Chapter Twenty-One
Nico nodded, only half paying attention to what his uncle, Roberto, was saying. He found his eyes repeatedly drawn to the women on the other side of the room—specifically Olivia. Every time he'd glanced over, she seemed in conversation with either his mom or aunt. He'd caught her smiling a few times, laughing once, and it pleased him she appeared to be getting along with his family. That was important. Family was everything, and the Family always came first. Nico knew that, even if lately he'd silently questioned his duty, wanting to put Olivia first.
He glanced over again, his eyes quickly scanning the area when he saw Olivia's seat empty. Halting Roberto mid-sentence, he excused himself, stopping by his mother before progressing to the bathroom where she'd said Olivia had gone.
Elena passed him before he reached the hall, but he paid her no attention until he got a look at Olivia's face and wondered what she'd been up to. "What's wrong?" he asked, stepping in close and taking her arm to pull her closer.
She refused to look at him. "I'm suddenly not feeling well. Do you think we can go home."
He knew she lied. She was a terrible liar, but he also knew whatever was wrong, they wouldn't be hashing it out in the hall of his parents' house. "Of course, tesoro." He steered her to the front door. "Wait here. I'll go make our excuses then we can leave."
Head still down, she nodded, and he couldn't wait to get her alone to find out what the fuck had happened.
He said goodbye to the family, paying extra attention to Elena when he noticed the smug smile on her face. He kissed his mother on the cheek promising to see her soon then ushered Olivia out of the house and into the car.
She was silent the whole drive home, and Nico didn't push, not wanting to divide his attention between Olivia and the road. But as soon as he got her to the bedroom, he sat her at the edge of the bed, kneeling at her feet so if she did her "looking down" shit, he'd still be able to see her face.
"Now tell me what's wrong." He had his arms wrapped around her hips with his hands gripping the top of her ass.
"Did you sleep with her?"
For once, he was happy she wasn't looking at him. He was sure he had a "deer in the headlights" expression on his face. She had to know he wasn't a virgin when they'd met and that he'd had quite a few hers in his past. Not that he was going to share any of that with Olivia. She was his one and only now, and that was all that mattered.
He squeezed her hips. "Who?"
She lifted her head and, swear to Christ, he'd never seen such a look of anger on her face before. "E-le-na," she said, grinding out the syllables.
"What in the hell would make you think I've slept with Elena?"
"The fact that she told me you did. She also informed me the two of you have been promised to each other since birth, and that not only did the two of you have sex, but you took her virginity. A fact she's going to make known to both your families so she can get our marriage annulled."
Nico blinked, then blinked again, trying to process the big pile of bullshit he'd just listened to.
"Say something," Olivia said through gritted teeth and fuck him if his cock didn't jump. Damn, she was sexy as fuck when angry.
He stood from his crouch and pushed at her shoulders until she lay with her back against the bed. He moved on top of her, his knees on either side of her hips, arms straight to the bed hovering over her.
"Nico!" She pushed at his chest, but he was immovable.
He grinned.
"What's so funny?"
He shook his head. "Not funny, cute. You're adorable when you're angry."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're not helping to calm my anger."
He dropped to his elbows, taking her face in his hands. "Not trying to."
She pushed at his chest, again with the same unyielding results. "Start talking, Nico."
Sensing she was at her limit, he said, "To answer your original question, no, I've never fucked Elena." She opened her mouth to say something, but he stalled her, placing his thumbs over her lips. "To clarify, I've never made love to her, slept with her, or even kissed her other than an occasional brotherly kiss on the cheek."
She took a deep breath, but he stalled her again. "And to clarify even further, no, I've never had those kinds of feelings for her, we have not been promised since children, and whatever else she might have told you, is all bullshit."
He saw the anger dissipate from her eyes and swept his thumbs away so she could talk. "She's in love with you."
"I can't help that. I've never given her a reason to be."
"She's going to cause problems between the families. She feels slighted, and you know what they say about a woman scorned."
"No one can take you away from me, tesoro."
"Can your family really annul our marriage because I'm not Italian?"
"Not if I don't want them to."
"And... do you want them to?"
He knew what she was really asking veiled behind her subtle words. But he couldn't give her what she wanted. He didn't know if he even had the ability to love someone. He did know if it were possible, then it would be her.
His Olivia.
He may not be able to give her the words she wanted, but he could give her the next best thing and hoped like hell it would be enough. "Make no mistake that you are mine, tesoro. Will always be mine. And God help the person who ever tries to take you away from me because I'll never let you go."
He saw the look of hurt before she tried to conceal it behind a small smile. But he noticed. He noticed everything about her. "I'll be yours for as long as you want me, Nico."
God, he loved it when she said his name. "That will be forever, tesoro."
"Please don't say things that might not be true. Forever is a really long time."
He was done talking. Time to show her how he felt.
He captured her lips, and after a slight hesitation, she melted under him. He hated that second of doubt. Elena had planted that seed in Olivia's head, and for that, she would pay.
His fingers went to work on the buttons of her blouse, possessiveness surging through him as he parted the silk, exposing the swells of her breasts that overflowed the lacy cups of her bra. He tugged, freeing a nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Worshipping her body, expressing by deed what he couldn't say in words.
She arched into him, her hands gripping his shoulders, and her nails digging into his flesh. "Tell me you're mine." His lips whispered down the plane of her stomach, stopping when he reached the waistband of her slacks. He popped the button. "Tell me you belong to me."
"Nico, please." She surged her hips, but that wasn't the response he wanted.
"Tell me, tesoro." He lowered her zipper. "Tell me you're mine. That only I can give you what you want, and I'll gladly give it to you." He slid her pants down her legs but left her panties.
"I'm yours, Nico. Always and forever. Only yours."
He placed a kiss under her navel then got off the bed. "Remove your blouse and bra but leave the panties," he said as he removed his own clothing. "Slide to the center of the bed and lie down."
He loved when she followed orders. He moved to the end of the bed. "Bend your knees, feet to the bed and spread your legs. I want to see my pussy."
She did as he asked but raised her head to peer at him through her open legs.
He looked her in the eyes then took himself in hand with a tight fist. "Do you trust me, tesoro?"
"Yes."
She licked her lips, and he pumped his cock imagining those lips surrounding him. "Good. I want you to do exactly as I say."
She licked her fucking lips again but nodded.
"Drop your head back and arch your chest." God, she was perfect. Tits thrust out in invitation, taunting him to devour them. But that would have to wait. There were other things he wanted to do first. "Place your right hand on your stomach." She did as instructed. "Good. Now, slowly slide your hand down into your panties." Her hand stilled. He waited for her to comply.
* * * * *
Olivia's heart pounded as nerves paralyzed her movements. Could she do what he asked? Although she had been a virgin before she met Nico, she hadn't been a stranger to making herself come. It had just always been in the privacy of her own room. The thought of Nico watching her finger herself was a bit embarrassing.
Okay, a lot embarrassing.
But this was Nico, her husband. He wasn't doing this to humiliate her. He was doing it because it turned him on, and in turn, that turned her on. She grew wet at just the thought of doing something so naughty. So why the hesitation?
She slowly skimmed her hand down her stomach, stopping when her fingers brushed against the waistband of her panties.
"Keep going, tesoro."
Nico's voice was gruff, on the edge of hard. She wished she could see his face, but in her position and with him at the end of the bed, there was no way to accomplish that goal. Maybe that was for the best. Less embarrassing that way.
With a deep breath, she dipped her fingers under the waistband of her panties and ghosted over feather-soft curls until she reached the smooth lips of her sex.
"Play with yourself, tesoro. How you like it. Make yourself come."
She parted her lips, dipping a finger through the wetness before seeking out her clit. She rubbed it in small circles, her hips slowly gyrating in time to the sweeping motion of her finger.
"You don't know how fucking hard I am right now, watching you."
Her movements became bolder at his words—her fingers pressing harder while at the same time moving faster. Her embarrassment fell away, simply knowing the effect she had on him.
"Do you like how turned on I am from watching you pleasure yourself?"
"Yes."
"Why, tesoro?"
"Because I feel powerful."
"As you fucking should. Always remember, you hold all the power."
Not caring about breaking her position, she quickly raised herself up on her elbows to look at him. It was a sight she would never forget. Still at the foot of the bed, his legs were slightly spread, one hand on his hip the other wrapped around his fully engorged manhood in a tight grip. His smooth tanned skin, holding a light sheen of sweat covered well-defined muscles that swelled and flexed with each slide of his hand. He looked like some kind of primeval sex god.
But it was his face that was so arresting. Always so incredibly handsome, it now had a hard edge—a sharpness to his features—and a determination that could only be described as possessive. As if what he looked at were all his. And what he was looking at was her.
"Why would you tell me that?" She was sure she looked just as confused as she sounded.
He climbed on the bed, settling between her legs. Elbows planted next to hers, chest to chest, their faces an inch apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "Because I need you to know, only you have the power to hurt me."
It wasn't the actual words—she wasn't sure he would ever say he loved her. But what he didn't understand was what he'd just said held more meaning than those three little words spoken a hundred times over. Cupping the side of his face, she lightly kissed his lips before whispering against them, "I'll never hurt you."