However, there was nothing plain about my husband.
His body was a testament to the hard labor he preferred. Every muscle was defined. Even his veins bulged against taut, tan skin. When I’d first met him in winter, he was more olive, but after the sun had kissed his skin, he was much darker. The darkness of his skin teased out the light of his peridoteyes, cyan around the edges.
His soft, silky black hair was as inky as night. It was cut in the same style as his father’s. Trim around the edges. Longer on top. When he would remove his hat, it would go wild before his hand tamed it down.
It seemed to say a lot about who Mariano Leone Fausti was.
He was wild on the inside, but he controlled when and where he set it loose.
My wish was that he set it free on me.
I would be there to fix his hair once we were done.
A trembling breath left my mouth.
The realization hit me—hard enough to steal my breath again.
This wild animal of a man wasmine.
“Allmine,” I whispered, making a circle around him, coming to stand in front of him again.
It took a second for his eyes to open. His eyebrows were thick, but he had two, not connecting, and his eyelashes were long and raven. Depending on how he was feeling, his eyebrows could give him such a fierce look. His lashes only added to the passion when he was looking at me as he was at that moment.
Eyelids lowered almost to closed. As if he was high off the thought of devouring me.
Yet…his stare was focused, so intense, it made me breathless.
Breathless, but not afraid.
I was willing to sacrifice myself to him. If he needed my blood, it was his.
Whatever existed inside of me was his, as whatever existed inside of him was mine.
I stuck my chin up as my trembling hands, palms forward, came to rest against his hard chest, just to feel the life beneath his surface race to me. His skin was hot, hot enough to make sweat run frommyneck, along my back, and disappear into the arch of it.
“Forever and always, Mariano Fausti,” I whispered.
“You and me,” he said.
“You and me,” I repeated.
“Call me the name you gave me.” His eyes were turned down to mine, and all the passion and conviction inside of him seemed to be concentrated to that one area—unless my eyes turned down and found how hard he was for me. His cock was stabbing me in the stomach.
“Marito mio,” I said.
One, two, three breaths passed between us before he said,amen, and then his mouth crashed into mine.
My arms flew around his neck as we kissed, moved toward the bed, our bodies barely separating. My skin was against his, and it was making me higher than the kiss. When his skin was next to mine, it was an experience I was certain would not ever grow old. It was as if one of us was the kindling and the other was the heat, and together, we formed a fire.
A fire that could burn for hours and hours, days and days, months and months, years and years. At the end of it, we could walk away together, the fire turning the outside world to ash, but not us.
He lifted me up, set me on the bed, and took the position next to me. It seemed as if by magic, the time spent getting situated in the bed disappeared. We were kissing, our hands exploring, until I was begging for my husband to be inside of me, and hewas telling me he could not wait another moment to be inside of his wife. When he entered me, I cried out.
“Shh, my wife,” he whispered, stroking my head, kissing me. His tongue touched mine, continued to touch mine even when he moved his face away. “Deep. I need to be so fucking deep inside of you—so deep inside, I’m lost until I find my home.” He entered me fully, and he swallowed down the gasp from my mouth. “That’s it. Take all of me home. Keep me there.”
“Sì,” I barely got out. I was talking nonsense. Or was I? I was letting my heart do the talking. My body. He moved deep inside of me, stirring up feelings buried so deep, only he and I knew of them. “Sì. Sì. Sì.You are there.Per sempre.”
He positioned us so I could watch what he was doing to me. Sliding in and out. Out and in. His cock glistened with my want. My moans were not loud, but so uncontrolled. Nothing had ever turned me on so much. Watching what he was doing to me…I could not look away. My eyes were heavy, so heavy, and they were warring with my curiosity to watch. To see how far he could disappear inside of me before pulling out. His hips were working. He was sweating. My hips were working with his. I was sweating.
