by Sarah Curtis
"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."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Olivia retched into the toilet. She wasn't surprised she was throwing up, she'd been fighting nausea for the last few days. She felt a hand land on her nape and groaned. "I thought you were downstairs in your office."
"Maria came and got me. She heard you getting sick."
She closed her eyes, ducking her head. "I don't want you to watch me being sick." Throwing up was not a sexy act. Tearing eyes, runny nose, not to mention what came out of one's mouth. Gross. Thankfully, she'd remembered to flush after the last wave of sickness hit.
"Our vows specifically said in sickness and in health. What kind of a husband would I be if I failed my first test?"
Olivia smiled, standing from the toilet. Nausea gone, she surprisingly felt fine. "I'm feeling better now."
Nico turned the cold water on in the sink, running a washcloth under the faucet. "I don't like that you're sick."
Nico was scowling and it made her smile again, finding it funny he was getting angry at a virus. "I don't like it either, but I'm sure I'll live. I think I've been fighting a bug and the bug finally won."
Nico's scowl grew deeper. "You pigged out on popcorn just fine yesterday."
They'd had a "date night" the night before—the fifth week in a row. It had become a Thursday night tradition, and last night, they'd gone to the movies.
"I did not pig out." She grabbed her toothbrush and smothered it with paste.
"Tesoro, you ate the whole tub."
"I seem to recall you sticking your hand in it a couple of times," she mumbled around a mouthful of foam.
He raised an eyebrow.
She spit into the sink and rinsed before drying her face on a towel. "Okay, so I ate most of it. Like I said, I've been fighting a bug. Yesterday I was winning." She shrugged. "This morning, the bug won." She tossed the towel back on the sink.
He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. "What are you doing?"
"Tucking you back into bed then calling the doctor." Acting out his intentions, he whipped out his cell, hitting a button, and bringing the phone to his ear.
She did not want to know why he had a doctor on speed dial. "I don't need a doctor."
He ignored her while he talked.
She waited for him to hang up and slip his phone back into his pocket before saying, "Nico, really, you're being ridiculous. Give it a few days then I'm sure I'll be fine."
"I'm sure you're right but better safe than sorry. And I'm never ridiculous, especially when it comes to you."
She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back with a dramatic huff. "I'm supposed to go to lunch with your sister today."
"I'm sure Gabriella will understand."
"Really, Nico, I'm feeling fine now. I wish you wouldn't make such a fuss."
Nico gave her a speculative look then sat at the edge of the bed. He pried open her arms and took her hand. "What's this all about? Why are you being so stubborn about seeing a doctor?"
Olivia shrugged. Thinking back on their conversation, she did feel silly, but she couldn't ignore the ball of panic that churned in her stomach at the thought of seeing a doctor.
Giving her hand a squeeze, Nico said, "Tell me what's going on in that head of yours."
She picked at the hem of her t-shirt, refusing to meet his eyes. "With my mom getting so sick and all the doctors we've seen, I guess I'm just worried the doctor will find something seriously wrong with me. God. That sounded even more stupid aloud than it did in my head."
"Nothing you say is stupid. And you have nothing to worry about. I'm being an overbearing, overprotective tyrant who only called a doctor to put his mind at ease. And with the hopes he'll give you something to make you feel better." He kissed the top of her head. "Now try to get some rest. I'll bring him up when he arrives."
She watched Nico leave,
shutting the bedroom door behind him on the way out. She snuggled into her pillows with a sigh, discovering she really was tired, but thoughts of doctors brought her mother to mind, and she couldn't turn off her worries.
The past month, her mother, while not getting any worse, hadn't gotten any better either. She'd been so hopeful after her mom had first arrived, seeing her improvement in just a few weeks with round the clock care. But now it was as if she were in a holding pattern and Olivia right along with her, waiting optimistically for a turn for the better, praying she didn't take a turn for the worse.
During her visits she kept a brave face, always upbeat, not wanting to show her mom her worry. But some nights, when her mom had a particularly bad day or seemed excessively tired, Olivia's fear would get the best of her, and she'd cry herself to sleep in Nico's arms.
He'd whisper soothing words to her in Italian until she would finally drift off. She never told him what that meant to her, having his arms wrapped around her, holding her, and giving her comfort, lending her his strength to face her mom the next day with a smile.
She knew Nico could be vicious—she'd seen it with her own eyes. She didn't fool herself, she knew what kind of man he was and what he was capable of doing, but with her, he was sweet and patient. Oh, he was bossy on occasion. Okay, on a lot of occasions, but it was still a sweet kind of bossy, thinking he was acting in her best interests.
A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts, and an older gentleman stepped through followed by Nico.
"Tesoro, this is Dr. Greene." He turned to the doctor. "My wife, Olivia."
Dr. Greene set his bag down at the foot of the bed. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Conti. Nico tells me you're not feeling well. That you've been feeling queasy and actually vomited this morning."
Olivia looked over the doctor's shoulder, shooting daggers at her husband. She'd hoped to cow him into feeling guilty, but at his grin and soft chuckle, she had a feeling she'd failed in her endeavor.
"So tell me, any other symptoms other than nausea?" Dr. Greene asked as he opened his bag, pulling out a thermometer.
Olivia shrugged. "Not really. I'm more tired than usual, but I guess that's to be expected if I'm sick."
The doctor made a noise of agreement as he clicked a button on the digital thermometer. "Open up. Let's get your temperature."
It wasn't long before he was pulling the thermometer out when it beeped. "Just a touch over normal. Any chance you could be pregnant? Do you know when your last period was?"
Her mind stilled at his question then went into overdrive. She hadn't had her period since right before she met Nico two months ago. Her eyes flew to his. He looked calm. Not surprised or concerned in the least. In fact, his expression was blank.
"Um... It's been a few months." She kept watching Nico's face. Nope. Nadda. Vacant.
"I'm going to draw a little blood. I'll have the results to you by the end of the day, but I have a feeling that's what we're dealing with. Stay in bed the rest of the day, just in case it's something else."
After drawing some blood, the doctor packed his bag and left. Nico filled the spot at her bedside.
"You knew, didn't you?" she accused.
"I had my suspicions, but I wanted a doctor to tell you. The odds were high. We haven't been using protection."
"I feel like an idiot for not thinking of the possibility myself."
"That's the second time you've belittled yourself this morning. I'd like you to stop. You're not stupid nor an idiot."
And Mr. Sweet Bossy had made a reappearance. "Yes, sir."
Nico grinned, capturing her wrists while pushing her back flat to the bed. He held her down, his body covering hers, and his hands holding hers on either side of her head. "I like when you call me that."
Olivia giggled. "You would." He smirked, but she grew serious. "Are you upset that I might be pregnant? I couldn't tell by your expression. I know we've never talked about—"
He stopped her words with a kiss. His lips meeting hers, tenderly at first, then gaining in intensity. "Tesoro, I love that you're having my baby," he said, his lips still so close, they brushed against hers as he spoke.
She melted beneath him, not realizing how worried she'd been until he said the words. "Okay."
"Okay." He kissed her lightly on the lips once more before releasing her and getting up.
"Now, I need to get back to work. I want you to do as the doctor said and stay in bed the rest of the day."
"Yes, sir." She gave him a salute followed up with a sassy smirk.
At the door he turned. "Keep it up, and I'll expect you to call me that when I've got my cock planted deep inside you, and you're begging me to let you come." He stepped through the door, quickly closing it behind him, ensuring he got the last word.
Which had been a wise decision because it took Olivia a full minute to come back to her senses.
A few hours later, there was a knock at the bedroom door, and Gabby peeked her head in. "Oh, good you're up. Nico said I wasn't to disturb you if you were sleeping."
"Oh no, Gabby, I'm so sorry. I forgot to call you and cancel lunch."
Gabby waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. I only waited at the restaurant for ten minutes before I tried calling you, then called Nico when you didn't answer. He told me you were home sick."
"God, I feel so bad. I'm sorry I left you hanging."
"Stop apologizing." She tilted her head. "Although, you don't look sick. Was it all just a ploy to ditch me?" She transformed her expression into a mock pout.
Olivia laughed. "No. I was sick this morning, but the doctor thinks it may be a nine-month illness."
It took her a few seconds, but then her lips turned up in a smile. "I'm going to be an aunt?"
Olivia was all smiles too. "It looks like it."
"Yippee!" Gabby threw herself at Olivia and gave her a hug. Backing away but still holding onto her arms, she said, "This calls for a celebration. Let's go raid the kitchen and have a bed picnic."
* * * * *
Nico paced the length of the pool, cell phone in one hand, cigarette in the other. He felt like an expectant father, which in all actuality, he was. He'd just ended the confirming phone call.
He tossed his smoke and crushed it under his toe. Time to quit, and he now had the motivation to do so. The last thing he wanted was to smell like smoke around Olivia and possibly make her feel queasier.
He smiled, envisioning her growing round with his child. He'd never thought about becoming a father, hell, he'd never thought about becoming a husband, but he found he liked the idea. A little girl that looked just like her mamma. No, scratch that. He'd go crazy if he had a little girl that looked like Olivia. One Olivia was bad enough. For his sanity, he needed boys. Only boys.
And with that in mind, he set off to find his wife, tell her the good news, and inform her it was now her job to give him a boy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"Please tell me she's not going to be there," Olivia said into the bathroom mirror as Nico came up behind her. They were getting ready to go to his parents' house for Thanksgiving dinner, and she'd been fretting about an encounter with Elena all week.
"She comes to all family functions. But I won't let her get near you."
"I'm more concerned about her being near you."
His arm snaked out to wrap around her waist with his hand resting low on her belly. At twelve weeks she wasn't showing yet, but there was the barest bump where her stomach was once flat that didn't go away, even when lying down.
His other hand fisted the long fall of her hair, brushing it to the side so he could plant his lips
on her neck. "Though I find your jealousy sexy, you've no need to worry. When you're in a room, you're all I see."
Her head tilted of its own accord, giving him greater access to the line of her neck, her lids falling to half mast as she watched him through the mirror. "I'm not jealous."
"You're jealous."
She heard the smile in his voice, and it pissed her off. "Not jealous, worried. I have a feeling she going to try to start trouble." His lips landed on the sensitive bit of skin right behind her ear, and his tongue came out, giving the spot a lick.
"Try, being the operative word. She won't succeed," he whispered into her ear.
His hand dipped into the waistband of her panties, his fingers sliding between her folds, discovering how wet she was. A growl filled her ear, and she shivered.
"How... how do you know she won't succeed?" She was quickly losing track of the conversation. Her husband had that effect on her.
"Because I won't allow it."
His fingers slipped inside her heat, his thumb found her clit, and she gave up. Not caring about Elena. Not caring they were going to be late because she still needed to get dressed and do her makeup. Not caring about anything but Nico's fingers and the delirious pleasure they created between her legs.
The gathering for Thanksgiving was significantly smaller than Olivia's last visit to Nico's parents' home, but the enthusiasm and curiosity surrounding her, no less so. Olivia directed her mom to a large wingback chair, introducing her to Aunt Teresa who was sitting in its counterpart. Seeming to get along quite well, she left them to their own devices when they started chatting about the best cake recipe.
Olivia shook her head, whispering to Nico, "I didn't even know my mom could bake."
Before Nico could answer, is mom called out, "You're late."
Hugged tightly to Nico's side, Olivia pinched his ass as Dona descended on them. Of course, he just chuckled, not caring he'd made her look bad when it was his fault they were late.
"I've been holding dinner waiting for you to arrive."