Every once in a while, my concerned gaze would pull towards Alessio. It bothered me slightly that he was so bitter over his father's marriage to Katherine. I did not doubt that part of his anger was her age, but I could also sense a coldness in my husband’s attitude towards his father.
My father, for all his faults, doted on me in his own way, and we got along well enough. I could have a long debate with him about the current state of our government or on a book we had both read. We were comfortable and warm when in each other's presence, and I knew he loved me.
With Alessio, he'd worked with his father nearly every day from a young age. Even now, his father was supposed to be semi-retired, yet he still muddled in his current business affairs. Theyshould be close. Yet when I thought back on their relationship, it suddenly occurred to me that I'd never seen Alessio converse with his dad about anything other than business. There were no jokes or hugs. No simple words of affection. It wasn't a male thing, either, as I'd seen how warm and comfortable Alessio was with the other men in his family.
It was two in the morning when Alessio steered me towards our wing, bidding everyone a goodnight. The party would still carry on until the wee hours of dawn, and usually Alessio would be right there alongside them. For my husband to retire early from his family's Christmas party was completely out of character for him, but he seemed eager to leave them be. When we made it to the privacy of our rooms, with the muted sounds of the party still following us, Alessio made swift work of my dress and bra. His eager hands covered my bare breasts, kneading them in that roughened, desperate way that I loved.
"If we weren't with family, I would've crowded you into a corner and had my wicked way with you."
I whimpered, turning my head and meeting his mouth in a heated kiss. He tasted like whisky and sin, and everything I shouldn't want.
His hands massaged my globes, his fingers pinching at the hardened tips before he rubbed them gently. I was lost in the feel of him, his aura of masculine pleasure burned me from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes—toes, that were curling in wanton need as his mouth touched my sensitive breasts.
Without warning, he lifted me into his arms and dumped me roughly onto the bed. I didn't mind. As gentle as he was as a lover, he also had a side to him that was dark and desperate, where marks were left and cheeks were slapped a rosy red. This was my favourite Alessio. Wild and uninhibited. His tightly wound propriety flew out the window and was replaced by a crude and rough seducer. And I bloody loved it. Because inthat moment, when his mask slipped and his eyes shone with fervour, it also exposed the man I suspected was the real Alessio.
My fingers dug into his scalp as his mouth sought out the wetness between my thighs. His fingers slid inside me, helped along by my slick heat. He pumped his digits as his tongue danced around my clit.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," I moaned.
"That's it, come on my tongue. Let me taste you," he urged.
I came hard and loud, but before I could recover, Alessio had me flipped and on my hands and knees. I buried my face in the mattress, tilting my hips up to give me greater access.
"Alessio!" I gasped when I felt his thumb circle that other hole. He gathered more wetness from my pussy before smearing it around my tight pucker.
I breathed deeply as I felt his stiff cock sink into my eager pussy, at the same time, his thumb breached my back entrance.
"You're always so responsive when I play with this little arse." He groaned as his hips pumped me slowly.
I turned my head, breathing deeply as he thrust hard inside me.
"Yesss, Alessio. More," I urged.
And then he was fucking me. Hard and fast. His strokes were violent, and the air around us seeped of heady sex and sweat. Moans and harsh words of encouragement echoed around as he took me higher and higher in a swirl of ecstasy.
My fingers grasped the sheet as I lurched forward in sudden jerks; his movements growing more frantic. One hand slapped a jiggling cheek as his thumb continued to rub me.
Finally, my back arched and my eyes rolled back as I careened off the edge and fell headfirst into a chasm of bliss. Alessio's answering shout of satisfaction was harsh against my ear before he collapsed on top of me.
A long time later, after he had cleaned us both and called a maid to change the soaked sheets—much to my embarrassment—I lay wide awake in the circle of his arms. A rarity for us. Alessio was not a cuddler. After we had sex, he would press a kiss to my head before turning away to sleep. It was…nice. More than nice, actually. I felt a deep connection to him despite the rough sex we just had. There was something so endearing about the contrast of harsh to gentle. It was just another layer on top of the many reasons I had fallen for this complicated man.
"Did I succeed?" Alessio's low voice suddenly asked.
I frowned, my fingers stopping their slow circle around his forearm. "In what?"
"Making you happy again.”
My breath sucked in, and I glanced up at him. His eyes held a veiled insecurity as they met mine.
"What are you talking about?"
His breath fanned my cheek, and he glanced away, a tic pulsing in his jaw.
"The last time you were happy—trulyhappy—was when I had brought you here for the first time. We did not arrive on the best of terms, but slowly you started to open up to me. By the time we made love for the first time, I could feel your happiness. It was tangible and real."
"Because I was," I slowly confirmed before thinking. "Iwashappy. Perhaps a tad naive at the time though."
I licked my lips before I mentioned the one thing I'd guarded deep in my heart.
