I closed my eyes. “I’m tired. It’s late.” It was so late it was actually early.
“No,” Luca said, touching my waist. “I want to understand. I’m your husband. It’s not like you are like other girls who can choose the man they’re going to lose it to. Are you scared I’m going to be rough with you because of what you saw today? I won’t be. I told you I want you to writhe beneath me in pleasure, and while that probably won’t happen the first time I take you, I’ll make you come as often as you want with my tongue and my fingers until you can come when I’m in you. I don’t mind going slow, but what do you want to wait for?”
I watched him through half-lidded eyes. For something that will never happen: that you’ll want to make love to me and not take me like I’m your possession. Part of me didn’t want to settle for less, the other part knew I had to. ‘Love is something girls hope for when they don’t know better, something women long for when they lie awake at night, and something they’ll only ever get from their children. Men don’t have time for such notions.’ That’s what my father always said. “I won’t make you wait for months,” I said instead of what I really wanted to say, then I fell asleep.CHAPTER TENLuca cancelled his plans for the next day and sent Matteo out to do whatever needed to be done. As a woman in our world, you quickly learned not to ask too many questions because the answers were rarely good.
Luca got ready first and when I walked into the kitchen dressed and showered¸ he was staring into the fridge with a frown on his face. “Can you cook?”
I snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never made breakfast for yourself?”
“I usually grab something on my way to work, except on the days when Marianna is here and prepares something for me.” His eyes scanned my body. I’d chosen shorts, a tanktop and sandals since it was supposed to get really hot today. “I love your legs.”
I shook my head, then walked toward him to peek into the fridge. He didn’t step back and our arms brushed. This time I managed not to flinch. His touch wasn’t uncomfortable and when he didn’t startle me, I could actually imagine enjoying it. The fridge was well stocked. The problem was I’d never cooked either, but I wouldn’t mention that to Luca. I grabbed the egg carton and red peppers, and set them down on the kitchen counter. It couldn’t be that hard to prepare an omelet. I’d watched our cook a few times in the past.
Luca leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms as I grabbed a pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove. I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Won’t you help me? You can chop the peppers. You know how to handle a knife from what I hear.”
That made the corners of his lips twitch but he pulled a knife out of the block and stepped up to my side. The top of my head came only up to his chest with my flat sandals. I had to admit I kind of liked it. I handed him the pepper and pointed toward a wooden cutting board because I got the feeling Luca would have started chopping right on the expensive black granite countertops. We worked in silence but Luca kept sneaking glances at me. I put a bit of butter into the pan, then seasoned the beaten eggs. I wasn’t sure if I needed to add milk or cream, but decided against it. I poured the eggs into the sizzling pan.
Luca pointed his knife at the chopped peppers. “What happens to these?”
“Shit,” I whispered. The peppers should have gone in first.
“Have you ever cooked?”
I ignored him and chucked the peppers into the pan with the eggs. I’d turned the stove to maximum heat and soon the hint of a burning smell reached my nose. I quickly grabbed a spatula and tried to flip the omelet over, but it stuck to the pan. Luca was watching me with a smirk.
“Why don’t you make coffee for us?” I snapped as I scraped the half burnt eggs from the bottom of the pan.
When I thought the eggs were safe to eat, I spooned them onto two plates. They didn’t really look all that tasty. Luca’s brows rose when I put a plate down in front of him. He sank down on the barstool and I hopped onto the one beside him. I watched him as he picked up the fork and speared a piece of egg, then brought it to his lips. He swallowed, but it was obvious he wasn’t too impressed. I took a bite as well and almost spat it back out. The eggs were too dry and too salty. I dropped my fork and gulped down half of my coffee, not even caring that it was hot and black. “Oh my God, that’s disgusting.”
There was a hint of amusement in Luca’s face. The more relaxed expression made him look so much more approachable. “Maybe we should go out for breakfast.”
I glowered at my coffee. “How hard can it be to make an omelet?”
Luca let out what might have been a laugh. Then his eyes flitted back down to my bare legs, which were almost touching his. He put his hand down on my knee and I froze with my cup against my lips. He didn’t do anything, just lightly traced his thumb back and forth over my skin. “What would you like to do today?”
I pondered that, even if his hand was very distracting. I was alternating between wanting to shove it off my knee and ask him to keep caressing me. “The morning after our wedding night, you asked me if I knew how to fight, so maybe you can teach me how to use a knife or a gun, and maybe some self-defense.”