Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I’m lost to the weight of his body atop mine, the friction he builds between us, the pulsing need that’s returned with a vengeance. I’m vaguely aware of the shadow of pain quickly fading with each perfect, blissful thrust.
“How are you doing?” he whispers.
I thread my fingers through his hair, suddenly craving the intimacy. Grateful that he cares.
“Ready to come again,” I whisper. “Fuck me, Salvatore.”
He smiles, holds me, and thrusts again. The first spasm of orgasm ignites me, and I begin to moan again. He lifts again, the next thrust softer but more intense. A third thrust, and I begin to climax, moaning and welcoming even the pain-laced feel of his cock. He gathers my wrists again, his lips brush my cheek, then his groan overtakes me when I feel the hot pulse of his release inside me. I’m on the cusp of screaming, my wrists pushed against the weight of his restraint, my body awash with pure, perfect, agonizing euphoria.
His hips jerk and I welcome the feel of him, the joining of the two of us in this shared ecstasy. I never knew it would be like this. How could I?
“Fuck me,” he groans as his thrusts begin to slow. “Goddamn it, you’re perfect.”
His head drops to the pillow beside me. Our pants fill the otherwise silent room. He gently releases my wrists. My arms slide around him. We hold each other. This may be the only tender part of our marriage. Only time will tell. But if it is, I’ll take it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Salvatore
If I’d known sex with Marialena Rossi would be that fucking rewarding, I’d have gotten on a plane and found a way to make her mine years ago. I’d have fucking seduced her if that’s what it took. Bribed Romeo with whatever I had in my possession, or better yet, stolen her and whisked her away where no one would ever find her.
I can’t expect she’ll ever love me, but I could’ve sought the comfort of her bed long before now.
Curled up next to me, her hair fans around her face almost like a halo, but I’m no fool. Marialena’s no angel.
If anything, she’s a little hellion, but she’s my hellion. All mine.
“Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll order us some food.” I don’t want her to be alarmed that our sheets need changing. In some cultures and traditions I’d have had to show the telltale signs of her lost virginity with our sheets, but there’s no one to prove anything to. I was the one that arranged this marriage.
“Alright,” she says on a yawn. “Can you get something chocolate? I feel like good sex should be capped off with something chocolate.”
“Of course.” I give her a teasing smack to the ass that she sashays right at me as she heads to the bathroom.
Good sex.
I’ve never been so honored someone’s called sex with me good.
I’ve honestly never really cared. I’ve only had sex because I wanted to, and I knew women would line up to be with me because of my money and status. They didn’t care about who I was. Half of them were afraid of who I was. They wanted me for what I represented, no more, no less.
I shouldn’t care that she thinks sex with me is good. It’s her duty to me.
I can’t allow myself to get attached to her, to allow any feelings to surface at all. I know why I married her. Marrying her is only a stepping stone at the epicenter of my life’s purpose. We can’t be truly joined as a couple that actually has feelings for each other, and if I forget that for one minute, I’m fucked.
One day, she might know who I truly am. And if and when she does, she’ll despise me. Better not to even go there from the beginning.
I hear the rhythmic beating of the shower water in the bathroom, and a few seconds later something I never expected to hear—she’s singing. Not softly humming a little tune but belting out a song I don’t know. I feel the corners of my lips turn upward, and it feels so foreign for a few seconds, I’m not sure why.
Then I realize… I’m smiling.
I never smile, not this kind of smile anyway, the kind that melts away sadness and brings a flood of warmth to your chest.
She sings in the shower.
I guess some people might find that annoying. I find it adorable.
I never expected she’d be like this, beautiful and responsive, softhearted and witty. I told myself this was a marriage of convenience, arranged with a distinct purpose. I even told myself that lowering myself to the point of actually having feelings for the woman would be a huge mistake, but a man would have to be inhuman not to feel something for her.