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Diana brought Jo, the woman who runs a homeless shelter for teen girls and as a good deed for our wedding day, we donated a hefty sum to her shelter.
We refused to have our fathers there.
I capture Diana's lips in a searing kiss as I settle my weight on top of her.
Diana whimpers softly, threading her fingers through my hair.
The sound goes straight to my groin.
“I love you,” I whisper against her mouth.
She smiles, her cheeks flushed.
“And I love you, Anthony Giovanni.”
No more waiting.
No more longing from a distance.
Tonight, I will finally make love to my wife.
I trail kisses down her neck as my hands wander over her body, relearning every curve.
The tension builds between us, fueled by years of pent-up passion and desire.
At last, Diana and I have found our freedom in each other’s arms.
And here, in our own little world, nothing else matters but us.
I pull back to gaze into Diana's eyes again.
Her lips are kiss-swollen, her cheeks flushed with desire.
She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"Are you sure about this?" I ask softly, stroking her cheek.
"We can wait if you're tired."
Diana shakes her head, looping her arms around my neck.
"I'm sure," she whispers.
"I'm pregnant, Anthony. Not invalid."
Those words ignite the fire in my blood.
I crush my mouth to hers again, kissing the mother of my future child with all the passion and longing I've had pent up.
Diana responds instantly, her lips and tongue dancing with mine.
We come up for air, panting.
Diana licks her lips, her eyes dark with need.
"Make love to me, Anthony."
I don't need any more encouragement.
