Valentina lifted her chin in defiance. Something deep in my chest stirred, something possessive and primal. I moved close again, forcing her to deal with my presence.
“Aren’t you loyal to me? Don’t you think you owe me the truth? Don’t you think it’s your duty? Not only because I’m the Boss of the Outfit, but because I’m your husband,” I said.
Valentina narrowed her eyes. That wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. “And you owe me a decent wedding night. As my husband, it should be your duty to take care of my needs. I suppose we both will have to live with the disappointment.”
Fuck it all. The problem was I wanted to fuck her, to fuck her into submitting, wanted to domineer and possess her. It wasn’t what she needed, what a husband should do, but fuck, she was pushing my buttons. I’d never felt that urge with Carla. She’d been so gentle-minded and submissive, I could have never fucked her like I wanted to fuck Valentina. I’d only made love to her.
I grabbed Valentina and jerked her against me, so her back was pressed up against my chest and her firm butt against my cock. I considered gripping her neck and bending her over, considered fucking her right here and there from behind. Maybe then she’d stop wanting me to become the husband she desired.
“I’m a patient hunter, Valentina,” I said quietly, stifling my darkness, my anger, and sadness. “You will tell me what I want to know eventually.” I ran my palm down her side, feeling her tremble under the touch and my cock stirring in response. My fingertips grazed her smooth thigh and Valentina held her breath, desperate for my touch, but not as desperate as I felt to claim her. God, I wanted to own this woman.
My hand trailed up her thigh until I reached her panties. The lace was drenched with her juices. Valentina’s arousal was like a siren’s song. She leaned back against me, her breathing deepening, nipples puckering under her flimsy nightgown. Begging me to fuck her. I pushed a finger under her panties, stifling a groan at the feel of her wet, hot slit. My finger stroked over her soft flesh, then delved between her folds, feeling their smoothness and Valentina’s wetness. “You want this?” I growled, my voice drenched with desire. I needed to get a grip on myself, needed to rein this in. Losing control wasn’t an option.
“Yes,” Valentina said. Her voice was throaty, needy. She pressed her pussy against my hand, making my finger glide over her opening. I wrapped my arm around her waist, stopping her movements. Feeling her tight pussy against my fingertip made me want to exchange the digit for my cock. “I want you, Dante.”
“Tell me what I want to know.” I wasn’t even sure if this was still about coercing information out of my wife because I doubted I could have stopped rubbing my fingers over her folds. Valentina’s breathing deepened, her hips making small rocking motions as she got closer to her release. She got wetter, and I had to force myself to keep up the gentle touch and not finger-fuck her like I’d fantasized about. Valentina began to shake, more arousal making my fingertips slide easily between her pussy lips. Valentina leaned her head back against my shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”
Didn’t she see? I wanted to fuck her so hard she couldn’t walk, wanted to spill my cum down her throat, wanted to claim her. Her green eyes swam with need and desire, and that alone might have convinced me to throw her on the bed and show her how much I wanted her. But behind the apparent desire, I detected her insecurity, her anxiety, her need for tenderness. I stroked my finger up to her clit, rubbing it with the pad and Valentina’s eyes widened in shock, her perfect lips falling open, as she came under my hand. My cock was painfully hard as I watched her succumb to pleasure, knowing I could give her so much more, show her different forms of pleasure.
I wanted Valentina, had never desired a woman like I did her. And that was the problem. She was my wife. I’d made a vow to be good to her and I would keep it. I wouldn’t fuck her, not when she deserved lovemaking and tenderness. My wife, not a whore. “I do. That’s the problem.” I released her before I did something I’d regret, and definitely something she would regret. I didn’t look at her again as I strode out of the bedroom, needing to bring distance between my wife and me.
I didn’t slow my steps until I reached my office and closed the door. I went straight to the liquor cabinet, fixing myself a strong drink. The moment I brought up the glass with the whiskey, I released a harsh breath and closed my eyes. Valentina’s scent lingered on my fingers. The sweet scent of her arousal. I wanted to taste it, taste her. I downed the whiskey in one gulp and put the glass back down. My cock pressed against my pants, hard and leaking pre-cum. I resisted the urge to jerk off in the middle of my office. I wasn’t a goddamn teenage boy and even then, I’d possessed more self-control than that.