I moan around him, and his whole body shudders.
"Do that again."
I hum against his length, and his hips stutter. His grip on my hair borders on painful, but I don't care. I love this—love reducing him to this desperate, needy version of himself. Love knowing I'm the only one who gets to see him like this.
I pull back to catch my breath, my hand working his shaft while I recover. Saliva drips down my chin, and I don't bother wiping it away. Bruno watches me with hooded eyes, his chest heaving.
"You're so fucking beautiful." He traces my swollen lips with his thumb. "My wife. On her knees. Covered in spit."
I turn my head and take his thumb into my mouth, sucking gently. Bruno's cock twitches in my hand.
"Antonella." Warning laces his tone. "I told you I wasn't going to last."
I release him and smile up at him. "Then don't."
I take him back into my mouth, deeper this time. My nose brushes against his pelvis as I swallow around him. Bruno's hand fists in my hair, holding me in place.
"Fuck. Fuck, baby, I'm?—"
I don't pull back. Instead, I hollow my cheeks and suck harder, my tongue working the underside of his shaft. Bruno's thighs tense beneath my hands.
"I'm going to come." His voice breaks. "Antonella, I'm going to?—"
I moan my encouragement, and that's all it takes.
Bruno comes with a shout, he spills down my throat. I swallow everything he gives me, working him through it with my mouth and tongue. His hand in my hair trembles, his whole body shaking with the force of his release.
When the last pulse fades, I pull off slowly, making sure to lick him clean. Bruno slumps back in his wheelchair, his chest heaving, his eyes glazed.
I sit back on my heels and wipe my mouth. "Happy birthday."
Bruno laughs. "Come here."
I rise on shaky legs and climb back onto his lap. His arms wrap around me immediately, pulling me against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my cheek.
"You're incredible." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "You know that?"
"You might have mentioned it once or twice."
His hand strokes down my spine, gentle now where it was demanding before. "I mean it. Every day with you is—" He stops, struggling for words.
I lift my head to look at him. "Is what?"
"Better." He cups my face in his hands. "Every day is better than the one before. I didn't think that was possible anymore."
His hands slide down to my stomach, resting over the slight curve that's just beginning to show. "Now you're everything. You and this baby. My whole fucking world."
I cover his hands with mine. "I love you."
The words slip out before I can stop them. We haven't said it yet—not directly. We've danced around it, shown it in a hundred different ways, but neither of us has spoken the words out loud.
Bruno goes still beneath me.
"Say it again."
"I love you." My voice is steadier this time. "I love you, Bruno Sartori. All of you. The darkness and the light. The man you were and the man you're becoming."
His hands tighten on my stomach. For a long moment, he doesn't speak. Then he pulls me down and kisses me—deep and desperate and full of everything he can't say.
