“Thank you, sir,” she purrs.
Smirking up at her, I shake my head. “Thanks, babe.”
She takes a step away, and without a glance back at her, I shift my car into reverse and head home to my wife. Wife. The thought still feels extremely foreign. She is my wife and even though I was just gone for a few hours, I do find that I miss her already.
It doesn’t take long for me to make it home. Pulling into the garage, I close the door behind me before I get out of the car. Grabbing the bag of food, I can smell the fresh bread coming from the bag. The joint from earlier doing its job of relaxing me, but also making me fucking hungry.
Opening the door, I walk directly into the kitchen. Taking some plates out of the cabinet, I start arranging the food. The house is quiet and I assume that Pippa is upstairs getting ready for me, or maybe even waiting for me.
Once I’m finished, I take the plates into the dining room and set them down, then grab silverware and a napkin before I find a nice bottle of wine.
This won’t be an every night thing, but for the first night in our home together, I do want to make it nice. I’m an asshole, but I’m not that big of an asshole, this is only our third day of being married.
Grabbing a couple of glasses, I pour us each some wine and set the glasses on the table, then the bottle of wine between the plates before I head upstairs to find my wife. The second floor is quiet, but there is soft light pouring from the bedroom.
Pippa is there, standing at the window, looking out at the lights of the other buildings around us. My breath catches at the sight of her. She’s wearing a knee-length nude see-through skintight dress thing.
Her black hair is down her back, skimming just above her ass, and when my gaze catches her feet, I smirk. She’s wearing sky-high nude high heels to finish off the sexy as fuck look.
“Turn around, let me see all of you,” I demand gently, leaning my shoulder against the doorjamb.
Without a single word, she slowly turns around. I keep my eyes focused up so that I can see her face before I take in the rest of her body. She has a full face of makeup and I frown. It’s too much fucking makeup.
“Why’d you put all that shit on your face?” I ask.
She licks her berry red lips, taking a step toward me, then pauses. “I wanted to look nice for you,” she breathes.
Shaking my head, I push off the door and move toward her. Reaching for her waist, I wrap my fingers around her and tug her against my chest, welcoming the way her soft tits feel pressed against me.
Dropping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers. “I like you just as you are, Pippa. I don’t need all this shit on your face, dolcezza. You’re fucking beautiful completely bare.”
Her hands press against my chest, and she sighs against my lips. “Okay, Massimo.”
“Hungry?” I ask, my hand sliding down to her ass and squeezing her.
She nods, then takes a step back, I allow it because I haven’t taken a good look at her in the outfit. I’m unable to hold back my moan when I see her sweet nipples through the cups of her slip, then drag my gaze down to her pussy and almost whimper at the sight of her bare cunt.
“No panties tonight?”
She laughs softly. “You just rip them,” she whispers.
Grinning, I hold out my hand. She slips her palm in mine and I wrap my fingers around hers before I tug her closer to me. “I do, don’t I?”
“You do, they’re expensive. I’m trying to save you money.” She laughs softly again.
“I’ll buy you a pair for every day of the year just so that I can rip them all,” I say as we walk down the stairs.
“You’re crazy.” She giggles.
My chest fills with pride at the fact that I’ve pulled a giggle from her. It’s the sweetest victory and I know that soon, I will win her completely.
We have some hurdles to get through, some things to learn about one another. She has some things to learn about her new life, but in the end, I know that without a doubt, I will win her over and she will be glad that she’s mine.
PIPPA
I should feel uncomfortable about eating in high heels and a see-through negligee, but I don’t. I’m not sure if it’s because this has become a requirement of my marriage or if I’m just not as shy as I was a few days ago. Whatever the case, I can’t deny that I enjoy the way my husband watches me from across the table.
Picking up my wine glass, I bring it to my lips. Massimo reaches across the table and holds his palm up. I stop, my glass touching my lips.
“A toast?”
Setting my glass down, I lick my lips as I shift my gaze to meet his. Those obsidian eyes watch me. My breath hitches as I wait for what he’s going to say. With him, I’m starting to discover that I can’t guess what he’s going to say in his next breath.
“To a long happy marriage, dolcezza. We’ll have la dolce vita, Pippa. I can feel it in my bones,” he murmurs.
Reaching across the table, I touch my glass to his. The only sound in the room other than our breathing is the soft clink of our wine glasses.
“We will, Massimo. I’ll try everything I can to make you happy,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, his lips turning up into a smile, one that still doesn’t reach his eyes. I feel a bit defeated that I still can’t get a true smile from him. I know that it’s only been a few days, but I want it, I want it more than even I realize.
“You already do, Pippa,” he rasps.
My lips tip into a small smile as I bring the glass to them. Massimo lifts his glass to his lips as well and we both take a sip. Setting the glass down, I can’t wait to dig into the food that he’s brought home.
Reaching for a piece of bread, I pull my hand back and sit on it instead.
“Pippa?” Massimo asks.
Lifting my eyes to his, I shake my head once. “I shouldn’t. The pasta is enough carbs,” I say with a small smile.
Massimo reaches for the bread before he stands to his feet. I stab my fork into my roasted squash, lifting it to my lips as he walks around the table, bread in hand. Frowning, I chew my food before he sinks down to his haunches in front of me.
Swallowing my squash, I look down at him. “Open,” he softly demands.
Without hesitation, without even thinking, I do exactly as he asks. My lips part and I open my mouth. He tears off a chunk of the bread and holds it up to my lips.
“Bread is not an enemy, Pippa. Food should be eaten to fuel your body. You need it to survive. It’s obvious your aunt has fucked you up in more than one way. She’s played with your mind, made you think that you need to be sickly thin. You don’t, dolcezza. You need to be healthy for the baby I intend to fill you with.”
My breath hitches from his words. I had almost forgotten or maybe purposely put the concept of pregnancy and babies out of my head. The reality is that we haven’t used protection once since we’ve been married and I very well could be pregnant already.
Taking the bread from him, I chew, my eyes never leaving his. Swallowing, I watch him. He doesn’t move, his eyes searching my own for a moment.
He lifts his hand, wrapping his fingers around the front of my throat. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’s going to say or do next. He’s so damn unpredictable. His other hand cups my cheek and his thumb slides over my lips, just a gentle brush, obviously not wishing to mess up my lipstick with the move.