Page 19 of One Savage Union (Crimson Bonds #1)

Is there anything this man doesn’t know about me?

With his resources, he probably has an entire dossier on me.

What else does he know? My phone password?

My guilty pleasure of ordering pralines from that Savannah Candy shop - I love it.

The type of porn I watch when I’m lonely at night?

The last thought causes my cheeks to heat. That would be a disaster.

He chuckles. “Relax, Lucia. It was a lucky guess. You’re a concert pianist. It only makes sense that you would love one of the most prolific female pianists of all time. I didn’t break into your Apple Music playlist.”

A small sigh of relief escapes my lips. I take a seat on one stool at the bar across from him.

The kitchen is as stunning as he is. It’s an ode to white and gold marble.

Even the appliances are a soft champagne gold color.

He must have had them custom-made. I look down at the white and gold granite of the bar and smile at the amount of sparkle.

I look up at Rocco as he studies me with curiosity, and I clear my throat once again.

“I didn’t think you paid attention to what I do or love.”

He shrugs. “I’m not a monster.”

I throw him an incredulous look, and he raises his hands in surrender.

“Ok, I’m not a total monster. Just a bit monstrous.” He shrugs and turns to pop a cherry tomato from the counter in his mouth. I don’t know how he made a gesture so simple, sexy as hell, but he did.

“But Lucia, I have no desire to be that way with you. You’re my wife, and if you’re a good girl for me, I think you will find me a very generous lover in every sense of the word. So yes, I pay attention to you, and I admire your skill on the piano.”

I shift my stance and cross my arms to eye him warily. “You’ve heard me play?”

He runs his hand over the five o’clock shadow covering his face.

God, even his scruff is sexy.

“I may have looked up a few of your performances on YouTube. You’re good.”

I blush. “I’m alright. There are so many more pianists who are better than I am. Before I was… taken. They ranked me in the top fifty worldwide.”

“There are not forty-nine musicians better than you, wife. And I’m not just saying that either.

I know more about the piano than you think.

At one point in my life, I held recitals all over this country.

I even played in the orchestra pit of Teatro Massimo for a performance of Aida when I was fifteen years old.

My mother was also a concert pianist before she died. ”

My jaw drops. This can’t be real. There’s no way this man plays the piano at that level. If he did, why the hell is he in the mafia now?

What happened to him?

He laughs. “Close your mouth la mia piccola palla di fuoco. Am I such a Neanderthal? You can’t believe that I was an accomplished musician? Do you think I was born a criminal?”

I shake my head. “No, that’s not it. If you say you were a concert pianist, then you were. You’re not a liar. You’ve been very honest with me about my circumstances, and I appreciate that.”

He gives me a funny look before turning away and stirring his sauce.

“Let’s eat. I’ve made my Nonna’s famous red sauce and orecchiette. Meet me in the dining room. I’ll come soon.”

His voice is gruff, and I’m not sure what changed his mood. Maybe I offended him? That’s not how I wanted to turn over a new leaf with him.

I rise from the bar and head towards what I assume is the dining room. Before I get to the arched doorway, I stop. “Rocco, I apologize if I offended you. I’m just shocked that you appreciate music, since you forbade me from playing ever again.”

Rocco puts the wooden spoon down with a loud smack on the stove. Within seconds, he’s in front of me with his hands on my shoulders.

“Lucia, I did not forbid you to play because I hate or don’t appreciate music. I forbade you to play because it’s not safe for you to be in public. I thought I made that clear.”

He runs his hands up and down my arms. “I love your talent, and I have a grand piano here. I have two, so please play whenever you like. Hopefully, when this is all over, we can find a way for you to perform, but I make no promises. You will always be a high security risk. I want you to know that I respect your art and intimately understand the sacrifice you’re making. ”

I suck in a deep breath. Hearing him say these words takes my anxiety down a few notches.

“OK, I’d like to play for you.” I place a hand on his chest. “Will you return the gesture and play for me one day?”

He takes my hand off his chest and kisses the inside of my palm. “No Lucia, I no longer play for others.”

I look him in his eyes. “Never? Why? If it’s something you loved and were good at before the mafia claimed, you. Why quit it?”

A shadow falls over his face. “That’s none of your business. My past is not something I talk about. The why doesn’t matter. Just know that I don’t play and will not play again. Now, be a good girl and have a seat for me at the table.”

I want to push back and get to the root of the issue, but I decide not to. Instead, I follow directions like a good little slave. His mood swings are too much to keep up with, and I’m hungry.

The rest of the dinner is uneventful. Rocco is an excellent cook, and he looks pleased when I polish off two bowls of the tasty dish. We keep our conversation light. I am dying to have an update on this entire Leo situation and who bombed the safe house. But I know that will be a dead end.

Instead, we stick to facts about Amalfi and all the things he will show me over the next few days. He even shares the history of the Barese women like his Nonna, who are known for their orecchiette. They make it from scratch and sell it illegally in the streets of Bari. The history is fascinating.

When he takes our bowls away, I stretch. “So what’s for dessert?”

He walks over and offers his hand. As I take it, he leans over and whispers, “You are.”

“Wh-wh-at,” I stammer.

He smirks. “You heard me. Strip naked and lie back on the dining table. Present your pussy to me. I want to see how juicy my balls have left your sweet cunt.”

His dirty words warm me from the inside out. I hesitate, and he frowns. I know he wants quick and unequivocal obedience.

If I obey him, he will make me feel good.

If I don’t, I will be punished.

It’s that simple.

Or is it? I’ve never stripped for a man before, and certainly not in a dining room. However, this feels like a defining moment. Either I’m going to trust Rocco, or I’m not. Stripping when he tells me to is a small test that I really want to pass. So, I do it.

I pull down one strap of the silk dress and then the other before shimmying out of the rest of my dress. When I’m standing in nothing but my lace thong, my instinct is to cover my naked breasts, but I remember his words from our wedding night.

You are never to hide from me, Lucia. Your body is my reward. Do you understand?

I stand tall and push my shoulders back. My boldness grows, and my nipples harden as he looks at me with a hungry glare. He gestures to my pussy with his fingers, and I snatch my thong down.

“Come.” The single command causes my body to shiver.

Rocco holds his hand out for me and lifts me onto the dining room table. I look around, nervous that anyone could come in here, but he tsks.

“Don’t worry, beautiful. No one else is home. I’ve given them all the night off so I can feast on you in peace. Sit up for me.”

Rocco grabs a clean table napkin and ties it around my eyes before laying me back down.

“First, I’m going to feast, and then I’m going to fuck you long and hard. When I’m done, you can play me something on my piano.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. Instead, he places both his hands on my body, one on each of my thighs, and he spreads me wide.

My knees hit the table, and I’ve never been so open and exposed to anyone.

He leans down, takes a deep breath while sniffing my sex.

It’s the filthiest and most erotic thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

Not being able to see only heightens my arousal, and I realize that was his plan the entire time.

When he presses down on the top of my sex, it makes the balls scrape against my walls, and I moan in pleasure. He chuckles before reaching in and pulling the balls out. He holds them in front of my face, and they’re glistening with my arousal.

“Lick them clean.” He orders. I’m so turned on that I do it without question. My sweet, musky scent makes me vibrate with even greater need. When I’ve licked them clean, he groans his approval and throws the balls over his shoulder before getting to work.

There are no gentle licks or swipes on my clit.

Rocco dives in and tastes me from ass to clit and backs down again with strong, firm licks before placing his thumb and index finger on my nub to pinch.

The pain is sharp, but then he uses his tongue to lick all around my folds before fucking me with his tongue.

I’m losing my mind.

I squirt, and cum gushes from me as I convulse and thrash.

His tongue continues to go in and out while he pinches and alternately rubs my clit until my body shakes uncontrollably and my voice is hoarse.

The orgasm is strong and violent, probably because he made me wait so long to have it.

When I come down from my high, I register the sound of a condom packet ripping open before I feel his thick shaft push into me.

“Oh fuck,” he says as he draws all the way out and slams back into me ever so slowly. He repeats the motion, even slower, and I’m so full and hot that I feel as though I will combust right on the table.

I call out his name, but he doesn’t answer; he continues to work me over, slow stroke after slow stroke.

I know if I don’t do something soon, I might die from the need to cum.

So, I lock my legs around his back and push him into me while I squeeze my pussy tight. It causes his concentration to stumble.

“Harder… faster…” I pant, and he obliges.

Never one to give up control for long, he pushes down on my stomach, pinning me to the cherry wood table. He leans his torso over to spread my thighs even wider while he slams into me with reckless abandon. I moan and shake my head from side to side as my walls clench.

“That’s it, Lucia. Come for me, come for me right now.”

And I do, my God, I do. There’s no other choice as my screams echo through the house. Then he joins me with a shout and jerks inside of me. I feel the condom fill and the throbbing of his cock against my now relaxed walls.

He gives me a few last strokes before he collapses over me on the table. Our breathing is harsh as we try to catch our breath and slow our heart rates.

There’s nothing left to say.

My husband fucked me into next week and I’m ready to do it again.

Rocco gets up first and unties my blindfold. He kisses each closed eye before slapping one of my breasts, which shakes me out of my sex-induced stupor.

“Let’s go, dirty girl, you owe me a song. I’m in the mood for Verdi.”