Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

When Adrian finally came out of the bathroom, ten minutes later, he was barefoot and wearing only a pair of black pajama pants that rode low on his hips. My eyes betrayed me, trailing over him before I could stop myself. He wasn’t like other men I knew. Many of them, after marriage, let themselves gain weight. But Adrian hadn’t softened at all. His chest and arms were carved muscle, his abdomen was taut, his presence radiated strength and control. There was nothing gentle about him, not in his body, not in his expression, not even in those sharp stormy eyes.

If he noticed me staring, he didn’t mention it. He simply crossed to the bed, pulled back the covers, and lay down beside me. He left a wide strip of space between us, enough room for another person to fit comfortably in the middle.

A pang tightened in my chest. Was that how it was going to be? I had imagined marriage differently- softer and warmer. I had imagined closeness, the kind I’d only ever seen from afar.

Snuggling. The word felt childish, and yet it was exactly what I longed for. I wanted to curl against someone and be held, I wanted to feel safe and wanted at the same time. I’d never felt that kind of comfort. I wasn’t allowed boyfriends, of course. That had been forbidden. My father would never have permitted it. And though I adored him, I was far too old to rest my head on his chest the way I had when I was little. My mother… well, she had never been the type to show affection in that way.

Now I had a husband, one who was supposed to belong to me in every sense, and still the space between us felt like a brick wall.

Adrian turned his head toward me. “What is it?” he asked. “You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to try anything. We did our duty.”

That word hit me like a stone.

Duty.

Honor. Duty. Responsibility. My entire life had been built on those words, pressed into me by my parents, my family, our traditions. Now they were following me into my matrimonial bed, a cold reminder that even something so intimate wasn’t entirely mine.

“That’s not it,” I whispered. “I just… I…”

The words faltered, lost somewhere between my heart and my lips.

Adrian’s brows drew together. “Valentina, You do know that I’m not a mind reader, right?. And I don’t have the patience to guess what’s going on in your head.”

Tears stung my eyes at the roughness of his words, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

He let out a long breath, softer this time, and pushed up onto one elbow. The movement brought him a little closer. “Are you in pain?” he asked in a lower voice now, more careful. “Did I hurt you more than I thought?”

Of course, he’d assume that. For Adrian, everything came down to the physical. To what he could fix with his hands or endure with his body.

Chapter 20

“Valentina?” His hand moved, brushing

unexpected shiver through me.

over my bare shoulder. The heat of his skin against mine sent an

“Can we-“The words were stuck in my throat.

I couldn’t bring myself to ask a man like Adrian to snuggle. That sounded too childish, too needy. Instead, I shifted closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, and kept hold of his hand as though it anchored me.

“Can we just… be close like this for a while?” I finished in a whisper.

For a long second, he didn’t move. His eyes stayed on me, unreadable, and the silence stretched until I wondered if I’d overstepped. Then, finally, without a single word, Adrian leaned back against the pillows. He raised his arm in a quiet invitation, creating space beside him.

Relief washed through me, and I slid against him, tucking myself into his side. My cheek found the solid plane of his chest, hard muscle beneath warm skin. Automatically, one of my legs curled over his thigh, a clumsy attempt at comfort that made my face burn with self–consciousness.

He smelled good, like clean soap mixed with something distinctly him. Strong, warm, and undeniably masculine. I breathed it in like it was air I hadn’t known I needed.

At first, his arm lay loosely around me. But when I let out a quiet sigh, a sound I hadn’t meant to make, he drew me closer.

I stayed still, but my hands were awkwardly trapped against my chest.

Gathering my nerve, I slid one hand across his chest and rested it there. His skin was hot under my palm, his heartbeat was steady.

Before long, my fingers betrayed me. Restless and curious, they traced the ridge of a muscle, then landed on

his chest.

Until this day I hadn’t been allowed to touch a man, to discover his body. I idly traced the smattering of hair on his pecs, realizing that I liked the feel of it. In the media I’d only ever seen guys with smooth chests and tried to imagine how they would feel. Adrian was all man, strong and with body hair. Not that he was overly hairy… he wasn’t. My fingers glided lower, over the ridges of his stomach, following the trail of hair until I bumped against his waistband.

Adrian gripped my hand. “Valentina.” It was low, dark and almost pained. He pulled back, dipped his head at the same time as I tipped mine up. He scanned my face.

What had I done wrong? Didn’t he like to be touched like that?

I felt the groan more than I heard it. It was on the verge of a tortured laugh. I blinked, trying to figure out my husband. He lifted my hand and firmly pressed it, palm flat, against his sternum. “It stays there.”

He lowered his head back to the pillow then extinguished the lights.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

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Chapter 20

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“I do” He said after a pause. “But not like this. On your side of the bed nor in my arms.

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