“I have no words.” He mimicked the beat of his heart. Fast. Then he hit his chest. “I am at war within myself, my wife. I do not know whether to leave the dress on or take it off. You have walked out of my heart, queen of it, and are sitting before me as a vision come to life. The dilemma of a blessed man, ah?”
I smiled at him, and even though his was slow to come, come it did.
It was like watching the sun rise over exotic waters after the darkest night known to man.
That fast mimic of his heart suddenly reflected mine.
Using the matching wooden step stool to climb down, the stone floor cold underneath the pads of my feet when I reached it, I went to him. My eyes went to his feet. Without a word, he removed his shoes, setting them to the sides with his socks. I ran my hand over his shoulders, under the lapels of his tuxedo, feeling his hard muscles tense underneath my soft touch. I removed his jacket, setting it down on a chair in the corner. I unbuttoned his white shirt and removed it from his shoulders, the Fausti tattoo on his forearm coming to life in the glow of the firelight on his skin. It danced across him, almost thinning his layers and bringing all of him to the surface.
His eyes.
Those eyes.
They hypnotized me with their color, especially when the firelight hit them and made me think of the sun over the greenest parts of the Mediterranean Sea.
What was I doing again?
Oh. Right. Undressing him.
When I went for his pants, though, he stopped me by grabbing my wrist. His eyes stilled on me when my hand stilled on him.
A whimper left my mouth at the intensity.
The fire wasn’t making me sweat.
The look in this man’s eyes was.
He pulled me to him so fast, I lost my footing, but he was directing my steps. I landed against him, and he seemed to pull me even closer, his face turned down to mine and mine turned up to his. It was almost like he was preparing me for a dip kiss.
He was strong and confident.
I trusted him and relaxed into the moment.
We kept eye contact until he kissed me.
Kissed me so long, and so deep, I had no clue we’d made it back to the bed until he turned me around and started to release me from the gown.
“Be careful with it,” I whispered, my voice as dazed as the rest of me. “I…love this gown. I want to preserve it.” The vows. The touches. The happiness. All soaked into its fibers.
He made an animalistic noise that was the total opposite of gentle, but when I stepped out of it, he took the time to hang it up, running his hand down it reverently. Even though it was just fabric, it still bore witness to our vows. It was a central part of the first day of the rest of our lives as husband and wife.
That was one of the things I’d give the Faustis: they had brought out in me a romantic side that had always existed, but I had no idea it was there until Rocco had coaxed it out of me. I was the soft to his sharp, and we balanced each other out spectacularly, like two colors enchanting the shade of the other.
Underneath my gown, I’d worn white silk that wouldn’t show through my dress, and turning to him, I took a deep breath. He seemed to breathe it out. Then he picked me up, setting me down on the bed again, but this time, he situated himself next to me. He gazed into my eyes, using the rose to caress over my skin. My bodyinstantly responded, my back arching, my breasts straining against the cool silk.
“I will explore every inch of your skin, my wife,” he whispered. “I will learn every line as if it is my own. I will study it and learn it so well that, when it changes, my body will change with it, keeping up with time. Because you are completely mine, Aria Amora Bella Fausti.”
He kissed me until I couldn’t breathe.
His lips ventured down to my neck, where he whispered a midnight vow over my pulse. “With my body, I honor you and you alone, my wife.”
Without a word, I undid his pants, and this time, he allowed me to. My eyes couldn’t take him in fast enough. The firelight should have softened his sharp edges, but it only seemed to play in his eyes and reflect his temperature. All his strong lines, every ripped muscle and hard bone, couldn’t even be softened by the warm glow of the room.
When my soft and cool hand touched him, though, a ripple went through him.
His hot hand tightened around the silk before he ripped it from my body, flinging it toward the fire. In awhoosh, the silk was nothing but a moth turning to ash for the love of the flame.
We were completely naked, and my body seemed to cry out at the feel of his next to mine.
