“For being patient and careful.”

I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Gaia had enjoyed playing the guilt card, had cried often to make me feel bad even when I’d tried to do everything to be decent.

“Women talk. Some men don’t because it gives them a feeling of dominance, others because they enjoy hurting, and some just want to make sure the blood stain is big so they can impress…”

Surprise filled me at her words. She sounded less like a girl then. “I don’t need to show my dominance by hurting you during sex. I’m Underboss, I rule over people on a daily basis. And while I enjoy hurting when it’s called for, I don’t enjoy hurting women or children. As for the last reason, maybe some men think a big blood stain makes the audience believe they have a huge dick, when in truth it only shows that they have no clue how to work that dick.”

Giulia laughed. Then her smile became teasing. “Do you?”

A low laugh rumbled in my chest. “Know how to work my dick?”

She blushed but nodded.

“I think I do. I know today wasn’t pleasurable for you, but soon it will be.”

She tilted her head in consideration. “Okay.”

I glanced down the length of me. My cock was smeared with blood. I sat up then held out my hand to Giulia. “Can you sit up for a moment?”

With a small frown, she did. “Why?” Then her eyes widened and her gaze darted down her body. “Oh.”

“Just wait a couple of seconds.”

Her nose wrinkled. “That’s kind of disgusting.”

“I know. But it’s tradition.” I brushed her hair from her face again, and Giulia regarded me curiously. Her eyes were a startling blue like a clear summer sky and her nose had the slightest upward tip, which gave her a coy look.

“Do you find me pretty?” she asked, drawing in that plump lower lip between her teeth.

“Yes, I do.” My thumb stroked along the back of her hand—which I hadn’t even realized I was still holding.

“Oh,” she said. “I wasn’t sure. You didn’t act as if you cared much.”

It was a good thing that I’d perfected my poker face over the years and a necessary evil in my line of work. “I did and do find you very attractive.”

“Hmm. Usually I’m good at telling those things. Most men are really obvious about their interest. They get that intense look as if they want to devour you.”

Something angry and dark curled in my chest. “Did it happen often… that men looked at you like that? As if they wanted to devour you?” Despite my best intention, my voice held an edge it hadn’t before.

Giulia tilted her head, considering me in that quiet way of hers. “Occasionally. Sometimes men who visited my father, sometimes strangers when I was out with my bodyguards. It’s not like anyone ever approached me.”

“Good,” I growled.

Her eyebrows darted up. “Are you jealous?”

“Possessive. I don’t share well. Or at all.”

She laughed.

“That’s funny to you? I’m dead serious.”

She rolled her eyes. Rolled. Her. Eyes. I couldn’t even remember the last time someone had dared roll their eyes at me.

“You get jealous over men watching me from afar, knowing full well that you gave me my first kiss in church today? You never had to share me, nor will you.”

“Have you ever given a man that look?” I questioned.

“No,” she said without hesitation.

“A sheltered upbringing doesn’t make you blind.”

She pursed her lips. “I never looked at men long enough to make up my mind about them. It didn’t seem wise, considering I wasn’t going to be the one choosing my husband.”

That was true. She had no say in the matter.

Cassio swung his legs out of bed. “I’m going to clean up.”

My eyes raked over his muscled body, mesmerized by the hard planes, the ridges of his six-pack, and the narrow V of his hips. I was attracted to his body, which was a relief. My gaze dipped even lower, and the blood on his penis drove heat into my head. I looked away. I had been staring too long anyway. Looking down at myself, I cringed at the sight of my smeared inner thighs—a disgusting mix of blood and sperm. I slid out of bed, taking in the mess on the linens A small mortified sound slipped out of me.

“Are you all right?” Cassio rumbled somewhere behind me.

I turned, grimacing. “Do we really have to show these sheets?”

“That was the point of us sleeping together.”

Ouch. “So, you only slept with me because of the presentation of the sheets?”

Now that we were married, I wanted Cassio to be attracted to me. It seemed a horrible fate to spend your life with someone who couldn’t bear touching you. I definitely enjoyed the sight of his body. His touch was still unfamiliar and sex had been painful, but it hadn’t been the ordeal my mother and a few of my aunts had made it out to be. I could imagine enjoying it very much, especially Cassio’s mouth between my legs.

Cassio regarded me strangely, as if I was an unknown creature. Then he shook his head with a chuckle. “I’m a man.”

I headed toward him, also in need of a shower. I felt sticky and sore between my legs. “Is that a reply?” I asked curiously.

Cassio stepped into the bathroom, and I followed him. His eyes traveled over my body, sending an unfamiliar shiver down my back. Now that he’d seen me naked, I didn’t really see the point in covering myself, and he didn’t look as if he minded. Quite the contrary.

I picked up my pace when I felt something trickling out of me and practically leaped inside the shower. Sighing, I relaxed, glad to have avoided a mess.

“You can shower first,” Cassio said.

“We can shower together.” I flushed. “I mean, why waste water? There’s enough room for both of us.”

The corners of Cassio’s mouth twitched. “Save water, right?” He stepped into the shower. With him inside, there wasn’t as much room as I’d thought, and suddenly the realization set in that despite what had happened, we were still very much strangers. I focused on the shower gel, trying to ignore Cassio’s presence as I soaped up my body. It was impossible. Cassio was everywhere. His heat singed my back. His manly scent still clung to me, overpowering the shower gel.

He didn’t say anything, only cleaned himself. From the corner of my eye, I saw him rub his cock clean of my blood. Soon the water at our feet was a soft pink. As I cleaned myself between my legs, I winced at how tender and sore I felt.

“It should be better in a couple of days,” he said.

I turned halfway so I could look at his face but wouldn’t bump into him—which didn’t even make sense considering we’d been much closer only a few minutes before. “That long? I thought I’d be fine tomorrow.”

The shadow of the past crossed his face, his ocean eyes becoming tumultuous. What had happened between his wife and him? “We’ll see,” was all he said, and then he turned off the water. He reached for a towel and handed it to me before he gripped one for himself. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself.

I watched him as I wrapped the towel around me. Physically, we’d been as close as two people could get, but emotionally we were worlds apart. We’d share the bed again—because I’d seen the desire in Cassio’s gaze and because I wanted to. On an emotional level, however, getting closer to my husband would be difficult, I could tell already.