Rosalia

By the next day, some of my fear has receded, but I can tell that Angelo is still tense. I wake up before him in the morning—like I have most mornings—and slip under the sheets, tracing kisses up his thighs and all the way to his half-hard cock, teasing it with my lips and tongue. It's soothing to me, a routine that I love, but this morning, when the sensation finally stirs him awake, he reaches for me instead.


'Come here," Angelo says softly, and for a moment, I think he's going to pull me atop him, but instead, he moves me so that I'm curled up against his chest. 'I'd rather lay here with you a little longer instead," he murmurs, pressing his lips against my hair, and I don't argue. As much as I want him, I can feel that he needs this instead, and I find it sweet. I can tell he wants me close, but it's not about arousal. He wants comfort from me, too, and it makes me feel good to be able to give him that.

I also want him happy, more than anything else.

'I want you to get ready to leave for the honeymoon," he tells me over breakfast, his face still creased with concern. 'We're going to leave later today—I've adjusted everything to reflect that. I think it will be safer if we're outside of the country. Get packed while I handle some last-minute business things, and then we'll go on a relaxing vacation while my men and my contacts sort this out here. How does that sound?"


'It sounds good," I tell him, and I mean it. Itdoessound good—time spent away from this place and the mixture of good and bad memories that linger here, time spent with Angelo, without anything to do but simply enjoy each other. Even with the stress of feeling as if we need to leave sooner rather than later, I'm looking forward to it.

'Good." He stands up, giving me a quick kiss. 'I'll be in my office."


I have every plan to let him be until it's time for us to leave, until I have all of my clothes and toiletries and other things packed, and realize that I don't know where my passport is. I don't even really know if Ineedit or not—some things like that don't necessarily apply to the wife of a mafia don flying in on a private jet, but I'm not sure. I have everything else in my leather tote bag for the flight there—a soft cashmere sweater, a book and headphones, my identification, and the credit card I have for emergencies, though I doubt I'll need that, either.

I assume Angelo would know, so I head downstairs to his office. I have a feeling if it's anywhere, it's kept in my father's old office, but I don't really want to go poking around in there myself. I still haven't been in there again since that awful night.

When I knock on the office door, he doesn't answer. I wonder if he's stepped out for a moment—the door isn't locked, so I step inside and immediately see and hear that he's on a call. He's leaning forward over his desk, the phone on speaker, and he looks up at the sound of my footsteps, his face instantly creased with confusion.

'I'm sorry, gentlemen, give me just a moment." He taps a button on the phone and then turns towards me. 'Did you need something, Rosalia?"

I flush, feeling as if I've interrupted him. 'I just—I had a question about my passport. I don't know where it is, and—"

I trail off, seeing the expression on his face. It's the sort of stern expression that sends a pleasurable quiver through me, making my hands tremble a little, but more with anticipation than fear. I can tell that there's going to be consequences—and I also have a feeling that I'm not going to hate them.

'I know where it is," he says calmly. 'But also, this is a question you could have asked me later. If you're going to barge in and interrupt my meetings, Rosalia, it needs to be for a good reason."

I bite my lip, trying not to smile. 'I'm sorry," I tell him contritely. 'I can go—"

'I don't think so,bellisima." Angelo sits back down in his chair, gesturing to the desk. 'I'm going to give you a perfectly good reason for being in here. On your knees,dolce, under the desk. You can finish what you started this morning and suck my cock while I finish my meeting. Just be a good girl, and be quiet about it.'

My entire body is thrumming with anticipation from the moment I realize what he wants, my feet already propelling me forward. I slip under the desk as Angelo moves back into place, giving me just a moment to unzip his suit trousers and slip my hand inside before he goes back to his call.

I hardly notice what they're talking about. Something to do with business numbers and shipments—nothing I care about—but from the moment I take Angelo in my mouth, teasing the tip of his cock with my tongue, I'm buzzing with pleasure, my entire body flushed and hot. I keep quiet, just as he told me, but I can tell thathe'shaving trouble keeping quiet too—his thighs tense, and his free hand balled into a fist against his upper leg—and that gives me a thrill. I'm on my knees beneath his desk, but I have some power over him too, and as I slide my mouth further down his cock than I have before, trying to take more of him into my throat, I feel him stiffen and twitch.

I can feel how wet I am, too. Every time I do this, it turns me on—the feeling of having Angelo in my mouth makes me ache. I slide my tongue over him, wanting to feel every ridge and vein, wrapping my lips around the tip and sucking the way I now know drives him crazy. I can feel the way his hips jerk when I do it, his quick breath that he hides with a cough, and I can tell from the way he throbs in my mouth that he's getting close.

I could tease him a little.It's a wicked thought, one that could get me in trouble, but I can't resist it. I slow down when I'm sure that he's on the edge, licking along the sides of his cock and fluttering my tongue beneath the tip instead of sucking, and when I see his hand clench against his thigh, I know it's working. He might punish me later for it, but it's worth it for the pleasure in the moment, and a part of me likes the idea that Angelo might punish me.

I slide my mouth down again, taking more of him, and the ache between my thighs builds, the pleasure that I'm inflicting on him turning itself back on me. The desire builds, the feeling of teasing and toying with Angelo's cock, the knowledge of what I'm doing—going down on him while he's on a business call, pleasuring him while he goes about his day—driving me wild with that throbbing, aching need.

Before I can stop myself, my hand slips under my skirt, my fingers sliding beneath my panties.Just a touch, I tell myself, forgetting that I'm not supposed to touch myself at all without permission, losing myself so thoroughly in the pleasure of what I'm doing to Angelo, the sensation of having him in my mouth, the filthy idea of all of it. I slide my fingers over my clit, gasping a little around his cock, and once I feel that first burst of pleasure under my fingertips, that heat spreading through me, I can't stop.

It almost feels like I'm in a daze, rhythmically sliding my mouth along Angelo's length as my fingertips toy with my clit. This time when I feel that he's close, his cock stiffening even more between my lips, I don't stop. I'm lost in pleasure, his and mine, and my fingers move faster, my mouth tightening around him.

I don't mean to come. But when I feel that first burst of heat across my tongue, the taste of him filling my mouth, I tip over the edge before I can stop myself. I squeeze my thighs around my hand, forcing myself not to moan, not to cry out, the pleasure rippling through me as Angelo tenses and comes down my throat without a sound, still carrying on his business meeting above me, and that only intensifies my orgasm as I shudder with pleasure beneath the desk, the thrilling humiliation of it all drawing it out until I'm trembling, slipping my soaked hand out from under my skirt as I keep Angelo's cock in my mouth.

I stay that way until his meeting is done, kneeling between his legs with the evidence of my disobedience on my fingers, keeping his soft cock warm between my lips as he finishes his call. I hear him hang up, and he pushes his chair back, his cock slipping free as he reaches down to tuck himself back into his suit trousers and zip up.

Angelo looks down at me, and I already know I'm caught. I can tell he's trying hard not to smile as he reaches for me, taking the hand I used to get myself off—intentionally, I'm sure—as he helps me up off of the floor. 'I would say you were a good girl, Rosalia," he murmurs. 'But you weren't, were you?"

There's no point in lying. I shake my head slowly, and he raises my hand to his lips, flicking his tongue over my fingers. 'You were averybad girl," he murmurs, shaking his head, and I feel my cheeks flush red.

'I'm sorry," I whisper, and Angelo lets go of my hand, turning me gently to face his desk.

'I know you're going to make mistakes, sweetheart," he says softly. 'I'm not angry with you. But you do have to be punished. Have you finished all of your packing?"

I nod. 'Everything," I whisper.

'That's good." He reaches for my skirt, lifting it up over my hips, and I feel his fingers hook in my panties, tugging them down gently. 'Now, I'm going to spank you—fifteen strokes, for coming without permission. Then you're going to take all of your clothes off and go lay on that lounge facing me. You're going to stay just like that for the rest of the day, for me to use whenever I feel like I need a release. And when I'm all done, we'll go upstairs and clean you up, and then we'll leave. Is that understood?"

I nod, biting my lip. 'I'm not going to be allowed to come, am I?"

Angelo shakes his head. 'You already had your orgasm, sweetheart. No more for you, not until we get to Greece. You'll lay there and take my cum, and think about how you're going to earn back your orgasms."

The punishment isn't the spanking, not really. It's how every word seems to go straight between my legs, building my arousal until I'm trembling, my inner thighs sticky with it, gripping the edge of the desk as Angelo begins to spank me. Every slap of his hand burns through me, straight to my core, making me drip with an aching need that makes me whimper and moan, arching my back as if I'm begging for more. I hear him curse aloud when he reaches fifteen, my whimpered count and the moan that follows it is almost lost in the sound of his groan as he drags his zipper down, thrusting his hard cock into me from behind, his hand on the middle of my back as he pushes me down over his desk.

'I've wanted to do this since the first time I spanked you," he growls. 'I've fantasized about bending you over like this so many times." His hand finds my zipper, yanking it down as he strips the dress off over my head, tossing it over his desk as his hands find my breasts, his cock thrusting into me more roughly than he ever has. 'Don't you dare come," he murmurs as I clench around him, shuddering. 'You'renotallowed to come, Rosalia."

For a moment, I think it's impossible. I don't know how to have that kind of control, but something about my tendency to want to please him takes over. I hover there on the torturous edge, clinging to my pleasure with ragged nails as Angelo fucks me hard, his cock burying deeply inside of me with every thrust. I hear his groan as he pulls out, turning me and pushing me to my knees again as he feeds his cockhead between my lips. He strokes himself over my tongue, and I swallow every drop, reveling in the ability to please him even as my entire body throbs with frustrated need.

'Such a good girl," he murmurs, stroking my hair as he paints my tongue with his cum. 'My sweet girl."

He tucks himself back into his trousers for a second time, helping me up. 'Go lay down," he instructs, motioning to the lounge. 'Just like last time. Legs spread, either side of it, so I can look at that pretty, wet pussy while I work."

By the time Angelo is finished working, I'm so aroused I feel like I could die. My pussy feels swollen and tender, every movement sending a burst of pleasure through me that makes me whimper. Lying there with his eyes on me, watching him look up from work casually every so often to let his gaze slide over me, lingering between my thighs for a moment before going back to his computer, drives me wild, making me feel like I'm on the edge without even touching myself. Every so often, he would get up, his cock a thick, hard ridge at the front of his suit trousers, and my heart would leap with anticipation, the arousal between my legs a throbbing, pulsing heartbeat as Angelo would casually drag his zipper down, taking his cock in his hand and looking at me as if deciding what part of me he wanted to use this time. He fucked me once more, pinning my knees to my chest as he drove himself into me in front of the open window, pulling out to spurt cum all over my stomach and breasts. He left me there like that, covered in it, and I thought I wasn't going to be able to bear how aroused I wasthen.

Now, hours later, with my breasts covered in another round of his cum and my face painted with it as well, the taste of him still on my tongue, feels like nothing compared to the desire throbbing through me at this moment.And he said I wouldn't be able to come until we get to Greece. At this moment, that feels impossibly far away.

Angelo shuts his computer down, standing up, and for a moment, I think he might come over and fuck me again. I don't know if I want him to or not—every part of me is aching to have him inside of me, touching me, but I don't know if I can bear any more of the unfulfilled pleasure. For the first time, I'm thinking of saying the safeword, until he walks over and gently helps me up off of the sofa.

He tips my chin up with two fingers, gently kissing me, and steers me towards the door. 'Let's go get you cleaned up," he says softly. 'You look fucking gorgeous covered in my cum, but we do have a flight to catch."

Two hours later, we're boarding the jet, and the ache between my thighs has simmered to something manageable. I set my tote down on one of the seats, sinking into the soft leather and letting out a sigh as Angelo sits across from me. 'I can't wait to get there," I tell him, sinking my teeth into my lower lip, and Angelo chuckles.

'You just want to come." He glances meaningfully down between my thighs, and I fight the urge to squeeze them together.

'I want to spend time alone with you. I mean that," I tell him softly, and he smiles at me, getting up and coming to sit next to me.

'You're perfect," he murmurs, turning my face towards his so he can kiss me. His lips graze over mine, soft and light, and I lean into the kiss, stifling a moan. 'My perfect, beautiful wife. And I can't wait to spoil you even more." His hand settles on my thigh, his other hand stroking my hair, and I can't help but lean into his touch. 'I'm falling for you, Rosalia," Angelo murmurs, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. 'I was afraid to say it too soon, but we're at the beginning of our romantic vacation, going off together as husband and wife for the first time. What better time could there be to say it?"

His hand presses against my cheek as I feel my eyes mist over, his fingers brushing lightly over my skin. 'This was all so very unexpected," he says softly. 'I still feel guilty sometimes. Like I shouldn't have you…like I've talked you into this, like I'm orchestrating this somehow, and you'll wake up and realize you deserve so much more. But you're so much more than I could have ever dreamed of wanting, Rosalia. I'm falling in love with you, and even as hurried as we were leaving—I can't wait for this trip with you."

When he kisses me, it takes my breath away. I struggle to blink back tears, kissing him back soft and slow, the frustrated arousal forgotten in the sheer pleasure of feeling his mouth on mine. 'I feel the same way," I whisper when he pulls back a bit, his fingers still stroking through my hair. 'You make me feel safe. I wanted you to marry me from the very start, as soon as I ever knew it was a possibility. And this life that I have with you now—everythingabout it—makes me happier than I knew I could be. I wish it could have come about a different way—but it makes me happy, nonetheless."

Angelo nods, sitting back a little as he looks at me, his brow creased in thought. 'Some of the guilt comes from not knowing if Vincezio would approve," he admits. 'I know he wanted me to marry you, but sometimes I wonder if he knew me well enough to make that decision. I was gone for so long."

I frown at him, sitting up and shaking my head. 'No," I tell him firmly. I see his eyebrow rise—I've never talked to him in so stern a voice before, but I want…I need him to understand this, to believe me. 'Of course, my father would have approved."

Gently, I reach for him, pulling him in to kiss me again. 'You're the only man he would have ever trusted me with," I tell him quietly, moving closer so that I'm leaning against him, curling into the safety and warmth of the man that I, too, am falling in love with.

The only man I trust, too. And the only one I want to love, forever.