Mrs. Big
Wakingup in Portofino felt like waking up on a cloud, just like it had on the plane. But…even better. The room was warm but filled with a sea breeze that made the sheets and air feel softer and cooler. Even though my mind was alert, I refused to open my eyes. I just wanted a minute to take in where I was and relive in my memories the day before.
After we’d taken a quick tour of the hotel—a place I could see myself living in forever—Big had taken me to our room and wore me out. Before I could succumb to the plush-looking bed facing the picture window, with views of the sea that were almost unreal, he’d pulled out my luggage and handed me a bathing suit. We’d spent the entire day at the beach and had an amazing dinner before I passed out. Big said it was easier to overcome jetlag by not giving in to it.
Even in Vegas, my schedule was screwed up, though. I’d worked nights for years, and after my shift was over, I’d rush home to bring my brothers to school, sleep while they were gone, then wake up not long before I had to pick them up. Phoenix never felt comfortable riding the bus. He had a thing about being left behind, and the bus made him anxious. Angelo went along with me picking him up because of Phoenix.
It was hard to undo years of a rigorous schedule that sometimes left me not feeling the best. Working nights went against the bodies’ natural rhythm—there’s a reason night work pays more—and I hadn’t felt just how much my body had suffered until Big forced me to take a break.
We were both forcing each other to let go of controlling factors in our lives in different ways, and because of it, we were holding tighter to each other.
Big’s work felt like it was twenty-four/seven. Casinos never sleep, and it seemed like neither did he.Whenhe slept, it was in what I considered naps. Kitty had said that was why we were so good for each other. I could relax in my downtime—when I had it—and I was teaching Big how to do the same. He was helping me with the sleep thing, and…there we were.
A slow smile came to my face when I felt the fire of the sun—his eyes—on me. I opened my eyes in a rush, and I knew he closed his in the same way. I laughed, and a grin came to his face. He was messing around with me.
“How was your workout?” I asked, stretching my arms.
He fake yawned. “Work. Out? Whoworks outin Italy?”
“Tullio Bigatti.” I touched his warm chest. “The man who has an unnatural amount of energy.”
“Like a cyborg?”
“Takes one to know one.”
We grinned at the same time, until we were just staring at each other.
“It’s funny, though,” I whispered. “Together, we’re not like we are with the rest of the world. We’re human when we’re like this.”
His eyes lowered, and I knew that look. It was the culmination of all the passionate looks he gave me from across numerous rooms, or when he held me in his arms and danced with me outside of fancy Portofino hotels, and when we were alone, he consumed me with it. I kept my eyes on his, lifting my hand to fix the impeccable side-part of his inky black hair, but his hand locked around my wrist like a cuff. He ran his other hand down my free arm in a soft sweep until he reached my hand. He intertwined our fingers and then brought my hand to the side of my face, pressing it into the pillow.
Our eyes held until he kissed me.
His lips were firm, his tongue languid, and his skin as hot as the sun sneaking in through the sheer white curtains. The breeze danced off the Ligurian Sea, fluttering them like gossamer wings.
“What did I tell you, Aphrodite?” he breathed out, his mouth slowly moving down my face, my neck, as he placed a mixture of soft and rough kisses against my skin. “I’m a man of my word. I’m going to romance you.” He nipped at my pulse and my heart stuttered, tripping but recovering in its race.
I forgot to breathe as his tongue started to lick my breasts, around and around, so close to my nipple but not close enough. I pushed against his mouth and his eyes rose, meeting mine. He grinned a little before his mouth closed over the sensitive peak, sucking. It felt like every ache inside of me rushed up before it went in the opposite direction, crashing into my lower stomach, making me gasp and then moan.
“That’s what I love to fucking hear.” His warm breath fanned over me, before he licked the other side and then sucked. “My wife,mywife, letting go so only the two of us exist. You melt into me. I fucking melt into you.” He placed a kiss in the center of my chest, his tongue flicking out to sample my skin. “You taste so good. Salty, and so fucking sweet.” His mouth came to up ravage mine, and he groaned into it, making me whimper.
Yeah, I whimpered, and he ate it up.
His dick was rock hard before, and I could feel it harden even more when I made the noise. It slid against my leg as he made his way toward the end of the bed. I was ready for him. He positioned himself between my legs and entered me in a slow push.
We both groaned.
He kept the rhythm slow, but he filled me up, stretched me out so good, it felt a little rougher. The perfect combination between all-consuming ache and all-consuming pleasure.
I came around him on a soft cry, and he picked up his pace, holding eye contact, until he spilled himself inside of me with a deep, uncontrolled groan.
When I could open my eyes, I blinked at him. He was staring at me. He gently moved a piece of hair from my face, his touch like a whisper against my skin. Big and I hadn’t been married that long, even if it felt like we’d been together forever, and we were in an era of our relationship that had a name.
Discovery.
We were still discovering each other, and it was as intense as a newly bloomed cactus would absorb and process its first touch of rain.
We were both starved for whatever it was we both had needed—for such a long time. And like a cactus, we were going to save the nourishment for…forever. I knew without a doubt I was.
