My Father Traded Me for the Don's Sister, So I Married the Don novel · Chapter 5 of 32

Chapter 5: Your Own Room

"Ask me now," I said.

He didn't move.

"Raffaela."

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of how much I want to stay. That's different, and you know it."

His thumb stopped on my cheek.

In the dark I heard him swallow.

"Turn on the lamp," he said.

I reached over him and found the switch.

Warm yellow light filled the bed.

For the first time I saw his face with no table or desk or priest between us.

His eyes were very dark, and his mouth was not hard at all.

"I ask once," Luca said. "You tell me what you want. All of it, not a piece."

"I want you inside me."

His thumb stopped moving.

"And?"

"I want it slow the first time, and then I want it not slow."

His breath went out of him in a short, rough laugh.

"Mrs. Vannelli."

I grinned up at him.

"And I want the light on."

"You'll get the light on."

He sat up against the headboard and took hold of the hem of my nightgown.

"Arms."

I raised my arms, and he drew it up over my head and dropped it on the floor.

He didn't touch me.

He looked.

I had been looked at before, quickly, in dim rooms.

Nobody had ever taken their time.

His gaze moved over my breasts and my ribs and the soft curve of my stomach.

It moved down to the dark between my thighs, and I felt it on every inch.

"Beautiful," he said.

"You haven't taken anything off."

"I'm getting to it."

He pulled his T-shirt off over his head.

He was broad and lean, with dark hair on his chest, and a puckered scar under the left ribs the size of my thumb.

"What's that?"

"My father's sit-down. Three years ago." He caught my hand before I could touch it. "Later. Not tonight."

He laid me back against the pillows and kissed me.

It was a different kiss from the other two.

It was slow and wet and thorough.

When I opened to him, his tongue stroked mine and my hips lifted off the bed.

His hand cupped my breast, and his thumb rubbed across the nipple until it hardened.

"Luca."

"I know."

He moved his mouth down my neck, to the hollow of my throat, to the swell of my breast.

He took my nipple between his lips.

I cried out and arched.

He sucked, and licked, and bit very gently, and my fingers dug into his hair.

"Please."

"Patience."

He smiled against my skin.

"I've been patient since the vows."

"You've been patient for a day and a half." His mouth curved against my skin. "I've been patient for three years."

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