Page 54 of Urgent Vows
Stepping back, I jerk my head toward the toilet. "Tend to your needs," I repeat her modest words back to her.
She glares. "Please, leave."
"That is not going to happen."
She does not want access to every part of my life and I am glad for that, because I cannot give it to her. Mafia business is off limits to her. She never needs to see the monster who rules my men with an iron fist.
But just like those men, she is mine. Every part of her.
Catalina jiggles a little, making her tits shift enticingly. "I mean it, Severu, I need to go."
"Then go."
"Why are you doing this?"
"I told you."
"Because you don't want me keeping secrets from you. I won't, but peeing isn't a secret. It's a bodily function." She presses her legs together and moans a little. "Please, Severu."
"I would prefer to hear you pleading for my cock."
"After this? Good luck with that."
I take that as the challenge it is meant to be. But first things first. I step forward, yank up her nighty and set her on the toilet.
There is the sound of liquid splashing into the bowl almost immediately.
I kiss her chastely. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"You are a control freak," she accuses.
That is one name I own. "You think any other type of man could command the New York Cosa Nostra?"
"I don't want to be commanded," she says grumpily.
"That's not true, Catalina. You enjoyed being commanded in bed last night very much."
"Out of bed," she clarifies.
Her honesty pleases me so much, I leave her to finish up without my presence. Unfortunately for my strong-willed wife, though she is my queen, she still must obey me. Even out of the bedroom.
I have no intention of curbing her freedoms unless it comes to her safety, but there are things she will have to do simply because she is the don's wife.
Fetching the dress she wore yesterday, along with a fresh pair of underwear because my soldier had enough foresight to buy multiple pairs, I carry the clothes back into the bathroom.
Catalina is staring at herself in the mirror, her expression troubled.
"What is wrong?" I ask.
"I'm supposed to wear makeup, but I don't have any. And I don't like it. Only I don't want to be seen in public with your mom with this bruise on my cheek showing."
I like the way she catalogues her thoughts without a filter.
Luckily the bruise on her cheek isn't as big as the red handprint was yesterday. Only a small spot just over her cheekbone is showing discoloration. "My sister can help you with your makeup today."
"Okay, but what about tomorrow?"
"I'm sure my sister will teach you."
