Marry the Don

Chapter 39

“What do you mean? I thought you said you couldn’t give me contraceptives.”

“I can’t.” She sighed and then sat up and looked at me. “But certain positions can give a shallower angle of penetration, therefore making it harder for the sperm to make it to the womb. Or tricks like

using the restroom immediately after intercourse and bearing down, pushing out the sperm as much as possible. Or ways you can perhaps entice your husband to ejaculate in other places.”

My face bloomed red again at what she was insinuating, and I nodded my understanding.

“Cowgirl.” She said gently, keeping her hands busy, “The position with you on top, can be one of the shallowest positions. It also leaves you in control to remove yourself before he is completely done, though that may alert him to your attempts.”

“Got it.” I sighed, facing this headfirst, “Any other tips.”

“ Spermicidal lubricant.” She added, “Though that maybe hard for you to get your hands on without him seeing the label.” She loaded the test tubes into her bag and removed her gloves. “I wish there was more I could offer you, Mrs. Capasso.”

“I know.” I stood up from the chair and wrapped my arms around my waist, “I’m sorry for taking it out on you before. I just let myself forget my reality for a moment and that was a cold splash of water on my fantasy.”

“What is your fantasy, exactly, Mrs. Capasso?” She asked freely, “If you could choose your path, what would you want out of life?”

I chuckled lifelessly and turned to look down into the flames of the fireplace as I answered her. “I’d choose love.” I smiled sadly, “I’d choose someone who didn’t want me just for my uterus, or my family, or anything else. Just me.” Tears burned behind my eyes as I let the sadness bloom inside of me again. “The worst part of it all is I could have been happy here,” I admitted. “I could have built a life here and that life could have included kids and us all being a family. But I’ll never have that if I’m just the means to an end for the man that should be the center of my world. That’s not a game I get to win.” I sighed again, “Which seems to be the trend of my life so far.”

“Mr. Capasso.” Dr. Travis said with surprise. “We were just-.” I looked over my shoulder and found my husband staring at me from the doorway with what looked like anger glowing in his perfect green eyes. “Did you get what you needed Doctor?” He snapped in his authoritative tone.

“Yes, Sir.” She replied demurely and grabbed the last of her things. “I’ll have the results to you in the morning.”

“Very well.” He moved to the side, indicating her exit, all the while keeping his eyes locked on me.

I turned away, giving him my back as I stared back down into the flames. I fought against the anger that burned inside of my gut and focused more on the hurt. Because I knew from past experiences that Nico could take my anger and turn it into passion. However he couldn’t morph my pain into anything but what it was, so I used it to protect myself from him.

I listened to him slowly prowl across the room toward me and heard him pause at the door to the closet where the mess of lingerie still lay in a heap across the room.

I didn’t even feel shame at him finding the pile. I still only felt defeated.

“Do you not like my gifts anymore?” He finally asked from a few feet behind me.

“I don’t see the purpose of them.” I replied cooly, “Lingerie is a form of seduction and foreplay. My willingness to sleep with you has never stopped you before, so there’s no point in disguises.”

“You’re angry with me.” He stated plainly.

“I’m frustrated.” I corrected him, finally turning from the fire. “But it doesn’t matter what I am, does it?”

“No.” He replied, scowling down at me. “It doesn’t.”

“Glad we have that covered. The doctor said I ovulated already, so your chance to get me pregnant is over for this month.”

He chuckled but didn’t smile. “That’s what has you so angry is it?” “Does it matter?”

“ Surprisingly yes, Little One, it does.”

I walked away from him, angry with myself for opening my mouth at all, and went into the bathroom to wash my face for bed.

He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his massive chest as I went about my nightly routine. “This isn’t anger,” He said after a while. “I’ve seen your anger, and this isn’t it.”

“Well, the designer clothes in the closet disagree.” I snarked back before drowning my face under the faucet and scrubbing the makeup off that I painstakingly applied hours ago to look good for him. Like a stupid foolish girl.

I washed my face until it was raw, and I had no choice but to come up for air and face him again. When I patted the skin dry I caught his reflection in the mirror, still standing exactly as he had been, and for some reason that frustrated me further. “What do you want?” I snapped.

“To understand you.”

“Why?” I turned and put my hand on my hip, “Why do my emotions or feelings matter? You’ve made your intentions clear. I understand exactly where I stand, and I’ll be sure not to forget it again.” I flicked my hand, “ So go on. Go back to your important boy's club downstairs and just leave me alone.”

He moved quickly for such a large man, crossing the space in a few effortless steps leaving me no exit from the room that didn’t involve getting past him. I stood my ground leaning up off the counter and faced him head-on.