me. I’d rather lose you now than later, after we’re so entangled it’s a nightmare to separate. I don’t believe in divorce. It isn’t something my family easily does. If we take a vow, it means something. The consequences would be . . . brutal.” He knew she would think, as most people would, that he meant dividing their assets and if they had children, sorting that out.
“I would never go into a relationship with the idea that I can easily get out,” Grace told him, putting her fork on the table in order to pick up her wineglass. Her hand was a little unsteady as she brought the glass to her lips.
“When we’re alone in this house, and that will be most of the time, I would expect my woman to do as I ask her.” He watched her closely.
She blinked. Looked up at him. “In what way?”
“In every way. If I asked you to meet me outside wearing nothing but that little robe that’s lying across your bed right now, I would expect you to do it.”
A soft rose flush slid over her skin and she pressed her thighs together. It was a subtle reaction, but one he’d hoped to see. She reacted in the best possible way. The idea didn’t make her want to talk about rights and equality but was seductive to her. He resisted the urge to scoop her up and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. He knew that wouldn’t be fair to her. His lifestyle wasn’t for a moment or two. It was what he would expect for their lifetime.
“The thing to think about, Grace, isn’t whether or not you need this lifestyle, too. Deep down, where it counts, before you ever commit to me, you have to know that this is something that will satisfy you sexually and in every other way. It can sound exciting, but then get old very fast. Sometimes it will feel one-sided. You won’t always agree with me. Or want to do the things I ask of you.”
She put her wineglass down. He noted she’d drunk more than half. “I might be afraid.”
Her voice quivered, and Vittorio wanted to gather her up and hold her on his lap to comfort her, but he forced himself to remain where he was. “I expect that you will. I also would expect your trust and your communication. You have to tell me that you’re afraid. You have to say when you don’t like something we do. For a relationship to work between us, I need to know how you’re feeling at all times.”
She nodded, her gaze fixed on his face. He liked that she was giving him her full attention when he needed her to.
“That being said, it doesn’t mean we won’t go there, only that we’ll discuss it more and we’ll take things slow until you get to a place you’re no longer afraid.”
“What happens if I don’t do something that you want me to do?”
“Then I would be very disappointed.”
Her lashes lifted and she looked directly back into his eyes. His heart lurched at what he saw there. She didn’t like the idea of him being disappointed. He had to find a way to make certain she would always look at him that way.
“So, no whips.”
“I would never, in any way, hurt you. My woman is the one I love and respect more than any other and I would never want to see her hurt.” He meant that, but didn’t agree that there wouldn’t be whips.
Vittorio wasn’t a man who would ever enjoy seeing tears in his woman’s eyes—Grace’s eyes. He had already passed being interested in her or falling for her, he was there. He’d been in her company for nearly six weeks now and he knew he wanted to spend a lifetime with her. He was giving her an out while he could, and it wasn’t easy. Listening to himself talk about his needs made him feel selfish, and he was afraid the things important to him would drive her away, especially since he couldn’t explain why he needed precise obedience and complete control in his home to keep him sane.
“That’s a good thing.” She finished off her wine and put the glass down, once more picking up her fork to shove her salad around.
Clearly the tempeh wasn’t her favorite and he made a mental note to tell Merry not to serve it to her again.