She pushed herself against my fingers, whimpering, wanting more. When I slid my hand between her legs, she went off, rubbing herself against me, panting and moaning.
“Fuck.” I loved it when she went wild for my touch. My cock was so hard, it was about to rip through my sweatpants. I tugged them down with one hand, kicked them off, and stroked my cock while I watched her gyrate against my other hand, hertettebouncing to the rhythm.
Her eyes, more cat-like when they were cracked open, watched me stroke myself. She was getting louder, wilder, wetter. She licked her lips, and I picked up the pace, groaning at how fucking good this felt. I’d never felt this wild either. Like we might start clawing at each other just to get to our hearts and offer them up.
“Mmmmm!” Her entire body stiffened, then it started to move faster, jerking, and then finally letting go with a moan that echoed inside of her chest.
It didn’t take her long to recover. Her eyes were still lowered, her cheeks flushed, her skin sweaty, and she grabbed for me, wanting me in the bed. I took her with me, and we startedkissing, our tongues buried deep, swirling like two storms, rolling around the bed like it was a boat at stormy seas.
She took my face in her hands. “If this is all there ever was—I could survive on this. Onlythis.” She caressed over my forehead, down my cheeks, back up over my eyes and nose, down to my throat, to my heart, her palm placed over it for a second, then down to my cock. She took it in her hand and started to stroke it, just like I’d been doing. I made a wild noise, and so did she.
I kissed her face, her lips, and licked my way down to her breasts.“Fuck.” I breathed cool air against her nipple. “Perfect. So perfect. Beautiful.” She jerked against me when my mouth closed over the stiff peak while my fingers started to tease the other one.
She tried to open her legs, get me between them, but she couldn’t move me. I was going to send her back to the stars, where she belonged, for me to watch her burn in a cold fire that could only touch me. My hand still teased her nipple, while my mouth moved down, down, down, leaving kiss marks all the way past her stomach. When I was situated between her thighs, my face close to all her secrets, I used my tongue to flick her most sensitive spot.
She reached over her head and grabbed a pillow, fisting it, pushing herself against my mouth. I could feel her sweet desire on my chin, all over my cheeks, and I started eating like a poor man who suddenly found himself at a queen’s table.
The noises she made were feral, and I couldn’t even put into words what they sounded like, but in our own language, she told me she was being satisfied. Her control was mine; she’d lost it to me. And I was using my tongue, my finger, to work her beautiful body higher and higher. I could feel the temperature of her skin, that cold fire infusing every inch of her flesh.
She said something garbled and then came with a cry that was so satisfying to my cock, I had to be inside of her or I mightdie. I entered her in a stroke so hard, she cried out, “More. Please.More.”
Every stroke was a test of my stamina. She was so fucking wet. So warm. And the deeper I pushed into her, the more she opened to me, but the resistance felt so fucking good, I was lost. So fucking lost inside of her. Her doctor had given her birth control pills, and she was the first woman I’d felt the inside of without protection.
She was milking me, bringing all the blood to the head of my cock. I’d never felt so swollen before, my tip so fucking sensitive. It was after the high, the pleasure only this woman could give me. I was out to make a home for myself inside of her—so deep inside of her, no one could ever reside there but me.
“My Stella,” I groaned.
“So good,” she breathed out. “So, so, good. Don’t stop. Please.” I could feel her thighs trembling against me.
When we started to kiss, we both let go, jerking against each other, making noises that our bodies couldn’t hold back. I watched as she took control of her breathing. She was coated in sweat, flushed, her cool, sweet breath washing over my overheated skin.
Her eyes opened, and there she was.
My star. Burning in the vast dark sky just for me.
I ran a tender hand down her face.“Ti amo, Stella.”
Her eyes searched mine, then filled with tears. “I love you, too, Matteo,” she whispered. “So much. I didn’t know a heart could hold this much love.”
I kissed her tears, and then vowed to dry them, as my mouth claimed hers again.
Even if I just closed my eyes, resting them, it felt like sleep for me. A way for my entire being to recharge to face the days and nights being a Fausti could bring. With Stella sleeping next to me, my eyes were closed, but I was far from resting. Morning wasn’t too far off, two hours, and there was nothing restful about what I was doing.
I ached to be inside of her again.
She’d just fallen asleep not long ago, the entire night ours to do what we wanted inside of it, in our own space, in our own home. And she needed to sleep. She needed rest. It had been a long day. From learning how to drive, to becoming a homeowner, to a rush of people trying to help with the new furnishings that we needed, like mattresses, to filling our cabinets, to the men on guard outside.
One day, I was going to rule this entirefamiglia. And this would be our life. Me, ready to rule at a moment’s notice. Her, doing whatever she wanted, as far as a career that would bring her happiness, and creating a family for us. She’d told me she wanted that. A family with me.
The greatest honor of my life.
Then the soldiers that would always set their boots down on our property. Being near her during the times that I couldn’t be.
That thought was keeping me up too.
That I wouldn’t always be the man around to protect her. That I had to trust someone else enough to keep her safe. Saverio would be next to me, and even though he put things in place to be more proactive with her safety, like the watch and the monitor in her engagement ring, there was always room forerror. Armando was as good as his old man, but still, mamma found herself in the hands of our enemies.
I’d always been the most serious son of Brando and Scarlett Fausti. I was the oldest son, which meant I bore the brunt of most of the responsibilities. I was born to lead this family. But if something ever happened to the woman next to me—I had to cut that thought off at the root. The heart. Carve it out and offer it up. Because if I thought about it, the heart inside of my chest would deflate and turn into…ash.
