He made an animalistic sound deep in his throat. It was feral. Primal. All about us. About this.
This.
This wasn’t fucking. This was making love.
We both knew the difference, and he always gave me what I craved. It brought me back to our wedding night, when he’d worshipped my body like it was a new discovery. He made me feel like he’d never seen a woman before, and every ounce of his desire was mine. Every touch, every path his tongue had taken, was the first.
“You,” he barely got out. He hissed out another breath when I swirled my hips, lifted, then came slowly back down. “Solo tu.”
My head tilted back, and my eyes closed for a second. Overwhelmed. It seemed like I’d been apart from him for years.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
My eyes slowly opened. Everything was slow. Languid and warm. And wet. The moisture between our bodies. The kisses. The desire.
“Solo tu,”I whispered. “Solo tu, marito.”
He bucked up, sending a rush of pleasure throughout my body. It started in my uterus and slowly burned itself into my bloodstream. It made my face feel hot. Sweat slid between my breasts. He leaned forward, licking it up.
“This,” I barely got out. “This.Mmm.”
His hand grasped my face. “Eyes, Mia,” he said.
I opened my eyes again.
It was hard to keep them open. I felt like a spark that had given into the gasoline and lighter. His hand brought my face forward, and the kiss seared me even deeper. It made me feel almost combustible.
That was exactly what I did.
I combusted. So did he.
He came in me with a growl as my entire body seemed to convulse. I had a hard time catching my breath. My heart felt like it might explode. My chest burned.
My forehead rested against his, both of us covered in sweat, our breaths tangling in the hot night air. When my eyes opened, he was staring at me. His hands cradled my face, and he kissed me all over it.
“Too much fucking distance, Mia,” he said.
“It won’t happen again,” I whispered.
“No,” he said, his thumbs stroking my lips. “I won’t allow it.”
“Me either.”
“Tell me you love me,” he said.
I tried to back up a little, but he wouldn’t let me. He didn’t want me to see him. This vulnerable spot he had in his life.
But me not seeing it meant him not seeingme.
I saw it. I saw him. My everything. My sun and my moon. My fire and my rain. The storm that wrecked me. My shore when I was lost at sea. My beautiful metaphors and my jumbled ones, because it was hard to feel only one thing with him. Or compare us to one thing. How do you sayI love youin only one language? In one way? It felt impossible to me because I loved himthatmuch.
“I can’t,” I said.
Instead of his eyes flying up to meet mine in a crash, they lowered. It broke my heart. That he could even consider that my love for him could be put into three simple words…
Two cool tear drops fell from my eyes. “Saverio,” I whispered, bending lower to meet his downcast eyes. His lashes were black and long and fanned against his skin. “I love you—but that’s not enough. Sometimes I don’t even want to say the words because they feel like a lie.” I paused for a second because I wanted to get this right. “I love you so much that the words aren’t enough. Not enough to even explain what this is inside of me—this thing that belongs to you only.”
His eyes met mine. The intensity in them almost bowled me over. I breathed out to steady myself and he seemed to breath in. He breathed out and I closed my eyes, breathing him in. We were in sync. Always in sync.
