She ran her hand down the material of the suit. It felt very different from anything she’d ever worn before. Textures sometimes bothered her, but this felt right on her body. She had opted to wear silk panties beneath it. She hadn’t quite gotten to the point where she was comfortable walking around knowing she didn’t at least have little scraps of underwear protecting her.
She leaned her chin onto her palm as she paused by the hall mirror. That was the strangest thing of all. She probably was safer being nude. She could disappear into the shadows if she wasn’t wearing clothes. All that time she’d been with her step-uncles, suffering their attacks, had she known she could have escaped by using the shadows, she would have done so. Her means to leave had been right there all along.
Taviano’s attackers had been men who knew how to use the shadows. They were older and more experienced. She hadn’t known, and he hadn’t been able to leave.
Taviano came up behind her, close, so close she felt his body heat. He wrapped his arm around her, one hand sliding into the loose lapel of her jacket to cup her breast over the thin lace of the silk bra. His thumb and finger rolled her nipple. Her sex clenched and instantly she went damp and her stomach did that slow hot roll.
“What are you doing?”
“I like touching you.” He didn’t remove his hand. He tugged on her nipple through the silk. “Does it bother you?”
She pushed back into him. She wanted more from him. She wanted to be able to have a normal relationship, not be afraid every time he touched her that if he took it too far, she’d mess everything up by falling apart. Her first reaction was always fear. Her second reaction was an incredibly intense heat flooding her veins and pooling low and sinfully wicked. She laid her head back against his chest.
“Nicoletta? Does it bother you that I like touching you?”
“No.” Her voice came out a husky whisper. She barely recognized it. There was no way to suppress the longing, and she didn’t try. “I like that you do. I hope you always want to touch me like this, Taviano.”
“Next time, tesoro, when Stefano isn’t coming with us, you don’t need to wear a bra or panties. I know you think you need them, but you don’t. I want you to feel freedom. Not necessarily because you’re going without them but from the idea of having to have clothes to protect you. First, you’ve gotten to a point where you can protect yourself. And second, I love your body and I love knowing no one else has a clue but me what’s under that prim and proper little suit. Which, by the way, looks very different on you than it does on me.”
She had to agree. He looked very handsome. All the Ferraros did. She looked … curvy. The jacket tucked in at her waist and flared over her hips. Emmanuelle had worn the men’s cut for a long time and then she’d demanded a female version. The tailor had created a beautiful line, with the lapels fitting tight over her breasts and even tighter through the ribs before flaring out over the hips. The back was longer, a series of draping ruffles that framed her bottom deliciously. It was very feminine, but the material had a lot of stretch in it, allowing the women to move when they needed to work.
Nicoletta couldn’t look away from the two of them in the mirror. She found the sight of his hand disappearing beneath her jacket lapel very hot. His fingers caressed her breast gently and then became rougher, more possessive, before going back to those hauntingly sweet strokes that drove her out of her mind.
He buried his face in that little spot between her shoulder and neck that he knew made her particularly squirm when he kissed and bit her there. Her entire body shivered. She wanted to ask him what he was doing. She worried that Stefano could be there any minute. Weren’t they supposed to be heading out to go after the Demons who were going to come into Ferraro territory so no one could get hurt? The Ferraros were so casual about time. They acted like they had all the time in the world. She had no idea if they had to hurry or if they had most of the night to just be on call.
They’d spent time practicing traveling short distances in the shadows to acclimate her body and give her a chance to learn to ride them on her own, mainly from one part of the house to the other. It was much scarier than she’d thought it would be, even going that distance without holding on to him. He was right behind her, but she couldn’t feel him there. The cold of the shadows and the absolute aloneness terrified her, compounded by the sensation of her skin coming off her bones, but she didn’t get sick. The distance was short enough that she was able to maintain. Once she’d managed a few times to find her way around the house using the shadows, she had far more confidence.