"Especially after two years." He cupped my face. "You're more beautiful now than the day I met you. More confident. Stronger. The terrified woman pointing a gun with shaking hands became someone who runs a business, raises our children, and still makes my heart stop when you smile."
Tears pricked my eyes. "I love you."
"I love you, too,principessa. Always."
He kissed me deeply, and I melted into it. I let him undress me slowly, reverently, like he was unwrapping something precious.
My body had changed after the twins—softer curves, faint stretch marks silvering my hips, the C-section scar. Sometimes I was self-conscious about it.
But the way Alessio looked at me, touched me, worshipped every inch—I felt beautiful.
"Perfect," he murmured, tracing the scar gently. "You're absolutely perfect."
He laid me on our bed and followed me down, his body covering mine.
"Make love to me," I whispered. "Remind me we're more than just parents surviving chaos."
His dark eyes burned with desire as he looked down at me. "Eager, aren't we?"
"Three weeks," I reminded him, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him back to my lips. "I need you. Now."
He didn't make me wait. His clothes joined mine on the floor, and then it was just skin against skin, heat building between us the way it always did.
He kissed his way down my body—my throat, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts, the scar that marked where our children had entered the world.
"Perfect," he murmured again, before dipping lower, his breath warm against my skin as he moved lower.
When his mouth found me, I gasped, my hands fisting in the sheets. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to build the pleasure slowly until I was trembling, desperate, calling his name.
"Not yet," he said, pulling back just before I shattered. "Not until I'm inside you."
He didn't make me wait long.
He positioned himself at my entrance, his eyes locked on mine, and slid home in one slow thrust forward, filling me completely.
I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he moved, slow and deliberate, taking his time despite my urgency.
"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead pressing against mine. "Like you were made for me."
"More," I demanded, my voice breathless. "Please, Alessio, more."
He obliged, pulling back before thrusting forward again, harder this time, his rhythm building, each thrust deeper than the last. The familiar tension coiled tighter in my core, pleasure spiraling higher with every movement.
"Look at me,"he commanded, his voice sharp.
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze, and felt my heart swell at the love and desire I saw there. "I love you," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"Show me," he said, his pace quickening.
I did.
I let go, my body trembling as release crashed through me, my cries filling the room. He followed moments later, his own release shuddering through him, his name on my lips as he buried himself deep, my name on his lips.
For a long moment, we stayed like that, our bodies still joined, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. Then he withdrew carefullyand collapsed beside me, his arm wrapping around me, pulling me close.
"Worth the wait?" he asked, pressing kisses to my shoulder.
"Always worth it." I traced patterns on his chest. "Though we should try for more frequent than every three weeks."
