AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice a hoarse rasp. “That was?—”
I nod speechlessly, still shaking and breathless from the aftershocks. He reaches down as he lets go of my ankles, letting my legs drop and fall open on either side of him. I moan with startled, surprised pleasure as he sweeps two fingers over my clit, gathering the cum clinging to my skin. And then, I watch as his cock slides free, and he presses his thumb down on my clit as he pushes his two fingers inside of me, getting every last drop of his cum inside along with them.
Salvatore leans in, his tongue sweeping over my lips as he claims my mouth in one more hard searing kiss, his thumb working my clit as he fucks his cum into me with his fingers, sliding them free only to gather up whatever is left on my pussy and push it deeper still. “Come for me again, tesoro,” he demands. “Make sure you take all of my cum.”
I gasp against his mouth, so exhausted I can hardly move, but my body effortlessly obeys his commands. I feel myself clench around his fingers, my oversensitive clit throbbing under his touch, and I come once more for him, moaning his name as he leans into me, the warm weight of his body enveloping me.
“Good girl,” Salvatore murmurs against my lips, and I whimper, clenching around him once more as he slips his fingers free. He chuckles softly, rolling to one side as he tugs the blankets down, his arm going around me to pull me into the curve of his body. He’s warm, and the feeling of his arms around me makes me feel safe for the first time in so long.
I never, in my wildest dreams, imagined Salvatore Morelli snuggling me. But he holds me against his chest, tucking the blankets in around us, and I feel my eyes growing heavy with sleep. I feel wrung out from pleasure, warm and comfortable, and in that moment, I feel sure that I never want to leave this bed.
I feel hopeful, I think, as my eyes start to drift shut. I like the side of Salvatore that I saw today. I enjoyed our entire day together, and I enjoyed what happened after, too. If every day could be like this, I think, I could be happy.
It’s the last thought I have before I fall asleep on his chest.
Gia
In the morning, I wake up with my head on Salvatore’s chest, his arm underneath me, and the soft sound of his snoring near my ear. We’re still both naked, my leg flung over his and our bodies pressed closely together, and I’m briefly startled before I remember everything that happened yesterday—and last night.
I feel Salvatore stir next to me—from the fact that he’s gotten up before me most mornings without waking me, I’m pretty sure he’s a much lighter sleeper than I am. I start to move away a little to give him his space, but his arm tightens around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“I’ve never woken up with anyone like this before,” he murmurs next to my ear, his breath ruffling my hair. “In my arms—” his lips brush against my ear, teeth gently grazing the lobe, and I feel a rush of relief, as if I’ve let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
I hadn’t realized, until just now, how worried I was that he would wake up and regret everything about yesterday. That he’d put all his walls back up, and we’d go back to the way things were before. That yesterday would have been a fluke.
But from the way his mouth is moving down the side of my neck, Salvatore definitely doesn’t want to go back to the way things were before last night.
A jolt of guilt hits me as I remember how we ended up here in the first place. I squirm away from him long enough to sit up, tugging the sheet up above my breasts, and Salvatore gives me a curious look. There’s a wariness in his eyes that I recognize, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing that I was—wondering if yesterday was just a one-time thing, and we’d go back to fighting each other today.
But I don’t want that, and I don’t think he does either.
“I’m sorry,” I say abruptly, and Salvatore tenses, sitting up further. The white sheet pools around his hips, instantly dragging my gaze downwards, and I can see the shape of his cock beneath it, clearly also eager to pick up where we left off last night.
Salvatore clears his throat, and my gaze shoots back up to his face, my cheeks heating. “What are you sorry for, dolce?” he asks gently.
“For making you jealous,” I whisper. “That’s all that was with the bartender. I was upset, and hurt, and I wanted to make you jealous. It never meant anything.”
Salvatore chuckles mirthlessly, a low, dark sound deep in his throat. “Well, you succeeded,” he says dryly. “Although maybe not the way you wanted.”
My blush deepens, remembering the way he bent me over the bed, the astonishing pleasure of it despite the unexpected violence. I swallow hard. “Well—if that happened again…I’d rather it not be because you’re really angry with me.”
Salvatore’s eyes narrow, and I see his mouth twitch a little at the corners. “You want it to happen again, dolce?”
My face feels like it’s going to burst into flames at that. “Maybe,” I mumble. “But that’s not the point. The point is?—”
“That you’re sorry. Yes, tesoro, I know.” Salvatore’s hand reaches for mine, tugging it down away from the sheet, although I keep it clutched to my chest with the other one. “But it is good to hear you say it.” He pauses. “Did yesterday make you happy?”
I nod. “It did. It was—it was exactly what I wanted. What I hoped for. I don’t—” I bite my lip, feeling a flood of nervousness slide through me. “I don’t want to go back to the way it was before. Fighting with each other, and?—”
“I don’t want that either.” Salvatore’s fingers link through mine, both of our hands resting on the sheet between us. “I can admit that I was wrong to dismiss the idea that you should be my wife in more than just name. I shouldn’t have expected you to be satisfied with that, just because of my own hang-ups.” He looks over at me, and with the tension gone, the set of his shoulders, and the lines of his face relaxed, he looks younger. Happier. Extraordinarily handsome, sitting in the middle of the white-sheeted bed, his tan skin and dark hair offset by it, the sun coming in through the window and spilling over us both. I feel a shiver of desire ripple down my spine, looking at him.
At my husband. The word no longer makes me feel a tangle of panic, fury, and resentment. Instead, I feel cautiously hopeful about it all.
“I don’t see why every day can’t be like yesterday,” I say softly. “If we both try. If I try to understand the weight of the responsibilities on you, and you try to understand how much of an adjustment all this is for me, and we work on living our lives together—” I bite my lip. “I know every day can’t be sitting by the beach, drinking margaritas and getting a tan. But?—”
“It’s a shame,” Salvatore reflects with a laugh. “This vacation thing is beginning to grow on me.”
“We should do it more often, then.” I swing a leg over him on impulse, settling into his lap, and I feel his sharply indrawn breath as I fling the sheet away and loop my arms around his neck. “Once the Bratva threat is taken care of.”
