Her body called to mine. Constantly called to mine. But where many women could only fulfill the desires of my flesh, this woman, my beloved wife, fulfilled all of me, not only for the moment, but forevermore.
A moment in her arms made all sacrifices worth it.
A lifetime with her would never be enough.
My hands balled and then flexed. The ring on my left hand, the white gold, was a bright metal in the room.
A symbol of her love and devotion to me.
My hands balled and flexed.
A symbol of her rooted place in my life.
If anything would have happened to her the previous night, my life would be over.
My heart and hers were interconnected. The veins and muscles of the beating organ one. It felt as if half of my body layin the bed, and the other half belonged to me. If I was far from her, I would be severed.
The shell I was before she entered my life was a version of hell I would reserve for enemies. Perhaps I would not even wish that on them. It was never Rosaria who put me there. It was the lack of my Aria Amora Bella Fausti that had me frozen in time in another period of my life. Until my wife finally appeared from the desires of my heart and brought me out of the frozen state I had been in.
I softly ran my hand along her naked back. It almost seemed as if she was floating in the silvery light, her warmth the reason we were surrounded by clouds, as she referred to them. This was why my hands, without my consent, reached out to touch her. To convince my mind that she did not have hidden wings, although the way her hair fell across the pillow crowned her with a hazelnut halo.
My eyes fell back to my hands. The ring on my left finger. A magnet that would always lead me home. I felt the tugging inside of my heart and soul. A path that would forever lead me back to the other half of me. The half that had always been missing from my life.
I turned my hand over, examining my palm. Lines created an A pattern.Aria Amora. My beautiful love song had always been tattooed on my flesh, even before I knew her.
In remembrance, blood stained my hands, the blood of my adversaries that would forever mark me. I set my hand on my wife, closing my eyes, breathing in her sweet scent. It was the scent of forgiveness, but if the time called for it, my palms would be marked with the blood of her enemies—my hands, my heart, my soul.
In her sleep, she made a soft sound, as sweet as she was to me. She ran her hand along the sheets she said made her feelas though the clouds outside had spun our bedding, and then, blinking, her stunning hazel eyes turned to me.
“Can’t sleep?” she whispered.
My hand slid down to her lower back, the deep dip that was made for me. It was the same as our hands. Hers fit perfectly in mine, and my hand fit perfectly on all spots of her body, her thighs and lower-back dip especially.
Keys to locks of us.
“Sleep,” I whispered to her in Italian, leaning over and kissing her softly on the lips.
Her eyes drifted closed, and as I gently ran my fingertips up and down her back, her mouth parted slightly, and she breathed easily as she drifted back into a deep sleep.
I had kept her up all night. My body a slave to hers. Especially after what had happened the previous night in the woods. It was as if we both were desperate for the healing only the other could provide. A near miss that made my soul tremble, and my anger rise to a height it had never reached before.
Forcing myself to unwrap myself from her scent, the warmth of her soft body, I got to my feet. I took care of the usual necessities in the bathroom, then dressed for a day of hunting.
My wife was sitting up in bed when I entered our bedroom. The covers were down, and her breasts were exposed to the chill, her raspberry nipples begging to be sucked. I licked my lips, my cock already hard. I could already feel her melting in my hands when my mouth would meet hers.
This was all it took.
Her breasts…her breasts were works of art. Warm, supple,perfetta. I closed my eyes, inhaling, and the scent of her wetness perfumed the air. She smelled so sweet to me.
“Rocco?” she whispered.
My eyes slowly opened to meet hers. She breathed out, squeezing the covers. “I just wanted to say…what did I want to say?” she mumbled to herself.
I grinned at her, taking steps toward the bed, and kissed her again. I could die this way, and it would be an honor.
She lifted her arms and wrapped them around my neck. “Now I truly can’t remember what I wanted to say.” She grinned against my lips. Then she sighed, and I breathed in her essence. “I remember,” she whispered. “Be careful, ah? I can’t do this life without you now that I found you—found my forever.”
“Dolce,” I whispered, kissing her lips, all over her face. “You are too sweet. You will give me a cavity.”
