Vito's POV
The sight of her kneeling before me, bathed in candlelight and wearing that exquisite black lace corset, was enough to drive any rational thought from my mind. Isabella. My wife. On her knees, looking up at me with those dark eyes that held equal parts desire and uncertainty.
Beautiful. So f*****g beautiful it hurt to look at her.
Her hands trembled against my belt, and I could see the nervous flutter of her pulse at her throat. This was new territory for her—I could tell from the way she hesitated, the way she looked to me for guidance. The thought that I would be the one to teach her, to show her how to please me, sent a surge of possessive satisfaction through my veins.
"Easy," I murmured, my voice rough with restraint. My fingers threaded through her silky hair, gentle b
