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“Harder, Ben,” Nikita screamed.
I could not deny my lady anything it seemed, so I hammered into her hard.
Sweat beaded on our bodies. The tingling in my balls spread over the length of my spine causing my head to feel light.
The pulsing of my dick thundered in both ears. I had fucked many women in the past, but none of them had me wanting to crawl out of my skin and into theirs as Nikita did.
I squeezed my woman tight. Her nails scraped pathways down my back, and we huffed and puffed in unison.
Nikita's pussy tightened, she screamed my name, and the warmth of her orgasm flowed over my dick. I clung to her as if my life depended on having her in my arms. My balls crawled up inside my body, and on a loud groan, I shot my load into her.
With every thrust, I emptied more cum into my lady. With no more left to give, I released my hold on Nikita, rolled onto my back, wrapped one arm around her waist and held her into my side. She gazed into my eyes before resting her head on my chest and I kissed the top of her head.
While she drifted into sleep, I mused on the changes she'd caused in me in such a short time. The mostly heartless, cruel man she had married, had softened beneath her feisty but giving touch.
Chapter Eighteen
NIKITA
Four months later
Benvolio held my hand across the space between our seats as the Hawaiian Airlines plane descended into Honolulu airport.
The past months with my husband had been a cross between heaven and on occasion—hell, while we both made the adjustment to compromising. Considering another person's opinion was something that was unusual for me, I'd grown up an opinionated, spoiled brat, but it was totally foreign to Benvolio. As head of the famiglia, he had grown up believing his word was beyond challenge—law.
We argued vigorously and fucked passionately. Somewhere along the way, I'd fallen in love with my husband, and I suspected he felt the same way, but being the stubborn ratbags we were, neither of us had been willing to admit it to the other yet.
The plane bounced on the tarmac, and the engines screamed as the brakes were engaged to slow the forward thrust, before taxiing to the terminal. I'd never been to Hawaii. Although I had travelled a lot with my father, it had been mostly to Europe or the Caribbean. I was excited to explore the island of Oahu and see if was as gorgeous as the pictures I'd seen.
The seatbelt off sign pinged and I released the clip, freeing the belt's hold. We had travelled first class with a lie-flat bed, but I hadn't done more than doze. Although not tired, I was somewhat weary but far too excited to sleep.
Benvolio stood and grabbed our small travel case before he took my hand, and we left the aircraft.
The long walk through the terminal to luggage collection seemed to take forever but we eventually reached the front of the airport and retrieved our suitcases. Checks by Homeland Security were conducted with efficiency, and they had obviously not been trained to be friendly. Less than an hour after the plane landed, we were spat out onto the concourse where travellers and the general public rushed back and forth.
I sighted a man dressed in a black suit, white shirt, black tie and wearing a chauffeur's hat who held a sign with our surname written in black ink. We headed straight to where he stood and introduced ourselves. The man—Makoa, draped two orchid and carnation floral leis around our necks before taking one of the large suitcases from Benvolio. We were escorted along the concourse, and through a door leading into the warm morning air. A black limo was parked at the kerb.
Our luggage was piled into the boot while Benvolio and I climbed inside. A bottle of champagne was on ice in a bucket and two glasses were nearby. I wasn't normally a drinker, especially not at nine in the morning, so when Benvolio offered to pour me a glass, I refused. In a small fridge, he located two bottles of water, and I accepted one, drinking while peering through the window as we were driven towards downtown Honolulu.
I had read the distance from the airport to our hotel was only eleven miles, but with traffic, it took the better part of an hour before the driver pulled to a stop in front of the Hilton Hawaiian Village where we were to stay for three weeks.
Benvolio tipped our driver generously after he unloaded our luggage and set it on the footpath. He drove away and we headed to the outdoor reception area. My husband had arranged for early check-in and while I waited off to one side, I studied our surroundings.
The area was ablaze with colourful, tropical plants, their leaves waving in the soft breeze. I blinked a few times when a pair of pink flamingos wandered past in the gardens. I'd read the complex had birds but hadn't expected they roamed free.
I startled when Benvolio spoke close to my ear. "Ready?"
“Look.” I pointed in the direction of the brightly coloured pair of birds, the excitement clear in my voice.
“There are usually a few wandering around but the penguins are kept in a controlled area. After we shower and change I’ll show you around the village.”
“I’d rather go for a swim. I can’t wait to be on Waikiki Beach and see if it looks like it does in the movies.”
Benvolio laughed. “I guess we’ll explore the village later then.”
"Do you know Elvis stayed here when he was filming Blue Hawaii?" Other celebrities had also stayed, but Elvis was one of my idols. Visiting Graceland a few years earlier had been a dream come true.
“I did know. There is information about all the famous faces that have stayed here over the years on one of the walls. Don’t forget I’ve been here eight or nine times now, it’s one of my favourite destinations.”
