made me want to do just that, but I reined myself in.

I widened my strokes on her back, brushing over her spine. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, tightening her hold on my shoulder. Her other hand pressed up against my chest, grazing my nipple, and I kissed her a bit harder.

Moving my free hand up her back, I wanted to cup her head, but the moment I touched her neck and my fingers slid into her dark waves, she jerked back. “No,” she whispered quickly.

I pulled my hand away, seeing the remnants of panic on her face. It wasn’t a touch I’d considered problematic, so her reaction surprised me.

“Your hair?”

She gave a quick nod. “And my neck.” She swallowed. “My uncle … he held me there … He held me down when he forced me to …” She looked at me with despair. I had no trouble reading it on her face, and I didn’t have to touch her wrist to know her pulse was racing because she remembered how her bastard of an uncle had forced her to suck his cock when she was only a child. And once again, I wished I had prolonged his torture. He had suffered thoroughly under mine and Remo’s hands, and yet it didn’t seem enough.

“I understand,” I said.

She shivered helplessly, and then she just fell forward, catching me by surprise as she pressed her face into the crook of my neck and began shaking. I touched her back and her shaking got worse. Then something wet hit my skin. She was crying.

“Kiara?”

She clung to my shoulders and I wrapped my free arm around her. She pressed even harder into me. I let her cry herself out. Maybe it would help her. Pulling back, she kissed me softly, her eyes probing as if she was searching for something. I returned the kiss, tasting her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment.

“For what?”

“For becoming emotional.” She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. Then she opened them again and nodded toward the cuff. “Where’s the key?”

“Drawer.”

She leaned over me and gave me a look at her round, firm butt. My body definitely reacted strongly to her assets. She unlocked the handcuff. “I think I’m going to take a bath.” I didn’t stop her as she retreated into the bathroom.

Instead, I walked out and headed for our gaming room. Remo was there, sprawled out on the sofa, watching the latest cage fights in Roger’s Arena.

He glanced toward me as I sank down on the armchair, reached for the bottle of bourbon on the table, and poured a glass.

Remo nodded toward my wrist, which had red marks from the metal cuffs. “What happened there? Already getting kinky with your wife?”

“Kiara’s scared of my physical strength, so I cuffed myself to the bed.”

Remo leaned back, eyebrows raised. “As if that would stop you.”

“It wouldn’t, but she feels safer, and that’s what this is about. She needs to feel comfortable around me.”

Remo narrowed his eyes. “So you still haven’t fucked her?”

I took a sip of the bourbon. “We didn’t progress beyond kissing, so no.”

Remo was quiet for a moment, and that was usually never a good sign. “You have the patience of a saint. Do you want me to call some entertainment over?”

“I agreed to not seek out other women anymore.”

Remo laughed. “Right.” And then sobered. “You are being serious?”

“I am.”

“Are you trying to become a straight-laced citizen?”

“I have no ambitions in that regard, no.”

Remo shook his head. “First Fabiano, now you. Why’s everyone becoming pussy-whipped?”

“Since I’m not getting any pussy, your term is misleading.”

“Oh, fuck you, Nino. Don’t be a fucking smartass. Do you really think you can make a marriage work? Even if you don’t fuck other women, you won’t be a caring husband and you know it.”

I shrugged. “I know, but for now I’m going to give this a try and see where it takes me.”

“So this is some kind of scientific experiment for you?”

“Maybe.” It was something new, something I had no experience with and couldn’t say how I’d deal with it long-term, but I was curious and Kiara wanted this marriage to be real.