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I eased back to better see him, but his eyes were closed. “Because you said it about forty times in the alley.”
He grimaced. “It meansI’m fucked.”
“In the figurative sense or the literal sense?”
“In the case of the alley, both.”
That didn’t make sense. “Why both? Because?—”
“Basta, diavoletta.”
His hands slid underneath me and he pushed to his feet while still holding me. I yelped and wrapped myself around him. “Where are we going?”
“To get clean so I can dirty you up all over again.”
As he started for the stairs, my eyes landed on the wet spot left behind on my furniture. “Now I need to replace that sofa.”
“Don’t worry, I planned to buy a new one anyway.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the furniture in here.”
Vito grunted and began going up the steps. “I will make this cottage better, te lo prometto.”
As he’d promised to do with the winery.
I wasn’t sure what to say. We were now in unchartered waters. My instinct was to argue with him, to fight him against change of any kind, but my body couldn’t muster the energy. He’d fucked the fight right out of me.
Maybe that was his intention, to keep me drunk on orgasms so he could run roughshod over this place.
I rested my head on my arm and played with the damp curls at the nape of his neck. “This doesn’t change anything, you know.”
He reached the top of the stairs and kept walking in the direction of the bedrooms. “Wrong, bella. This means you belong to me until I say otherwise.”
I chuckled. “Oh, Vito. You’re such a delusional, handsome man.”
“You are the deluded one if you think I’ll go on as before. But feel free to test me. In fact, I pray that you do—because nothing gets me harder than fighting with you.”
We walked into the bedroom—which was now unusually huge. And there was a king-sized bed that definitely hadn’t been here before. “You have a lot of nerve knocking down that wall.”
He carried me to the master bathroom and set me on my feet. Then he reached into the shower and turned on the water. “You have to admit, it’s better, no? Not a tiny closet anymore.”
I would admit that only under extreme bouts of physical torture. “You’re lucky you’re decent in bed. Otherwise, you’d be too much to put up with.”
“Decent?” He stalked over to crowd me into the stone countertop with his big, naked frame. I rested my hands on his chest as he dipped in to press hot open-mouthed kisses to my neck. “Is that why you begged me to fuck you so sweetly, angelo mio? Because I’mdecent?”
“Yes,” I answered instantly.
Vito sank his teeth into the sensitive flesh where my neck met my shoulder. It straddled the line between pleasure and pain and I let out a moan. He pulled back and kissed the abused skin. “Get that smart mouth into the shower before I prove you a liar.”
He pulled open the glass door and I went into the steam. During the construction, we hadn’t skimped on the bathroom and I was very glad for it at the moment. This was far nicer than my shower on the other side of the vineyard. Vito followed me inside and closed us in. I hadn’t showered with a man before the casino, but it was strangely easy with Vito. No doubt he’d showered with many women over the years.
He turned away to grab the soap, while I leaned against the tile, questions building up in my head. “So, you’ve never been married and you visit strip clubs during the day.”
“Does this bother you?”
A vague answer. I was coming to realize Vito was very good at evading questions. “What bothers me is how slippery you are.”
He faced me, lathering soap between his hands. “A habit of the life I live, I’m afraid. What do you want to know?”