Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 168

Gianna's POV

"But I was wrong." He met my eyes again. "You're still looking for reasons not to trust me. Still putting up walls. And I don't know what else to do, Gianna. I don't know how else to prove to you that this is real for me."

Guilt washed over me. "I'm sorry. I just..."

"Don't push it." He shook his head. "Just relax and let me finish washing you. Please."

The exhaustion in his voice broke me. I nodded, sinking back against the tub, not knowing what else to say.

That's when I noticed it, the bold outline straining against his sleep pants. Even now, even angry and hurt, his body still responded to me.

The guilt intensified even further.

I reached out, my wet hand finding his forearm, trailing up to his bicep. My eyes dropped to where his cock pressed rigid against the fabric.

"Dante, after the pleasure you gave me, it's only fair that I return it. Let me..."

"No." He pulled away from my touch, standing abruptly. Water dripped from his hands back into the tub.

"Please." Desperation filled my voice as I reached for him again, my fingers brushing against the hard length through his pants. "I want to help. Let me do it. It's the right thing..."

His hand caught my wrist, stopping me firmly but not roughly. "I won't let you touch me out of guilt, Gianna."

"It's not only guilt. You pleased me, and I should do the same for you. It's fair..."

"Fair?" A bitter laugh escaped him. "There's nothing fair about any of this."

"Dante..."

"I can't control how my body reacts to you, Gianna." His eyes finally met mine, and the pain there left me speechless. "But I damn well can control what I do about it. And I won't touch you when you've made it clear you don't want me."

"I do want you." Tears pricked at my eyes. "That's the problem. I want you too much, and it terrifies me."

"Not enough to give me all of you, apparently." He released my wrist and stepped back. "Not enough to trust that this is more than just a transaction for me."

He gave me one last rinse, his movements brisk but still gentle. Then he grabbed a towel, holding it open. "Come on. Let's get you dried off so you can get to bed."

The dismissal in his tone was clear. This conversation was over.

I stood on shaking legs, water sluicing down my body as I stepped out of the tub. Dante wrapped the towel around me, his movements still gentle despite everything, and began patting me dry with the same care he had used to wash me.

When I was dry, he lifted me into his arms again and carried me back to the bedroom. The sheets had been changed. On the bed lay a silk nightgown, pale ivory with delicate lace trim.

He set me down gently and reached for the nightgown. His hands were tender as he helped me into it, sliding the silk over my head, adjusting the straps on my shoulders, smoothing the fabric down over my hips. Every touch was tender despite the distance in his eyes.

He pulled back the covers and guided me into bed, tucking the blankets around me like I was precious cargo that might break.

Then he turned away.

I watched as he walked into the closet and returned seconds later.

"Dante... where are you going?"

He didn't turn around. "To have a shower. Lord knows I need it."

He walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

Disappointment flooded through me as I sank deeper into the bed, taking a deep breath. The sound of the shower running filled the room.

He wasn't coming to bed, not yet. Maybe not at all tonight.

I'd pushed him away so thoroughly that even sharing a bed felt like too much intimacy now.

He didn't smile back.

The chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it in. He walked back to his seat and sat down, reaching for his coffee.

"Good morning, Arielle."

The girl looked up from her plate. Her eyebrows rose.

"Morning, Gianna." She set her fork down. "Wow. You're both here. For breakfast. On time."

I reached for the coffee pot, pouring myself a cup.

"Where else would we be?"

"I don't know." Arielle picked up a piece of bacon, waving it between us. "I just figured newlyweds would be sleeping in. Or busy doing adult things."

The coffee pot slipped in my hand. I set it down hard.

Dante's fork stopped halfway to his mouth. He lowered it back to his plate.

"Arielle."

She took a bite of bacon, chewing slowly. Her eyes stayed on us.

"What? I'm just saying what everyone thinks. Newly married couples are usually glued to each other. Can't keep their hands off each other. Too busy making..."

"Arielle." Dante's voice dropped into warning. "Finish that sentence and you'll be banned from your phone for a month. No internet. No movies. Nothing."

She swallowed and grinned. "Dad, no need to be dramatic. I was going to say making memories."