The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them and there was an audible gasp from the room. Romano’s face froze and we stood, gazes locked, and then he laughed.
“You are a feisty one,” he said. “You have your hands full, Lucien.”
Lucien’s mouth twitched. “I do.”
We sat down, Lucien at the head with me at his left and Romano in the next seat over. When Lucien leaned forward to fill his glass, I caught Romano’s eye, determined that my slip wouldn’t reflect badly on my husband. Even if it meant swallowing my disgust and apologizing to the man who had assaulted me.
“I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect,” I said quietly.
Romano’s eyes lingered on my breasts, unashamed. “I know,” he said softly. “But I’ll only accept your apology if you dance once with me tonight, Mrs. Esposito.”
Stomach roiling, I inclined my head and turned back to my plate. The servants brought out the food and I took a deep breath and picked up my fork. I could feel my mother’s eyes on me, already judging the new curves to my body. I found her gaze across the table and put a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth, not caring for the first time that they were drenched in butter.
Lucien was right about wanting power. It was a high I could get addicted to.
Chapter Fifteen
Lucien
I was rock hard beneath the table. Even having the entire outfit seated in the same room wasn’t enough to deter the blood pounding in my groin. Something about the red dress she wore was sexier even than the black one that had shown an obscene amount of her breasts. Knowing I was done for, I glanced down at her lap, unable to drag my eyes away.
Her legs were fully visible through the slits in her skirt that ran all the way up to her hipbones. If it weren’t for the lower portion of the dress that covered her pussy, she would have exposed herself with every step. She shifted in her seat and I caught her eye and she lifted a leg and crossed it over the other. Fuck, she knew exactly what she was doing. I ran my eyes down the curve of her calf to the red sandals that showed her manicured toes.
I needed to fuck her before the night was over. There was a bathroom just off the front room where the dance floor was located. If only I had the time now, I would pull her into it and lay her down on the sink, draw her silky legs over my shoulders, and sink deep into her tight pussy. She would moan and writhe and make that gasping cry that drove me wild as she came around my cock.
This wasn’t helping. I glanced over at Romano and felt significantly less hot under the collar. He was looking down as well and I knew his eyes were on my wife’s body, dragging over her legs. He was probably fantasizing about fucking her too. The thought sent a rush of rage through me, killing my erection.
After dinner, everyone gathered to the other side of the house. The front room opposite the living area had been cleared and the black and white patterned floor shone in the candlelight. On the far side was a bar where a few of the younger men had already congregated. I noticed Cosimo Barone leaning on the counter at the end, his arm around the waist of Lorenza Russo, a young woman who’d been widowed a few years ago, just shy of her thirtieth birthday.
I frowned, making a mental note to ask Olivia about it later. Lorenza was a good seven years older than Cosimo and if I was going to make him an underboss soon, I needed him to agree to a more useful match. Not that I begrudged his current choice. I’d fucked my share of women older than I when I was a young man and I understood the appeal.
After everyone was thoroughly lubricated with wine and liquor, the band in the corner struck up a slow waltz. I set aside my glass and looked for Olivia, but Romano was already leading her out to the dance floor, his hand on her lower back. Heat and anger rose in my chest, but I forced myself to keep my rage concealed and contained. It was a bold move for him to claim her first dance and I knew it wasn’t lost on anyone in the room.
I felt their eyes on me as I stood on the edge of the floor. Duran and Iris began dancing on the far side and a few other couples followed suit. I paced along the edge of the room, my blood pumping beneath the surface. My face was a smooth mask, but beneath it all, I was seething, longing to tear my wife from Romano’s arms.
He was taunting me, trying to draw my anger out into the open. It felt eerily like something my father would do. Humiliate me with his words, hurt me with his fists, strip away my dignity and my control. He’d deserved what had happened to him and Romano would too.
Another song started and Romano led a nervous Iris out to the floor. I kept back and allowed Duran to take Olivia’s hand and join the other couples. The room was growing hazier as time went on, full of the scent of wine and whiskey, the thrumming of music, and the whirl of colorful dresses. In the center of it was Olivia, passed back and forth between the prominent men of the outfit as the orchestra played on. I’d known it would happen, we were the guests of honor after all, but seeing hands that weren’t mine on my wife’s body made me see red.
Then I saw her father cross the room in her direction and I sprang into action, striding toward them. She turned as we both approached and I put my hand around her waist and pulled her against my side. Her father’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then he backed off, inclining his head. We were technically of the same rank, but I was Romano’s favorite and the other underbosses conceded to me. Always.
“Duran,” I said, catching his arm as he passed by. “Tell the orchestra to play a tango. And take my coat.” I shrugged out of my jacket and took hold of Olivia’s elbow, ushering her toward the center of the floor.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“You said you could tango,” I said. “So just follow my lead.”
The music started and her body lengthened, her shoulders going back. It had been a long time since I’d danced other than the waltz at our wedding, but I wasn’t worried about embarrassing either of us. Thanks to my mother, I knew this dance inside and out.
We moved on beat, our bodies melding together as if we’d choreographed this dance a hundred times together. Her eyes burned dark and her red mouth parted as I spun her, catching her in my arms and dipping her back over my knee. For a second, suspended in time, I saw her laid out, her elegant body arching back over my leg, and my blood pumped faster. Then we were moving again, spinning across the floor, our bodies weaving together.
I was dimly aware everyone had stopped dancing around us and were now hanging back to watch. I flipped her to face out and she slid down against me, her head level with my groin for a moment. Her leg slid out to the side in a slow, sensual movement. My eyes fell on the arch of her pretty foot and I caught my breath at the sight.
Without thinking, I stepped back, spun her once on her heel, and pulled her close. She was a pure fire, her gorgeous body dressed in red with those long, long legs keeping perfect time with mine. Jesus Christ, as soon as I got her alone, I was going to remind her exactly who she belonged to.
I picked her up in one arm and her legs bent as I passed her over my knee, catching her wrists at the last moment and spinning her around my body. She was trusting me completely not to let her fall. I pulled her against me, her leg sliding out in tandem with mine. Her shoulders and head bent back in a graceful curve, exposing her throat to me.
The music thrumming in my ears, in my body, and I forgot myself completely as I dragged my mouth from her throat to the full swell of her breasts above her neckline. Her breathing hitched as my tongue flicked out and then I lifted her upright and we spun back into motion.