Her eyes flare at the term of endearment.
“Are you more comfortable hearing it in Italian, tesoro?”
“I guess I’m surprised to hear it at all,” she replies truthfully.
“You are my treasure.” I kiss her cheek, then drag my lips down to that sensitive spot by her ear. “You are the best part of my life.”
Her hands glide up and down my back, then her fingertips follow the same path, making me even harder. I rear back and sink slowly inside her waiting heat, watching her gorgeous eyes as I press in as far as I can, then rest there, watching her.
“So proud of you, Alecia.”
“Thank you.” Tears fill her eyes and she closes them.
“Don’t close your eyes,” I whisper and brush a tear aside. “You don’t ever have to hide from me.”
“I’m not.” She shakes her head lightly, then looks back up at me, with her heart wide open for the first time.
It’s magnificent.
“Do you know how much you scare me?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
I begin to move, filling her, then pulling out, in long, smooth, sure strokes. Her breath hitches, her fingers dig into my back, and she clenches around my cock in the most delicious of ways.
“You are everything,” I say into her ear, as I make gentle love to her. “And yes, tesoro, it scares me too, but not having you scares me even more.”
“Me too.”
I grip her hand in mine, lacing our fingers, and press it down into the bed as I begin to ride her harder, but not faster. I press the base of my cock against her clit and grind down, and that’s all it takes for her to fall over the edge, coming hard, taking me with her.
I love you.
Chapter Fifteen
~Alecia~
I’ve been waking up to his handsome face for more than two weeks now, and it never fails to take my breath away.
Or make me squirm in pure, unadulterated lust.
I mean, look at him. He’s all dark skin and hair against my white sheets, gathered at his waist, giving me a prime view of his defined abs, sculpted arms, and magical hands with long fingers.
He’s shown me what my body was made for. In the week since the wedding, he’s spent every night here in my bed with me, leaving each morning to go back to the vineyard, but he always returns every evening for dinner, wine, conversation, and the best sex of my life.
I can’t resist dragging my fingertips down his rough cheek, enjoying the way the scruff feels on my skin.
With his eyes still closed, he grins, flashing that dimple, and captures my hand in his, bringing it to his lips.
“Good morning,” he whispers against my palm.
“’Morning,” I reply and lean in to kiss his shoulder. “We need to get up soon. Baseball game today, remember?”
“I remember.” He pulls me into his arms, into what I consider my spot, cozied up against his side, my head on his chest and arm wrapped around his ribs, where I simply fit just right. “But we should do this for a little while first.”
“Do what?” I nuzzle my nose into his neck and take a deep breath, enjoying him.
“Just be,” he says, and kisses my head.
“This is nice,” I whisper.
“Mm.”
“I’m not gonna be available every night next week,” I say regretfully.
“Oh?”
“It’s summer, so I have events every night next week. Except Wednesday.”
“I have an event at the vineyard on Wednesday,” he says with a sigh. “We’ll survive five days apart, cara.”
His hand travels down my back to my ass and back up again, into my hair, then down once more, lulling me into sleep.
“Tesoro,” he whispers in my ear as he rolls me onto my back. His fingertip brushes down my temple and cheek. “Wake up.”
“Hmmm.”
“We slept another hour.”
“We did?” I ask groggily and stretch, still not opening my eyes.
“We need to get ready to go.”
“Okay.” I don’t move. I simply lay here and enjoy his hands on me, in this space right between sleep and wakefulness.
“This isn’t waking up,” he says dryly.
“I’m awake.”
“I wish we could just stay here all day, cara, but it’s kind of a big day for Matt and Nic. We have to go.”
“I want to go,” I reply and crack open an eye to find Dom hovering above me, that dimple winking at me, his blue eyes happy and pinned on mine. “Hello, handsome.”
“Ciao, bellissima,” he replies and flashes that charming grin at me.
“Dear God, I love your Italian. It’s sexy as hell.”
“It is?” His voice is heavy with sarcasm.
“You know it is.”
He brushes his fingertips down my chest to my stomach. “Hai la pelle più morbida.”
“What was that?”
“You have the softest skin,” he whispers and plants a kiss on my shoulder.
“We don’t have time for this,” I warn him with a grin. Jesus, his lips are incredible.
Instead of answering me, he grins wolfishly and suddenly stands, pulling me with him. He tosses me over his shoulder and stalks into the bathroom, starts the shower and when the water is warm enough, sets me down in the large stand up shower.
“I could have walked,” I inform him.
“But then I wouldn’t have carried you,” he replies, and reaches for my shower gel.