“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice languid with satisfaction.
“Making sure my cum stays where it belongs,” I tell her, slowly withdrawing only to push some of the escaping fluid back inside with my fingers. “Deep inside you.”
She grins up at me, her hair wild around her flushed face. “I think I want to wake up like this on every birthday,” she confesses.
I kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on my tongue. “That can be arranged, Mrs. Brewer-Russo. That can definitely be arranged, but for now, let’s shower so we can get some food.”
“So it’s really my birthday,” she muses, tilting her head back into the spray. “How did you know? I never told you.”
I laugh, loving how naïve she seems when she asks things like that. “I know everything about you, Mogliettina,” I remind her, my hands sliding down to cup her ass. “Learning your birthday was the easy part.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s no real annoyance there. “Of course you did, Mr. Thorough.”
I kiss her neck, tasting clean skin and shower water. “It’s part of my charm.”
“And,” she says, turning to face me with shampoo still in her hair, “were you planning on telling me it’s your birthday too?”
I freeze, hands still on her hips. “How did you know that?”
A triumphant smile spreads across her face. “I have my ways,” she grins.
“Alina,” I growl playfully.
“Raven mentioned it when we were dress shopping. She thought it was romantic, us getting married right before our shared birthday.”
“Sneaky,” I mutter. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about my birthday, wife. Definitely not as much as I care about yours.”
“Well, now we can properly celebrate both our birthdays,” she says, rinsing the shampoo from her hair before stepping out ofmy embrace. “Speaking of which, are you going to tell me what we’re doing today?”
I reach past her to shut off the water. “Breakfast first. There’s a place on one of the smaller islands I want to take you to.”
Her eyes light up at the prospect. “Will I get to drive the boat?”
The eager expression on her face makes my heart skip a beat. “Maybe,” I reply, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her shoulders. “If you’re good.”
“I’m always good,” she protests with a mock pout.
I lean in, biting that protruding lower lip. “That’s not what your filthy mouth was saying earlier.”
Her cheeks flush pink, but she doesn’t look away. Progress.
We dress quickly—Alina in a white sundress that brings out her tan and freckles. She even puts on jewelry: her diamond choker and necklace from her mom. She chatters excitedly about what else we might do today as she twists her damp hair into a loose braid.
I watch her, allowing myself a moment of simple appreciation for this amazing creature who’s now my wife. And I will level the fucking world to nothingness before I let anyone take her from me.
“Ready?” she asks, slipping her feet into sandals.
I push away the dark thoughts. “Ready,” I confirm, taking her hand.
We make our way down from the villa toward the dock whereLa Fortunawaits. The morning sun is bright but not yet oppressive, the breeze carries the scent of salt and tropical flowers.
Alina squeezes my hand as we walk, pointing out a brightly colored bird darting between the trees.
“Do you think we could have lunch on the beach later?” she asks. “Like a picnic?”
I’m about to respond when movement catches my eye. Colin, emerging from the path ahead, his posture rigid in a way that immediately puts me on alert. Beside him, Ian scans the water with binoculars.
Neither should be visible right now. That’s the arrangement; security stays invisible unless there’s a problem. My body tenses, instincts honed by years of danger recognition screaming at me. Something’s wrong.
