I drive into her, and it’s like my world explodes with color and music I’d never seen or heard before. My heart is whole again. My soul is soaring.
“I love you, I love you,” I chant like a mantra.
“Luca.” She says my name with love and reverence.
I capture her mouth again, pouring seven years of longing into the kiss. And that longing morphs into the deepest love.
“Fuck… I’m coming.” I hate that I couldn’t last longer, but even as the words escape my mouth, Elena cries out, her pussy tightening around me until stars blast behind my eyes.
We continue to move together as one until our orgasms subside. I kiss her again.
Speak words of love again.
She kisses me back.
Tells me she loves me back. For the first time since returning home, I feel like I’ve finally recaptured all that I lost.
Even more incredible is that I’ve gained oh, so much more.
ELENA
Christmas Eve, and I'm surrounded by mountains of wrapping paper, scissors, and curling ribbon in Luca's living room.
The triplets are finally asleep upstairs, although we’ve locked the double doors into the living room in case one, mostly like Rocco, decides to see Santa come down the chimney.
"You're terrible at this." I laugh, watching Luca struggle with wrapping a dollhouse for Adalina that has more odd angles than straight edges.
"I'm a Don, not an elf," he mutters, tape stuck to his fingers as he attempts to salvage the crumpled wrapping paper.
I reach over, gently taking the mangled package from his hands. "Here, let me show you."
Our fingers brush, and even after these weeks of reconciliation, that familiar electricity still runs between us. His eyes meet mine, and the wrapping is momentarily forgotten.
"I never thought I'd have this." His fingers brush over my cheek. "A real Christmas. With you. With our kids."
“But here we are.” I lean into his touch.
“Here we are.” He laughs. “And what an adventure it is. I can’t believe Rocco wanted to leave cannoli for Santa instead of cookies.”
“I wonder how many households are serving cannoli to Santa,” I say.
“Speaking of which, we should get this finished.” Luca starts on the package again.
We work in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the soft crinkle of paper and the occasional snap of scissors.
Outside, snow has started to fall, adding another layer of magic to the night. The kids will be thrilled to have a white Christmas.
We finally finish and study our handiwork. “There’s a lot of stuff,” I say, thinking Luca might have gone overboard.
“There’s something in there for you,” he says.
“I already got my Christmas present.” I lean against him.
“Me too.”
I press my lips to his. "Merry Christmas, Luca."
He surprises me by digging under the tree. Finally, he comes out from underneath the branches and boxes.
