My eyes connected with his, but when I began to lower on top of him, my eyes instinctually closed, and inch by delicious inch, I took all of him inside of me. I hissed out a breath when we were fully connected, and I could feel him so deep inside of me, it took my body a moment to adjust to the size and width of him.
I’d never felt something so invasive, but so welcome at the same time.
He almost stretched me beyond my means, butalmostwas the key word. We fit perfectly together. He reminded me of this, and his words relaxed me, made me crave to the point of starved,and without my mind telling my body, I began to move by his command.
When he said he would put me to sleep, he meant it.
Even though I was the one on top, he was going to work my body to heights that rivaled climbing the mountains in the distance. Both of our bodies were slick with sweat, from the exertion, from the humidity in the room, from the sheer emotional connection between us. It was almost overwhelming. It consumed my body and his.
His massive hands grabbed my ass cheeks, and his fingertips dimpled my skin from the pressure. “That is it.” He hissed out a breath. “You will take all of me deep inside,mywife. So deep, you will not even remember your name.”
“I don’t,” I barely got out. “I don’t even remember…mmmmm.”
He lifted me up and set me back down on top of him, and I cried out. My body began to move faster, harder, to the point that my thighs trembled from the strain in my muscles. It felt like my heart was about to explode out of my chest, and I was barely getting any air into of my lungs.
The pressure was building, building, building, until it overtook my entire body, and I couldn’t control the wild pulse inside of me.
Rocco slapped me on the ass right as my orgasm began to tear through me, and when he did, it felt like I orgasmed twice at once. I did again when I flopped forward to rest my head on his chest. He was still inside of me, as hard as he was in the beginning, and after a moment, he began to move inside of me again. I moaned, long and low, kissing his chest, salt and something entirely his on my tongue, and he flipped me over, positioning us just right.
My leg automatically lifted to give him room, and as he started to move harder, faster, I cried out again, cried out soloud, it echoed inside of the grotto-like room. My husband and I both sounded like satisfied animals who’d just had their first taste of food right before the hunger devoured them when we came to each other in an explosion that seemed to carry all our pieces and tangle them up.
I was too sexually drugged to even open my eyes.
Rocco covered me with his shirt, or whatever it was. All I knew was that it smelled of him and was soft and warm.
Hours could’ve passed, but when I opened my eyes, my husband was swimming underneath the opening that led outside, and it was still dark. If anything, the world beyond seemed more solid somehow—even darker. As if the night had frozen us in this small space of time, but we were protected from the freeze by the warmth of our love. That was how connected we were. Our love felt like a physical presence around me.
The outside pool was warmed, but not like the inside pool. Steam drifted to the sky in purling clouds in contrast to the heat and freezing cold. This was where my husband was headed. Rocco enjoyed doing contrast therapy, where he would alternate between hot and cold temperatures. I tried it a few times, and it wasn’t all that bad, but I preferred warm water. I understood taking a plunge in freezing temperatures had health benefits, but…when I entered the water, I wanted to relax, not seize up.
It barely bothered Rocco, though, and that was saying something. I wasn’t even allowed to go to bed with my hair wet as a kid, as an adult even, because Nonna thought I’d catch my death, as she used to say. Rocco was purposely putting himself in the water, in the freezing cold, outside.
I sat up some, the shirt he’d draped over me falling some, narrowing my eyes. My body was highlighted by the tender pool lights, almost as if we were in a grotto. I went to reach for my hair but forgot a second too late that it had all been mostly chopped off. It haloed my head in big waves. I rubbed my arms,my skin feeling softer from the salt in the pool and the humid atmosphere.
The pool light lit my husband up, his back to me. He was so muscular, the lights touched every carved valley and peak from head all the way down to his waist. I could see his strong ass cheeks and his long, strong legs underneath the water. His arms were stretched, his palms hovering over the surface after he ran a hand through his hair and slicked it back.
That was when I noticed the hypnotic beat in the background. The artist was a man singing about not even the grave being able to keep him from getting to his great love. How his great love wasn’t bothered by what his hands or his body had done before her.
Rocco’s face turned to the sky as snow twirled in the breeze. Smoke purled from his body, and even the thought of the cold air touching me that long made me rub my arms in sympathy, but my husband’s temperature ran scalding hot. Sometimes I’d have to take the covers off at night because he was hot enough to keep me warm.
Maybe the smoke was from his body alone.
I wasn’t sure.
What did I know for sure?
In that moment, he was a creature I had been so close to believing didn’t exist any longer—a man who fought for his woman, respected her, cherished her, loved her—from his first breath until his last.
My husband was right.
The time we spent apart, we spent loving each other, even if we didn’t know the other existed—somehow, we did, in a place deep inside of us that was kept secret even to us. We fell in love with the idea of each other. He was part of a protected species that needed to live on forever.
Maybe the Fausti family wasn’t perfect, but I understood the history they were preserving and why.
My husband’s face was still lifted, and it was then I noticed his eyes were closed and his lips were moving. Maybe praying, maybe singing the song. Maybe a bit of both. I was saying a prayer, too, maybe echoing his.
As cold as the outside was, could be, all I could feel was warmth, but at the same time, I knew this moment would be preserved in a place that couldn’t be touched. It was all mine and mine alone, the same as the man/beast standing in the chilling cold, who was making all my dreams come true by just breathing.
Chapter 34
