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‘Mine.’ The one word left his mouth possessively.
‘Yours,’ I agreed.
Then he was on me.
I knew he wasn’t going to be gentle. His eyes had darkened in his perusal. His fingers abrased my needy skin, touching and taking. His erection pushed against my body, showing me how much he wanted me, and in response I felt a flood of warmth in between my legs. His mouth crudely consumed mine with a familiarity I knew no one else would ever have.
When his lips parted from mine, I was left weak in response to the strength of our mutual need. Salvatore travelled down the length of my torso, biting various parts of my body through my dress, while rolling my hardened nipples he’d found still contained within my lace bra. With every bite, I gasped or moaned in pleasure. A pleasure that seemed to be heightened given the place we found ourselves in.
Leaning back on his haunches his eyes refocussed on mine. Using both hands he lifted the bottom of my dress. Within seconds, and apparently with no concern over who might see us, he lifted my bare legs up and placed them over his shoulders. His hands moved quickly to grab hold of my bum cheeks and with my shoulders dragging against the smaller rocks beneath me, he lifted my core to his face.
With his face pressed into the small triangle of fabric between my legs, he released another animalistic growl. He wrapped both of his arms tightly around my thighs and held me there, right where he wanted me to be.
He groaned against the flimsy piece of fabric that separated us and then tore it away. As the reverberations travelled through me, taking and possessing all of me, I clasped my hands to his head. I no longer cared that someone might come across the two of us, in fact I understood rather guiltily that the thought of that happening had added extra pleasure to the situation.
Determined to savour the intense hedonism he was driving my body towards, I threaded my fingers into his hair and released a mewl of unadulterated pleasure.
The world slipped away.
I was lost in him and only him.
As the waves of my orgasm rushed over me, I was only aware of me repeating his name over and over into the winds that swirled around us.
Then as the final ripple left me, I held his head briefly to my pelvis.
‘Thank you.’ I released him, and his head lifted away.
‘My pleasure.’ He grinned as he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth.
‘I thought you were going for a run?’ I smiled up at him, feeling a blush hit my cheeks.
‘Sex is a form of exercise.’ He shrugged, before gently placing my legs back to the ground either side of him. He moved a hand through his unruly hair and focussed his eyes on mine. ‘We may have seemed apart to others, but I’ve always felt you in here, Serafina.’ He placed his hand over his heart. ‘You needn’t have any concerns about today and our future, because I’m here with you and we will face it together.’
At his words, my earlier trepidation of re-entering what would be perceived to an outsider as an antiquated society was extinguished.
CHAPTER NINE
SERAFINA
In the backof my head, I knew I wanted to wear a dress to see his grandfather. He was, I had found out after being married to Salvatore for a few months, a charmer. He treated the women in his family with an old-fashioned sort of respect, as long as they toed the line and earnt it. He had often complimented me on how pretty I looked when wearing a dress, and somehow that’s how I envisaged our first meeting for many years.
What I hadn’t imagined was the jeans, leather jacket, helmet, and biker boots that my husband had insisted I wore. But here I was, holding on to the back of Salvatore, while he tore through the countryside leaving a plume of dust behind us in our wake.
But I knew I wouldn’t have swapped the feeling of euphoria our given position was offering me. I could feel his strength and assertiveness as he controlled the heavy beast of his almost antique bike, as he threw it around tight corners and difficult bends. It was the same one he’d had since he was a teenager, and he’d explained to me before that while he could buy any bike he wanted, this one reminded him of where he’d come from, so he kept it around.
Riding behind him had been another thing I’d missed sharing with him, as it was one of the only times we were ever truly alone.
He rode the bike like the way he lived his life.
Fast, taking no prisoners, and in complete and utter control.
All too soon, we were approaching the outer perimeter of his family’s land. High, whitewashed walls covered in greenery, with large, fuchsia-coloured flowers, made it look like we were approaching a well thought out town development. Which I supposed in a way we were. It was only when you looked closer that you could see the security cameras and the men positioned on some of the higher sweeps of the vast wall.
Four heavily armed men stood outside the ornate ironwork that was the main gates. Upon seeing us approach, they stood aside and radioed for the gates to open. Salvatore slowed, timed his advance to perfection and swept us inside the second the gates were wide enough to accept us.
With the bike now slowing beneath us, Salvatore sat up, making me sit in the process, and letting go of the handlebars with one hand, he moved it backwards to caress my jean-clad thigh. With the roar of the bike’s engine lessening, I knew we could talk.
‘Can we walk down the avenue of lemons?’ I asked as the aroma of the lemon oil found me.
