I laughed even harder at how insane it seemed. It was our first fight as a married couple, but we’d both set down boundaries, and I loved the way we were headed.
I loved this thing of ours.
Saverio’s laughter seemed to catch on the wind, and my arms puckered from the sound of it. The deepness of it. How it seemed to come straight from his heart and echo from his chest. Making these men laugh was like pulling a buried piece of who they were from deep within their chests.
Like a switch that had been turned low, my entire mood changed.
The car went quiet. I slid down the seat some. I hadn’t realized I’d used it to brace myself against the wind while my arms were in the air. Slowly, one by one, I started undoing the buttons of the dress.
Saverio’s eyes glistened with lights from the town. But there was a deeper gleam in them that felt hotter thanmezzogiorno.
If I was a candle, I’d be dripping wax in his hands.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter when I lifted some, my hands sliding underneath the dress, unhooking my bra. I maneuvered the straps so I could slip it off. I lifted it in the air, like a lacey purple flag, and let it dangle there until the wind took it.
Saverio’s arm lifted, as fast as a snapping wolf, and snatched it. He brought it to his nose, inhaling, before he stuck it in his back pocket.
I grinned a little. I opened the dress up even further, the wind against my breasts like heaven. I was burning up. From the residual sun of the day and from him.
His eyes were on the road, but I knew he knew what I was doing. I traced an “S” over my heart, wishing the entire world could see it like a flesh-colored brand. Then I circled each breast to seal the vow.
My hand slid from my chest to his thigh, then over his dick. The jeans bulged, straining against the size and hardness of him. When I unzipped his pants, I could almost hear the relief from the fabric.
Or maybe that was me. Maybe I made a breathy “ahh” noise.
“Mia,” he said, his voice husky. He said it with an Italian accent, in a way that meant—mine.
“I need to taste you,” I whispered. Then, leaning down, I took him in my mouth. He hissed out a breath and then cursed.
He tasted like the day. Sweat. Sun. The beach. And something undeniably his—male.
No drink could ever compare to this.
He made me higher than the sun and the moon. Yet my gravity was his. He centered me, kept me grounded.
Not then.
I wanted his buzz more than I wanted my next breath. I was free from all chains.
He’d done that.
He’d freed me from my own prison.
Not being with him…
He groaned, fisting his hand in my hair.
I had no clue we’d stopped and pulled over until he lifted me up by the arms. He hit a lever below the seat, and the entire thing slid back. There was just enough room for me to climb on top of him.
He groaned and I whimpered when I took him inside, only the tip. His hands came to my hips, burning me. His mouth came to my nipple, sucking so hard that I let out a long, low moan. It spurred me to take him deeper, and when I was fully seated at his throne, like the queen he made me, I started to move.
“Mia,” he breathed out. “You’re going to kill me, but it’ll be the sweetest fucking death.”
My eyes found his in between the lights of the village below and the darkness that surrounded us. They were hypnotic, a brown that was more gold, and when they ensnared my green ones, I couldn’t look away. It was the most exotic thing I’d ever felt.
The connection. The…intensity.
His hand slid over the side of my face, his fingers disappearing into my hair. I reached up a hand and took his, putting his finger in my mouth, sucking.
