He arches a brow and in a curious tone, asks, “On what?”
I lean further into Giulio’s chest and smile at Emilio Cesari with every bit of fierceness that Mean Daisy has instilled within me. “If you’re ever actually a threat to my family.”
The laugh that comes out of him is long and hard, and by the time he’s done, he’s wiping tears from his eyes. “If only you weren’t already married, Daisy,” he says with a shake of his head. “If only…”
“She is, so you’ll have to find your own, Cesari,” Giulio snarls, gripping me closer and shooing the other man away with an annoyed hand. “We might be in a truce now, but don’t think you can flirt with my wife in front of me and live to tell the tale. Get lost.”
More laughing, but Emil walks away, and I tip my head back for yet another kiss from my wicked, mafia husband.
EPILOGUE
DAISY
I never do the same mistake twice. Unless he’s hot. And my husband. Then I do him several times just to be sure I got the mistake right.
Six months later
I groan at the hand stroking up the skin of my outer thigh. When it switches its course and moves inward, touching first the side of my knee and then further up, I squirm.
“Giulio…”The light, gauzy curtains of the luxury vacation villa we arrived at the night before are nice, but I’m already missing our regular blackout ones back home. Another groan rumbles up my chest, but this time it has nothing to do with the hot feel of my husband’s fingers delving between my legs and finding the place that’s still sore from last night. “Turn off the sun,” I demand. His low, throaty chuckle is followed by a kiss on the side of my neck. I snap my fingers and point. “Now,” I order.
“I can’t turn off the sun,cara, that’s not how nature works,”he replies, still kissing my throat as his head dips toward my collarbone.What’s the point of having a badass killer husband if he doesn’t even do the simplest things for me?
“It’s too bright here,” I mutter, squinting at first the room and then him. “Who wanted to come to the Bahamas for a honeymoon anyway?”
“You did,” he reminds me, licking over the protrusion of my collarbone and then reaching for the hem of the large band T-shirt I’d fallen asleep in sometime around 4 or 5 a.m.
The sound of birds twittering outside makes my upper lip curl back in disgust. I cast a glare toward the window. “What is the use of a husband who knows how to torture and kill people if he refuses to use those methods on the birds that wake me at the ass-crack of dawn?”
Giulio lifts the T-shirt up and up and up some more. He bares my hips, and then the curve of my stomach, and then the undersides of my breasts before he speaks. “I’ll happily shoot them if you wish,” he murmurs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the bared hollow of my belly. “But I doubt the resort managers would appreciate that.”
My fingers find their way into his thick, dark locks and press. I feel rather than see his grin as he kisses me again, this time right over my sex. “Lower,” I say, breathless.
He hums in the back of his throat, the vibrations stirring my insides as I spread my legs wider, giving him full access. Giulio doesn’t waste time asking for permission. He dives down and licks up a path right through my aching, wet slit. I shudder and hook one knee around the side of his broad back, gyrating upward as his mouth moves over me.
His lips and tongue work in tandem to give me precisely what I need. Two fingers press into my core and then slide deep. “Ah,” I cry out, arching my hips so sharply that even my back bows up off the bed. Egyptian cotton, who? All I can feel is Giulio as he takes me like a starving man.
A tongue strokes up one side of the needy little bud of my clit and then down the other, but never touching it. My hand clamps down harder on the back of his head. “You’re being mean,” I groan, undulating my hips again, hoping he’ll take pity on me and give me an orgasm to start the day. I could go without sleep now, I would guess, but no orgasms? Blasphemy.
Giulio doesn’t respond. Instead, he pulls his lips away from my core and thrusts his fingers into my pussy with rapid movements. My hips swivel on the bed, dancing atop the mattress, and with his free hand, he pins them down. Smiling up at me with a mouth coated in my juices, Giulio fucks me with his fingers. When his thumb comes into play and finally—blessedly—presses down hard on my clit, circling in sharp little motions, I come apart.
A scream rockets up my throat as my hands clench into the sheets surrounding us, and my hips lift off the bed. Sparkles dance in front of my vision, circling me in a tornado of color and sensation.
Note to self: Get yourself a husband who has good hand coordination.
When I finally come down from my orgasm, sinking into the mattress at my back and covered in the thin sheen of sweat, Giulio is there. Hovering over me with that smile still on his face, he leans down and kisses me. I open my mouth and acceptthe kiss without compunction. I taste myself as well as him on his lips.
“Good morning, Mrs. La Rosa,” he murmurs.
I grin back at him. Arching up and locking one leg over his hip, I shove at his chest until he flops over onto his back and I’m astride him. “Not yet, it’s not,” I inform him as I slowly slide back and forth against the straining erection beneath me. “But it can be.”
His icy eyes, no longer cold but instead filled with a heat so volatile that it threatens to burn me alive, move over me as I reach down and finish stripping the T-shirt away. His palms come up and cup my breasts. “It’s about to be a fucking beautiful morning,cara,” he says, pinching both nipples in sync.
Hell yeah, it is, I think as he sits up to kiss me again. I shift my hips and slide right down his cock, all the way to the base. The groan that he releases is the best sort of reward. Giulio releases my breasts to take my hips in hand as he guides me up and down his shaft. Over and over again, and on each drop down, I grind my clit against him, feeling the ricochets of my orgasm blooming back to life.
Distantly, I hear the rattle of wood as the man in the bedroom’s closet comes awake himself. I roll my eyes at the same time that I roll my hips into Giulio’s next thrust.
“Shut up!” I snap, riding against my husband until that blossom of pleasure swells into an inferno.
