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KLEAH

TWO WEEKS. THAT'S HOW long I've been married to Gabriele Bronzetti. Two weeks since I stood in a courthouse and bound my life to a stranger's for protection. Two weeks of learning to navigate this new reality—danger and desire, fear and fascination intertwined.

In some ways, it feels like years. In others, mere moments.

I watch him now from the doorway of his office, unaware of my presence as he works. His focus is absolute, brow slightly furrowed as he studies whatever's on his computer screen, one hand absently rubbing the tension from his neck.

My husband looks handsome. Strong. Disciplined . If it were up to me, I'd love to spend every waking moment with him making love. I'm pretty sure he'd like that, too. But because there are still threats looming over my head, Gabriele hasn't let me slack off from my training.

And with every day that passes, the training has become more intense, to the point that I sometimes wonder if I'll just pass out in exhaustion one day.

But I don't complain, of course. I know it's for my own good. And while a part of me wants this to be over, another part of me is terrified. What will really happen once the danger has passed? Will Gabriele still keep me as his wife? He says we have forever. But can I truly believe him?

I step into the room, deliberately making enough noise that he won't be startled. His head lifts immediately, eyes finding mine, expression softening in a way that still surprises me.

"I didn't hear you," he says, pushing back from his desk slightly.

"You were focused." I move closer, perching on the edge of his desk. "Important work?"

"Security updates. Nothing immediate, but developments we need to monitor."

I nod, accepting this. I've learned not to ask for specifics when it comes to security matters. Some details are better left unknown, for my peace of mind if nothing else.

"Is there something on your mind?"

Oh. Right. I did come here for a reason.

My husband arches a brow. "You have a surprise for me?"

"Yup."

"This, I'll have to see then."

I lead him through the house to a part we rarely use—the Roman-style bath installed by the previous owner, a decadent space of marble and glass that feels almost mythical in its luxuriousness.

"I found it a few days ago while exploring," I explain as we enter. "It seemed... indulgent in the best possible way."

The space is magnificent—a sunken bath large enough for several people, surrounded by smooth marble, with subtle lighting that can be adjusted to any intensity. Glass walls on one side reveal the ocean beyond, the view private due to the property's isolation.

I move to the controls, having already figured out how they work during my earlier exploration. Warm water begins to fill the sunken bath. Steam rises, fogging the glass walls slightly, creating an atmosphere of dreamlike intimacy. I wait until everything's ready before turning to him, and I'm surprised (but also slightly embarrassed) to find my voice turning husky as I hear myself say...

"Take off your clothes, husband."

Gabriele doesn't answer.

He simply does what I ask, and I can feel myself starting to get wet as I watch him slowly unbutton his shirt, his movements deliberate. Unhurried. And so impossibly seductive that jealousy suddenly makes my heart ache.

"Have you done this before for other women?" I blurt out.

My husband laughs. "I'll take that as a compliment."

My throat dries when Gabriele finally stands before me, magnificent and powerful and big. In every way he can be.

I just can't believe this is my husband!

"Your turn, cara. "

I find myself turning into a clumsy mess under his gaze. But not once does he offer to help me. All he does is stare. And make me burn hotter with every passing second.

When we're both naked, I step into the bath first, the hot water a delicious shock against my skin. I settle on one of the underwater benches, extending my hand to him in invitation.

He joins me with characteristic grace, lowering himself into the water across from me rather than beside me. The distance is deliberate, I think—giving me space, letting me set the pace of whatever this becomes.

"This was a good idea, Kleah."

Hearing his praise is like having sun shine on me for the first time, but the huskiness of his voice also makes me tingle all over. "You've been taking care of me since the moment we met." The words spill past my lips in a breathless tone. "I just wanted to take care of you in return, for once."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I know." I move closer, the water rippling around me as I shift to sit beside him. "That's what makes this a gift, not a debt."

My heart thunders as I place my hand on his chest. "You're always so careful with me..." Being this close to him makes it so hard to speak. "So controlled." Because all I can think of right now is how perfect my husband is.

"You deserve care. Consideration."

"But this time, I want more. I want what you need."

"And what do you think I need?"

The thickness of his voice makes me dizzy with desire.

"W-What you need...is s-something I need as well."

A shiver runs through him, subtle but unmistakable. "Kleah..."

"Let me." I'm begging, coaxing, and tempting him at the same time. "Let me do this for you."

My hand slides lower, and I find Gabriele already half-hard from our closeness, from the anticipation of what might come. His breath catches as I wrap my fingers around his shaft under the water, the way he taught me that first night.

His eyes darken, but I don't give him the chance to say something to stop me. I kneel on the submerged bench. The water comes to just below my breasts, warm and buoyant around me.

"Tell me if I do something wrong," I whisper. "Show me how to please you."

I lower my head and notice how my husband's hands clench on the edge of the bath, knuckles whitening with the effort of restraint.

I've never done this before, but I've felt his mouth on me, know the pleasure it can bring. I want to give that to him, to watch his careful control shatter under my touch.

When I finally take him into my mouth, his sharp intake of breath is immensely satisfying. His hand comes to rest on my head, not pushing, just a gentle weight, an anchor.

"Like this?" I ask, looking up at him through my lashes.

"Yes." My husband speaks between clenched teeth. "Just like that."

I try to experiment with different rhythms. Different pressures. Different angles. And I'm rewarded by the beautiful expression on Gabriele's handsome face—eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, the usual perfect control beginning to fray at the edges.

Pride blooms in my chest when I hear my husband's breathing grow more ragged, and the hand in my hair tightens slightly.

" Kleah ."

Who knew the sound of a man's growl can be just like the most beautiful strand of music?

I can feel my husband's control crumbling, and it's intoxicating.

"Give it to me, Gabriele..."

A growl escapes his beautiful lips, and his release, when it comes, makes an exquisite sight. I don't think I'll ever forget how Gabriele looks, with his dark head thrown back, and his big, hard body jerking as my mouth tightens around his length.

GAbrIELE

My wife sleeps in my arms, trusting and peaceful, her breathing deep and even. I watch her in the dim light, taking in details I rarely allow myself to study so openly—the delicate curve of her cheek, the fan of her lashes against her skin, the soft parting of her lips.

What she gave me tonight was unexpected. Not just physical pleasure, though that was profound in its intensity, its genuineness. But something more valuable, more rare in my experience—the gift of being seen, of having my needs recognized and met without having to articulate them.

I hadn't realized how tightly I'd been holding myself until she offered release. How much tension I'd been carrying, how much restraint I'd been maintaining—not just with her, but with myself.

The relief of letting go, even briefly, was more powerful than I'd anticipated. More necessary than I'd been willing to admit.

When was the last time someone gave to me without expectation of return? When was the last time I allowed myself to receive, to be vulnerable, to surrender even a fraction of control?

I can't remember. Perhaps never.

Kleah shifts in her sleep, nestling closer, her hand coming to rest over my heart as if even unconscious, she seeks connection. I tighten my arm around her, protective and possessive in equal measure.

Mine .

The thought rises unbidden, fierce and primal. Mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to defend against whatever comes.