When he leads me to the roof of the garage, I realize it doubles as a helipad, complete with a helicopter.
He owns a helicopter. Of course, he owns a helicopter, silly me.
“What about Emmanuel?” I ask, hesitant to leave him when he’s making such progress.
“He’s staying with Maria; we had a long talk about it. and he came up with his own terms for tonight.” He smiles widely.“Quite the negotiator, too. A new Xbox will be arriving any day now as part of our deal.”
I laugh, winking at him. “Like father, like son.”
The hotel is on the Maine coastline, perched on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The perfect winter wonderland this time of year. The suite he has reserved is stunning — floor-to-ceiling windows, a fireplace, the massive bed covered in rose petals, and champagne chilled and waiting on the entry table. It’s perfect.
“This is incredible,” I say in awe as I look all around me. Taking in the luxury I never imagined I’d experience once I’d joined the orphanage.
“Only the best for my wife,” Basili says with obvious pride, coming up behind me and placing his hand on my waist, his lips on my neck. “Mrs. Cierro.”
“Say it again.”
“Mrs. Cierro.” He turns me in his arms. “My wife.”
“Always yours,” I agree.
He kisses me, slow and deep, taking his time. His hands find the zipper of my dress and slide it down. Then he pushes it off my shoulders gently, so it pools at my feet, leaving me in the white lace lingerie Shufen insisted I buy just for the occasion.
“Cristo,” Basili breathes, taking in the sight. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“You like?” I ask with a flirtatious edge. “I thought you liked the dress?”
“I love the dress. But I love what’s under it even more.” His hands skim over the lace, making me shiver beneath his touch. “And I’m going to absolutely love getting you out of it.”
“Then take it off,” I encourage.
He does; with hands that are surprisingly gentle, he’s careful not to damage the thin lace as he undoes the clasp on the back, then slides it down my shoulders. Soon, it’s pooled on the floor with the dress.
“Your turn,” I say, reaching for his tie.
He kisses my bare skin as I undress him, causing goosebumps to break out wherever he makes contact. When we’re both naked, he lifts me easily into his arms, carrying me to the bed, and laying me down on the rose petals, gazing at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“I love you,” he says, settling between my thighs. “Every fierce, stubborn, beautiful part of you, Chloe.”
“I love you, too. Even the bossy, overprotective parts.”
He grins. “Especially those parts.”
“Maybe,” I say playfully, adding a wink for good measure.
He slides into me slowly at first, letting me adjust to him as he always does, watching my face, listening to me gasp. But slow doesn’t last long. Soon we’re both moving together, desperate for that release that only the other provides. He knows my body now, knows exactly how to touch me, exactly what I need to go over the edge.
“Let go, tesoro. I’ve got you.”
Those words, combined with his deep thrusts, send me right over just like they always do. I shatter around him, and he follows seconds later, gasping my name as he does so. We collapse together, breathing hard, both our bodies slick with sweat, completely satiated.
“That was —” I start.
“Incredible,” he finishes.
We lie like that for a long while, catching our breath, enjoying the warmth and weight of one another. His hand strokes lazy patterns on my skin.
“Chloe,” he eventually says, “what would you say if I told you I wanted more children?”
