He’d begun to make little jokes here and there, but only ones that came out of a true situation, so he wasn’t telling a lie. That was how serious their word was.
I closed my eyes when Rocco stepped up behind me and took me in his arms. First, we rocked for a bit. I was still in a robe and my pajamas, my bare feet on the cool tile floors. I was standing at the sink, doing dishes after our breakfast.
Each of Luca’s sons had a villa on the same street. It was reserved for the king’s sons. The villa was comfortable. It had exposed brick walls, warm wooden beams, rounded archways,wrought-iron details, and even an inside pool—though the villa was more like a comfortable Italian cottage.
I didn’t mind being here, or in the maincastello, if Rocco and I were together. Though…I didn’t think any place would feel like home as much as our winery in Piemonte. But I knew that, as the next king of the Fausti family, my husband would travel a lot. We’d always go together, unless life ordered us in different directions. That was something we had agreed on from the beginning, though. We couldn’t be without each other, or we didn’t feel whole.
With a touch that whispered, he moved my hair to the side, then set his lips to the pulse in my neck. My eyes closed, and a breath slipped from my lips. My hands stilled on the dish I was washing, and after he’d made a mark on me, his hands slid from my waist to my ass, and after such a sensual touch, the roughness of his squeeze made me suck in a breath. I was already wet for him.
After that, it felt like I was flooded.
My husband’s nostril flared. “You smell so sweet to me.” He kissed my pulse, sucking again while he kneaded my cheeks, and when his sensual mouth moved to the top of my spine, I went weak with want.
He swooped me up and carried me back to our bedroom, gently laying me down on the mattress we’d warmed not long ago. His mouth was fierce on mine, and I undressed him, demanding his skin to be against mine. Sometimes I felt like he was the match, and I was the kindling.
I burned for him.
As it always did when we were together, time was lost to me, and after we’d made love for…however long, I felt delirious. My bones felt like jelly, and my eyes could barely stay open. The night before…paired with all the nights before, and that morning…I was spent and felt like a used-up ragdoll.
Rocco ran me a shower, kissing me again, and after I got out, he kissed my neck. “I could not leave you until I knew you were safely out of the shower.”
“Grazie,marito mio,” I whispered. “Now go.” I set a hand on his sculpted chest, intending on pushing him playfully out the door. But the light from the bathroom window highlighted his sea-green eyes, and I was hypnotized, like when the sun plays over the most stunning water. Everything about my husband was designed to please a woman.
Me.
I was that woman.
His woman.
For the rest of our lives.
A rush of warmth shot up my chest, and my cheeks heated.
Our eyes were doing that thing again, the thing where we locked in and couldn’t let go.
A knock came at the door.
It was Donato, reminding Rocco that Luca would be waiting.
Right.
Rocco was going to ride dirt bikes with his father and brothers, maybe some of the other men. I noticed how Rocco’s face pulled in when Donato had to remind him of the time. Rocco was always the one reminding everyone else.
I smiled at the thought as he went to walk away. Before he could get too far, I smacked him on his firm ass. He became very still. And when he turned around, I pretended to wring my hand out, like his cheek had hurt me.
“Daaang,” I said. “What do you have in those pants, Fausti, ass cheeks or marble slabs?”
The grin on my husband’s face came slow, and when he stepped up to me, I took a step back. He looked like he was taking a mental screenshot for later—all the things he was going to do to me.
We stopped when my back hit the wall, and my eyes went up at the same time his came down. “My wife has jokes,” he said, setting one arm on each side of my head. “Let us see how funny she will be later, when my tongue is between her legs and I am devouring her.”
I was breathless as he left, and a beat too late, I shouted, “Promise me that’ll happen!” His echoing laughter made goosebumps rise on my arms, and the room was still warm from my shower.
After he’d left and I could focus, though half of my mind was always with him, I readied for the day. The women and I were all meeting up so we could discuss Thanksgiving dinner. It was one of Maggie Beautiful’s favorite holidays, and she insisted on a big get-together for it in her and Luca’scastello magnifico. When I’d called it that, she giggled and said I was a trip.
Once all the women met up at Rocco and my place, we began the planning over a lunch that we fixed ourselves. We each contributed a dish, except for Maggie Beautiful, who mostly sat at the table, drinking wine and telling us what we were doing wrong or right. At one point, Scarlett rolled her eyes and said to herself, “It’s fine, just sit there,” but then Maggie Beautiful flung a dishrag at her head, and we all started laughing.
After such a heavy lunch, olive oil and wine still lingering on my lips, we all decided to take a walk. It was a city within a city, but probably the safest in the world, with one way in and out, and so much security.
