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As the former Italian ambassador to the UN, Poseidon’s father, Frederico Allora, had pulledseveralstrings to get the paperwork for our marriage rushed through in two days. On our third day, Frederico, who was also a civil registrar, pronounced us man and wife on the terrace of the guesthouse overlooking their vineyards. Frederico’s wife, Britta, and one of Poseidon’s brothers served as our witnesses.
Britta wanted to prepare a big feast to celebrate, but Prisca and I insisted all we wanted was to be alone.
Now, I waited on the bed for Prisca to join me, crazy with lust for the woman who was my wife. Waiting even three days had been agony, but when she’d suggested the first time we made love should be as man and wife, I knew it was the right choice for us.
When the door opened and she came out of the bathroom wearing a simple cotton sleeping gown, I was glad I was already sitting down, or my knees would have buckled.
Backlit by the flames of the fireplace behind her, the silhouette of her body drove me mad with want. Her long blonde hair was down, cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. As she slowly padded toward me, her hardened dusty-rose nipples had me salivating for a taste. When I turned and sat on the edge of the bed and Prisca came to stand between my legs, I wrapped one arm around her waist, then leaned forward and pulled her against me. I rested my cheek against her abdomen and breathed in the scent of her arousal.
I moved her away from me and stood.
“Justin?”
“I love you, Prisca,” I said as I lifted the gown over her head, placed it on the end of the bed, then stood and looked at her gorgeous naked body. Pulling her against me again, I kissed beneath her ear, burying my face in her neck. I trailed my fingers down her throat to the nipples I couldn’t wait another moment to lick. She shivered when I swirled the peak with the tip of my tongue, and made the most beautiful sound when I sucked it into my mouth.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said. I lay back on the bed, and she climbed up and knelt between my legs. I took both her heavy breasts in my hands, kneading their flesh while using my fingers to toy with her nipples.
Knowing the small amount of restraint I possessed would soon snap, I rolled her to her back, stood by the bed, and pushed my flannels—the only thing I was wearing—to the floor.
I hissed when Prisca reached out and wrapped her hand around my hardness. When she started to stroke me, I stilled her, then settled between her legs on the bed.
Her thighs spread naturally, and I parted her slick folds with my finger, knowing what she wanted, but also knowing I would make her wait. Her body writhed, and she made more beautiful sounds of desire. I circled her wet, hot bundle of nerves with my finger and sucked the peak of her breast, nipping it with my teeth.
“Justin,” Prisca cried out, her back arching when I slid a finger inside her pussy. I released the nipple with a pop.
“I have to taste more of you, my love,” I said as I shifted down the bed.
“Please,” she begged when I pushed my finger deeper, stretching her tightness, readying her for me at the same time I caught her clit between my lips and sucked hard. My tongue danced and licked when she tightened around me. She was close, so close, but when I pushed her over the edge into the most exquisite pleasure imaginable, I had to be inside her. Our bodies had to be joined together as one.
I rubbed through her folds, coated myself in her wetness, then settled at her opening. Before I pressed myself inside, I kissed her. “Taste yourself on my lips,” I whispered against her moans, and as my tongue stroked hers, I eased into her.
“More,” she begged, but I took it slow, stretching her tightness and giving her body time to adjust to my size. I stilled, knowing if I didn’t, I’d lose control.
“Let go,” I heard her plead, just like she had the day I had her body pressed against a tree. “Stop holding yourself back. Give me your passion, all of it,” she said, repeating the very words she knew would make me lose control—and I did.
Our bodies moved together instinctively, beautifully, passionately. Our mouths met as I increased my pace, each time plunging as deep into her as I could go. Again and again, I pounded, moving faster, thrusting harder. When her pussy squeezed me like a vice, I stiffened, shouting her name, “Prisca,” as I came inside her. Neither of us moved, but our eyes met. “You are mine, Prisca Baur-Magnussen, and I love you.”
She reached up and cupped my cheek. “You are mine, Justin Magnussen, and I love you.”
EPILOGUE
SCHÖN
Magnet and I remained in Italy only one more day. When he asked where I wanted us to spend our honeymoon, I took him to the one place that had always been my home. While I’d initially worried my memories would be clouded by what happened there with Schmid, they were not. No matter how much time passed between my visits, as soon as I walked into the chalet on the St. Moritz hillside, I felt as though it was where I belonged.
Part of me also worried Magnet might not feel the same way about the place where I’d spent the first few years of my life, but when we first walked in and he helped me replace all the photos I’d carried from here to Shere to Gozo, Malta, Italy, and finally here again, everything felt just as it should.
Each morning, he’d light a fire while I made us coffee, then we’d snuggle back under the afghan my grandmother had made and watch the snow fall outside the windows. Most days, we’d return to the bed and make love again and again, after which we’d fill our stomachs with the food I remembered my mother making.
“Are you happy?” I asked him one day when he came inside after shoveling to make a path for us to walk outside.
“Happy?” he asked as I brushed the snow from the shoulders of his coat and from his hair when he removed his hat. “No, I’m not happy. That doesn’t begin to describe how I feel. I’m euphoric, joyful, living in a state of constant bliss with you, my love, my wife, my life. What about you? Are you happy?”
I smiled and kissed the tip of his ice-cold nose. “No, I am not happy either.”
We received regular reports from Nemesis regarding the progress made from the information the team had learned from Cassandra and Charlene. As Magnet reported, the younger sister had been gathering evidence against Ananke and AMPS for years, biding her time, hoping the day would come when she’d exact her revenge.
It would take years to dismantle an operation of their size. However, between what we’d learned from Charlene, investigations into the lives of Godwin and Schmid, plus Cassandra herself, we felt confident we could take them down.
