The Unwanted Wife (10 page)

“Don’t you realise how
foolish
I feel?” She suddenly whispered, lowering her gaze to her feet. “Meeting them now… what must they think of me? I feel like I’m on display… your mystery wife who has shunned them for more than a year.” He took a hesitant step toward her before wrapping his arms around her and dropping his forehead to hers. He brought his hands up to cup her face.

“They’ll know whose fault it was, Theresa… I’ll make sure of that,” he promised huskily.

“How?”

“I’ll get them to believe that I really
was
too possessive to share you with them. They’ll think that I wanted you all to myself.”

“But that would make you look…” she struggled to find the correct word. “… insecure.”

“Maybe…” he shrugged carelessly. “Or maybe they’ll take one look at you and understand why I’d react like that.”

“What do you…” his thumbs pressed to her soft lips, silencing the question.

“Silly little Theresa,” he chided softly. “I may not have said it much, or at all for that matter but you’re so beautiful I ache just looking at you sometimes.” She wasn’t beautiful; she
knew
she wasn’t but just this once she wanted to believe him, especially since he seemed to mean it. She had never seen such stark honesty in his eyes before and it warmed her down to her toes. He leaned even closer, his lips just millimetres away from hers when an amused voice had them leaping guiltily apart.

“Come on guys, your honeymoon ended a year and five months ago. Give it a rest!” It was Gabe, coming up behind them. Theresa went a fiery red, while Sandro merely frowned, hunching his shoulders and dropping his hands into his pockets. He slanted a quick and inscrutable look at Theresa, who immediately averted her eyes. She couldn’t think about that achingly sweet moment and she certainly couldn’t wonder about that near-kiss, not right then.

She was quiet on the drive home and still confusing reality with fantasy. Sandro‘s friends had been lovely and she’d enjoyed cheering them on from the sidelines. She had been a bit uncomfortable around the other wives and girlfriends at first but they’d been so genuinely welcoming that Theresa had relaxed almost immediately. Sandro’s constant attention had helped a lot. He would often trot over to where she was sitting to ask if she was okay, if she needed anything, if she was warm enough and it had become embarrassing after a while, especially when his friends had started ribbing him about it. Theresa had known, of course, that it was all an act but it had still been a heady sensation to have his entire focus on her like that. Theresa had found the actual football game surprisingly riveting, especially since she had been unable to tear her eyes off of her graceful, talented husband. Afterwards they’d had a barbecue and again, Sandro had been constantly attentive and almost affectionate, holding her hand or wrapping his arm around her shoulders. After the initial awkwardness, Theresa had found herself relaxing more and more.

Now in the confined space of the car, there was a shimmering tension between them and Theresa leaned forward to fill the silence with music but he caught her hand to prevent her from turning on the CD player.

“Don’t…” she turned to look at the silhouette of his profile but he kept his eyes glued to the road.

“But…”

“Did you have a good time tonight?” He asked gruffly.

“Yes… they’re all lovely people.”

“I’m glad.” Silence again. He still hadn’t released her hand, keeping it pinned between his hard thigh and his large hand.

“Everybody really liked you,” she could hear the warmth in his voice but didn’t know if it was directed at his friends or at her. “I was…
proud
… to have you there.” She blinked, not at all sure how to take that. “And I felt guilty for leaving it for so long. I never meant to make you feel like I was ashamed of you, Theresa… I didn’t want to marry you, it’s true, but not at any point did I ever feel that you would shame me.”

“Thank you for saying that,” she whispered. “It means a lot.” His hand tightened on hers before he let her go and she reluctantly lifted her hand from his thigh. There was silence again but this time it didn’t feel quite so unfriendly and unwelcome anymore.

Chapter Six

They got home after midnight and while Sandro proceeded to lock up, Theresa wearily headed for the shower in the upstairs guest bedroom that she was still determined to occupy, despite Sandro forcibly moving her back to the Master Suite every night. She was standing beneath the hot, relaxing spray of the multiple shower heads in the luxurious guest bathroom, her forehead pressed to the cool tiles, when a rush of cold air alerted her to the fact that the frosted glass door to the cubicle had slid open. She turned around with a resigned sigh and watched as Sandro turned to close the shower door behind him, offering her a tantalizing glimpse of the beautiful bottom that she had so admired earlier in the evening, while he’d been chasing a ball up and down Gabe’s lawn. He turned back to her and shook his head with a weary sigh.

“You are, without a doubt, turning into one of the most stubborn people I know, Red,” he groaned.

“I
want
that divorce, Sandro,” she insisted, trying not to drop her eyes to his eager erection. He smiled slightly, taking a step towards her.

“I know,” he admitted tiredly, reaching around her to grab the body wash and sponge dangling from the ornate faucets. His arms brushed against her naked flesh with every move he made and she tried desperately to shield her body’s eager reaction from him and folded her arms over the burgeoning red tips of her breasts.

“A.and… I don’t love you anymore,” she continued desperately, watching as he applied the fragrant body wash to the soft sponge. He kept his gaze on the sponge in his hand.

“I know,” his voice sounded a little strange but when he looked up again his expression was neutral. He raised his hand and gently started running the sponge over her folded arms.

“And I don’t want to stay in the same room with you anymore,” her voice quivered embarrassingly when he grasped one slender wrist with a big, gentle hand and lifted her arm away from her breasts to run the sponge down the underside of said arm and up towards her sensitive armpit. Her already hard nipples tightened to the point of pain. She swayed slightly, trying not to moan in pleasure, when he lifted the other arm and subjected it to the same sensual treatment.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” he whispered in response to her former statement, his eyes fixed on her obviously aroused breasts. He stepped even closer, crowding her with his large body and backing her up against the smooth tiles. The sponge swept across first one tight bud, then the other, so lightly she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the touch or not.

This time because he was so close, his every little move brought his hard, smooth chest in brushing contact with the painfully erect little tips, it was all she could do to maintain her train of thought. The sponge was sweeping down between her breasts now and down over her torso, her flat stomach and further down still, over her abdomen and between her…

She sucked in a harsh breath when he quite deliberately dropped the sponge to replace it with his fingers.

“And… I want a… a…” she panted, when his fingers continued to stroke insistently down where she was most sensitive and one of her hands latched onto his wrist to curb the movement. He remained undeterred, staring down into her upturned face raptly. “A divorce…”

“You said that already…” he pointed out, his chest starting to heave as he sought to control his reaction to her obvious arousal. His hungry gaze dropped from her face to her small breasts, where her hard, raspberry pink nipples were starting to peek through the rapidly disintegrating suds. With a desperate groan he removed his hand from between her thighs, dropped to his knees and palmed the small mounds, taking one sudsy bud into his hungry, hot mouth. Theresa arched back at the electrifying touch, her back bowing and her head hitting the tiles with a thud.

Her big, beautiful husband, who knelt like a supplicant at the temple of her body, licked and kissed his way across the shallow valley between her breasts to find the other aching peak while his large hands swept down her body to her narrow hips, which he determinedly anchored to the tiled wall in an effort to keep her still. Theresa shuddered wildly and her hands buried themselves in his wet hair before restlessly moving to his shoulders where her nails dug in.

He finally rose to his feet again, pinning her to the wall with his entire body, his erection throbbing urgently where it was trapped between his hard ridged stomach and her narrow torso. He had his hands braced against the wall on either side of her head, while he thrust himself gently against her torso. He kept his hot, narrowed gaze on her nakedly vulnerable face, his own face was a mask of tight control while his eyes were ablaze with an emotion she did not recognise and could not read.

His eyes were restlessly darting from her own half-closed eyes, to the full, lower lip which she had caught between her small, white teeth. With a slightly muffled curse, he groaned and lowered his head until his mouth touched hers. Theresa’s entire body went rigid as his lips gently nuzzled against hers, demanding nothing, just exploring the unfamiliar contours of her ripe, generous mouth. His strong hands moved from where they were braced against the wall to tenderly cup her face, fingertips meeting in the middle of her brow and palms resting on either side of her jaw. His mouth gradually demanded more, moving insistently against hers until she sighed and melted against him as her own mouth explored his. His tongue, tasting of mint, ran over her lips seeking entry into her mouth and she opened up for him, wanting this so much she ached.

Her hands fluttered up wonderingly, cupping his jaw in an effort to bring him even closer and he was happy to oblige, his kiss going even deeper than before. She felt as if she was being consumed by him, greedily eaten alive and absorbed into him. It was the most intense experience of her life and from the way he throbbed against her torso she guessed he felt pretty much the same. He reluctantly lifted his mouth from hers to look down into her face with a penetrating stare that seemed to see right into her soul and then he smiled. A completely open, unguarded and boyish smile, the like of which she had
never
seen from him before. She barely had time to catch her breath before his mouth was on hers again, thoroughly plundering it. She moaned hungrily and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands were moving now, roaming all over her soft, naked flesh before gripping her tight backside and hoisting her up until she had her slender thighs wrapped around his waist.

He lifted his mouth from hers and dropped his face into her neck to lick the droplets of water that had pooled in the sensitive hollow there before moving back up to claim her lips again devouring her with his lips, teeth and tongue. Theresa was completely overwhelmed by his unexpected passion, he had never seemed this out of control before and she felt like she was simply being swept along with the tide. He tightened his grip on her behind before, half-stumbling; he carried her out of the shower, through the bathroom and into the bedroom where he barely managed to get them both onto the bed. Theresa’s feet touched the carpeted floor and her backside was half-off the bed but she didn’t care one whit for the discomfort when, with barely a pause from his ravaging mouth, he surged into her… she managed to tear her mouth away to cry out; the sound harsh and raw in the silence of the room.

Her entire back arched, until only her head touched the bed, while she raised her legs to wrap them around his waist again, her ankles crossing over his taut, pistoning buttocks and her arms wrapped around his broad back, while her nails dug into his flesh and drew blood. Sandro was making sobbing, desperate sounds into her mouth but he still refused to relinquish her lips, coordinating the thrusts of his tongue with those of his driving hips and Theresa’s muffled moans took on the same frenzied rhythm.

His hands moved up to wrap themselves in her wet hair, tilting her head back almost violently to get better access to her mouth. His wet body slid and rubbed over hers, his muscles bunched beneath the taut satin of his skin and Theresa’s body burned at every point of contact. One of his hands swept back down to one of her thighs, lifting her hips even higher to allow him even deeper penetration.

More! More! More!
She tried to say the words but she couldn’t with his mouth on hers, so she moved hands to his behind to pull him closer, she wanted him closer, harder, deeper and he knew it… because he adjusted accordingly and she sobbed into his mouth, feeling like she was dying an exquisite death. She spiralled higher and higher and when she reached the pinnacle, she spun out of control, freefalling back down to earth with a scream that was swallowed into his mouth. Her entire body clenched around him and Sandro, feeling her climax, was unable to hold back… his breath laboured in and out of his lungs as he fought for control but he was as lost as she was and lifted his mouth from hers long enough to release a hoarse shout that she barely recognised as her name. His body arched violently and he lifted her from the bed and into his lap as he held her as close as he could, his strong arms wrapped around her narrow back as his body jerked within hers and his lips fell back onto hers, gentler this time as his body continued to thrust lazily. He hugged her even closer and while he knelt on the edge of the bed, her legs straddled his hard thighs, her chest pressed to his and her arms were tightly wrapped around his neck as she fought to keep her balance while he nuzzled her mouth with his. He finally went completely boneless and collapsed down onto the soft bed, taking her with him and keeping her wrapped up in his arms with one of his hard thighs still pressed between hers. He was still kissing her, lifting his mouth from hers to nuzzle her neck and kiss her shoulders before coming back to her mouth over and over again as if he could not get enough of the taste of her. His hands were petting her all over and gradually their breathing slowed down and their mutual trembling abated slightly. He was a gentler, softer presence inside her now, only occasionally twitching as if to remind her that he was still there.