Page 81 of When She Loves
Something warm spreads through my chest at how good it feels to please her. But it’s over all too soon.
I pull on her hair until our foreheads touch. “I have to go,” I say against her lips. “But when I get back, we’re going to finish what we started. This game is done. You’re mine, Cleo. Do you understand? You’re. Fucking.Mine.”
CHAPTER26
CLEO
Rafaele doesn’t come backthat night, and in the morning, I get a message from him saying he needs to go to Syracuse for some meetings.
I wonder if it’s hard for him to be away from me after what happened, the way it is for me. All morning, I amble around the house and pretend to be a functioning human being instead of a needy, lust-filled mess. A movie of what happened in my husband’s office won’t stop playing on repeat inside my head. I imagine what it looked like for him, to see me splayed on his desk with my pussy presented to him like it was dinner.
He ate me like a gourmet meal.
An insistent heat pulsates in the pit of my belly. I have to swap my underwear once or twice. I even consider texting Rafaele that to torture him a bit the way he’s torturing me, but something holds me back.
Something.
As if I don’t know exactly what it is. The bitter taste of my father’s offer is right there, lodged beneath my tongue.
If Rafaele hadn’t left right after he made me come, I would have let him take it all the way. I would have slept with the man my father wants to kill. The man my father wants me tohelpkill.
After lunch, I step out onto the terrace and brace my palms on the stone railing. A cool breeze brushes over my skin. At the edge of the property, tall pines sway in the wind and whisper secrets. I suck in a lungful of fresh air, expanding my chest until it’s full, and then slowly breathe it out.
It does nothing to calm my anxiety or my racing pulse.
This can’t go on. I can’t keep going to Loretta’s and doing inventory, spending my evenings buried in spreadsheets and ignoring this thing hanging over my head.
My mother asked me to come see her yesterday. I knew what it meant, and because I’m a coward, I didn’t go to my old home. Papà wants an answer. And I want…
I think I want Rafaele.
My eyes fall shut. I told myself I’d never surrender to him, but that was when surrender meant defeat.
It doesn’t now. The truth is, I don’t hate my husband anymore. There’s far more to him than meets the eye. He’s more than a don, more than a killer, more than my prison warden.
Rafaele works a lot. Unlike Papà, he doesn’t just sit in his office and expect his capos to bring him their reports. He goes to their territories, helps them with their problems, and he seems to genuinely give a shit about taking care of them.
My father always thought that was beneath him. All he knows how to do is yell and threaten, but I’ve overheard how Rafaele talks to his men, and he doesn’t need to raise his voice to get them to do something. He’s a natural leader, and he has their respect.
And then there’s the way he treats me. The way he makes me feel. Like I’m more than just a fuckup. Like I’ve got something good to give.
I’ve been written off by everyone in my life, one way or another. Everyone but him.
I cover my face with my palms and finally come to terms with it.
I can’t betray him.
Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe I’m allowing myself to be driven by feelings Rafaele may never reciprocate. Maybe. But I’ve never been one to worry about consequences, have I?
I drop my palms and gaze at the clear blue sky.
I will never be Rafaele’s possession.
I will never belongtohim.
But I think I belongwithhim.
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