Bound by the Past (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles 7)

I opened the door to the master bedroom and motioned for Valentina to go in, which she did with another searching look at me. My eyes followed the curve of her back to her ass that the dress accentuated in a very pleasing way as I stepped inside and closed the door. I’d moved into the bedroom days after Carla’s death, unable to sleep in the room I’d spent almost every night with her. I shoved the memories aside, forced down the wave of emotions they evoked, and focused on a safer notion: my desire for my wife.

“The bathroom is through that door,” I said, as I walked past her toward the window, stifling my desire to grab Valentina, throw her down on the bed and fuck her from behind. She was my wife, and deserved at least some semblance of control from me. That I desired her made me already feel guilty. The whores I’d sought in Palermo had been chosen based on their sexual specialties, not their appearance. I hadn’t even given them more than a fleeting glance before I’d fucked them, but I had chosen Valentina, and even if I wanted to pretend it had been based solely on logic, I had to admit to myself that I’d found her desirable.

The soft click told me Valentina had disappeared in the bathroom. I braced myself against the window, staring out into the dark night, focusing on the way my groin tightened, on the desire stirring in my insides, on the dark hunger that screamed louder than sorrow and guilt.

When Valentina finally emerged, I was teetering on the edge. She cleared her throat, causing me to turn and take in the sight of her, dressed in a violet nightgown that hugged her curves. It was elegant and more modest than I’d expected. When my gaze finally settled on her face, I knew I wouldn’t find an outlet for my pent-up fury tonight, not because Valentina wouldn’t answer to my demands but because I couldn’t allow myself to act like that toward my wife, not when she looked at me with a hint of insecurity and shyness, and worse hope. Valentina may have lost a husband but she wanted me to take his place, to give her tenderness and love.

“You can lie down. I’ll grab a shower.” The words came out like an order but I didn’t take them back as I headed into the bathroom and closed the door from Valentina’s confused face.

I tore at my tie then thrust it to the ground before I removed my remaining clothes with the same violence. Only when I stepped inside the shower and released a long breath as the hot water poured down on me did I relax. I grabbed my cock, needing to get rid of the desire simmering under my skin. The woman waiting for me in our shared bed wanted something I couldn’t give her and she wasn’t ready yet to give me what I wanted. Soon she’d realize that this was a bond for outside appearances, no more. My release brought me little satisfaction, not that I’d expected it to, but when I returned to the bedroom fifteen minutes later, I felt more like myself, in control and calm. Valentina reclined on the bed, elegant, beautiful. My eyes took her in, could not stop, but again her expression reminded me why I had tried to control myself in the first place. I stretched out beside her, even though her scent crawled into my nose, calling to the desire I’d tried to quench. I met Valentina’s gaze as she stretched out beside me. She looked embarrassed and insecure, almost innocent, and it threw me off because I’d expected her to be different, because I’d married her in hopes that she’d be different.

“I have an early day tomorrow,” I said, turning off the lights.

Valentina’s even breathing sounded beside me and her scent still tantalized me, but in the dark, the past was stronger than my desire as memories resurfaced against the black canvas of the night. Carla’s sunken face, her raspy last breath, the fear and despair in her eyes, and finally the relief when it all ended.I avoided my wife like a goddamn coward. I prided myself on my restraint but in her company, I was shown how wrong I’d been. Every new attempt from her to seduce me tore another chunk of my wall down.

Valentina didn’t give up. Part of me wanted her to keep up her pursuit until I lost my battle, the other, still stronger part, needed her to stop before I showed her why I’d avoided marriage for so long. Our first kiss awakened something in me I had trouble caging in, a hunger so unrestrained and wild, it threatened to awaken the parts of my nature that had no place in a marriage. And so I kept pushing her way. For my sake, but more than that: for her sake.