“No intense exertion yet,” he growls the reminder of the doctor’s order.
“Tommaso,” I protest. But I see stars when he takes over the movement, gripping my hips tightly and moving me harder and faster over him. “Oh god, yes.”
My skin is alive and tingling. My breathing comes out in shallow little pants. My nails dig into his shoulder. I want his clothes off; I want to feel his skin pressed to mine.
Next time, we need to do this with significantly less clothing.
Next time…Yes.
I’m currently heading toward an orgasm, already knowing that one won’t be enough, because it will just feed this greedy need within me.
Tommaso stops moving me over his rigid length, and my eyes pop open. A sound mixed with distress, frustration, and anger spills from my lips, and he grins while a deep chuckle vibrates from his chest into mine.
“What are you doing?” I demand, but my next words fall into oblivion, forgotten and unnecessary, as he slips one hand into my silk pajama pants.
Our eyes lock as he runs his finger over the wetness that coats my sex. They remain locked on mine as I wait, suspended and aching, while he teases me by running his finger through my slick entrance, but not pushing in.
When he finally—and so achingly slowly—pushes inside me, I don’t look away. I can’t. I’m locked in his gaze, seeing everything that’s been left unsaid. His need and want, his love. And the promise that I’m his and he’s mine, and that he’ll always keep me. Keep me safe, yes, but also, he will always just…keep me.
“I love you,” I whisper, not remembering the moment I fell in love but knowing I do love him with every fiber of my being.
My words cause something contradictory to pass over his face. At first, there’s his own declaration of love without even saying a word, followed by a dark look that’s so possessive.Obsessive.
He shifts from gripping my hip to wrapping his arm around my waist while using his other hand to move his finger in and out of me, and I feel my walls clench him tightly. “You’ll never leave me.”
Wouldn’t that be a question with most men? Or, at the very least, a plea?
With Tommaso, it’s a command.
A shiver rakes through me, and he pushes another finger into me, making me stretch and cry out in pleasure.
“Gina, answer me,” he commands while destroying me in such a delicious way. “Tell me you understand that you’ll never leave me.”
“I’ll never… Tommaso,” I cry out as he does something within me that makes tingles erupt over my skin and stars dot my vision. When he presses on my front wall, I moan, “I’ll never leave you.”
“Good girl,il mio sole. My perfect, good fucking girl.”
He kisses me as I break, drinking in my cries of reaching heaven as I climax. He leads me through it, continuing to move his fingers, somehow knowing exactly what my body wants and needs.
By the end, when it’s completely over, I’m draped over him, realizing that we’re lying back on the bed.
He gently rolls me onto my back, and I reach for him when he goes to get off me. But he doesn’t leave me. With his eyes locked on mine, he gently and slowly pulls off my silk bottoms.
His gaze is a physical caress as he looks down to where I’m being revealed to him. I lay there, letting him do all the work ofrevealing me to him. Not because of the doctor’s orders for no exertion, but because I can barely breathe with anticipation of what’s to come.
“No panties.” He growls. “Such a good girl.”
I grip the comforter as my toes curl; my mind not understanding why his calling me that is affecting me so, but my body doesn’t care.
“Will I…” I wet my lips and try not to pant at the way he’s looking at me, exposed from the waist down. “Will I be gifted with seeing you just as naked, husband?”
His piercing blue eyes snap up to mine. “Call me husband again.”
“Husband,” I whisper. “Mi marito. Il mio re.” My husband. My king.
His nostrils flare, and that possessive, almost obsessive, look passes over his gorgeous face again. “You will see me naked soon. Very soon.”
He trails his hand up my inner thigh, and I shift, trying to get his fingers where I desperately want him again. He doesn’t stop at my sex, though; he moves his hand upward and unbuttons my silk pajama top. He doesn’t hesitant, and I don’t stop him.
