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“Me too, fiorella. Soon, we’ll have this every single morning.” I roll on top of her naked body, my cock already hard. “Let me show you what we’ll do when we have that.”
She smiles her gorgeous, unguarded smile she saves for me for times like these when there’s no one around and nothing between us.
“You ready this early, old man?” she says with a laugh, a hand on my cheek that needs a shave.
“I’ll show you how ready I am,” I say, then I use one hand to guide my cock to her, slamming in to the hilt.
“Fuck!” she moans, but her arms and legs wrap around me, her already wet pussy clamping down like it, too, doesn’t want to let me go.
“God, you’re always ready for me, aren’t you?” I say, looking down at her, her eyes hooded, her mouth slightly open.
Fucking gorgeous.
I can’t wait to give this woman the world and for the world to know how mine she is.
“Yes,” she moans, but her eyes stare into mine, telling me she means more than just ready for me to fuck her.
She’s ready to face the world with me.
Ready to take it on.
Her face is telling me she trusts me. She loves me. That whatever comes, she’s ready, as long as I’m there.
“God. Jesus. I love you, Delilah Antonia,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers. “I’m so fucking lost in you.”
“Dante,” she moans in a whisper, like she’s worried that if she speaks too loudly, she’ll break the spell.
“I know, baby.” Her hand moves, curling around my neck, fingers diving into my hair. “I know.”
“I need you so much.” I know she doesn’t mean that she needs me to help her come, that she needs my body or my cock.
I know because I need her just as terribly. That hole in my fucking gut never fills unless she’s in my arms, unless I’m breathing her air.
“Dante,” she says again, and as she does, she clamps down on me.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me, right now,” I say, pressing my lips to her as she moans, and I plant myself into her, grinding on her clit and filling her as we come together.
I stay there, holding my weight on my forearms for long minutes as we kiss, smile, and delay the inevitable before she speaks.
“Let’s stay here,” she whispers almost frantically. “Let’s stay here and start over.”
“What?”
“Let’s stay here. Change our names, get normal jobs, and be normal people. Start over.” Her eyes are going wide, excited, like she’s convinced herself already. “It could be just us. No families or retribution or rise to power or takeovers.” I sigh. I want that and I hate that I need to bring her back down to earth.
“You’d never be safe, baby. I need to make you safe.”
“I’m tired of being safe. I’m tired of following some stupid plan, of trying to make up for shit I didn’t do.”
“I know.” Silence fills the room, and I watch her, thoughts flowing over her eyes as she tries to decide if she wants to let them run free.
“I don’t want to relive history, Dante.”
“What?”
“My mom. Arturo. They thought . . . They thought they could change things. They thought they could be together. They were a secret, and he ended up dead.”
“Never. That will never be us, Delilah,” I say, my hand on her chin. “Ever.”
