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Three months later
“You didn’t have to send them away for the night.” I laugh as Gabriel walks out onto the deck, a platter held in both hands. “Did Agnes cook that?”
“No, I did.” He sets a platter of elegantly arranged lamb chops, surrounded by roasted root vegetables and potatoes, down next to the basket of bread and dish of herbed olive oil that he brought out a few minutes before. “Although it did take some practice,” he admits. “I watched the last couple of times Agnes made this.”
“I wondered what you were doing in the kitchen.”
“And I wanted us to have a romantic night alone,” he adds, as he sits down next to me. “Just because we’re all one big happy family doesn’t mean that occasionally, I wouldn’t like to have the whole villa to ourselves. Just you and me—and any room we feel like getting frisky in. Now that you’re feeling better.”
I can see the anticipation glimmering in his eyes. We’ve been intimate since the accident, but it’s always been careful, hesitant, with Gabriel constantly worried about accidentally hurting me. But I went to the doctor yesterday, and came back fully cleared for any and all activities. All of my injuries are completely healed.
As a result, Gabriel had Agnes and Aldo take the kids for the night, to the small cottage that they’re living in now. And, much to my surprise, he also cooked us dinner.
“I hope it’s good.” He hands me a plate, spooning food onto his before he reaches for the wine to fill both of our glasses. “And it’s a perfect night for it.”
It is the perfect night to eat outside. The air is cool with the slight nip of early fall, the air fresh and brisk. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” I say softly, looking out at the view of the estate in the twilight. “I’m so glad we decided to stay.”
“I am, too.” Gabriel taps his wine glass against mine. “To our future here, in our family home. Forever.”
“Forever,” I echo, taking a sip of the wine, a smile spreading across my face to match his.
The food is delicious, the wine perfect, and I’m startled to see that there’s dessert, too. “Agnes did make this,” Gabriel admits, as he brings out two slices of tiramisu. “I’m not this talented.”
“No, but with how good dinner was, you might be well on your way—Gabriel?” My eyes widen as he goes down on one knee next to my chair, the moment he sets the plates down. “What are you doing?”
“Bella—” He reaches out, taking my hand in his…my left hand, the ring he gave me sparkling on my finger in the low light from the deck. “I love you. And I should have told you that the day I asked you to marry me, the first time. But I promise I’ll make up for not telling you before for the rest of my life.” He pauses, taking a slow breath. “Will you marry me, Bella? Not an arrangement, not for protection, but because I love you, and you love me, and I want to spend all of our lives together.”
The answer to that question falls from my lips easily now—so easily that it’s hard to believe that I ever couldn’t say it before. “Yes,” I whisper, my throat choked. “I’ll marry you as many times as you want, Gabriel. And I love you too.”
He stands up, his hands going to my waist as he picks me up from my seat, his mouth crushing against mine with the kind of passion that I haven’t felt in months. I gasp, arching against him, and I can feel that he’s already hard against my thigh.
“Forget dessert,” he breathes against my lips. “The only thing I want to taste is you.”
A flood of arousal washes over me, heating my blood until I feel like I’m on fire with it. “I have a surprise for you,” I whisper, tugging back away from him. “Meet me in the library. Ten minutes.”
“If it’s a second longer, I’m coming to find you,” Gabriel growls, every word a promise.
The instant he lets go of me, I hurry into the house, and up to the bedroom. The small bag with the nightgown that I bought months ago is tucked into a drawer, and I reach for the pearl-colored silk, quickly stripping out of my clothes and sliding on the delicate panties and fragile nightgown.
Letting my hair fall down around my shoulders, I slip out of the bedroom and out to the library. When I open the door, Gabriel is already standing by the fireplace, small flames starting to leap from the wood stacked there.
He turns, and when he sees me walking towards him, the look on his face is full of such absolute lust that it takes my breath away. I barely make it to the edge of the rug spread out in front of the fireplace before he reaches for me, pulling me into his arms and kissing me hard, hungrily, as if he wants to devour me from the mouth down.
“You look beautiful,” he breathes, his hands sliding over my waist, my hips, fingers caressing the silk. “Like some kind of goddess.”
He turns me towards one of the chairs next to the fireplace, his hands on my waist, urging me down into it. Before I can ask him what he’s doing, he kneels down in front of me, his hands dropping to the edge of the nightgown as he pushes it up.
His eyes darken when he nudges my knees apart, and sees the thin panties beneath it.
“I like these,” he murmurs, his fingers gliding along the already damp silk between my thighs. “But I want what’s underneath them more.”
I nod speechlessly, and his fingers curl around the silk, tugging them down my hips. He balls the silk up in his hand, shoving it into his pocket as he spreads my legs wider, his fingers delving between my folds.
“So wet for me,” he groans, turning to press a kiss against my inner thigh. “I want to make you come, Bella. I want you to come all over my tongue.”
His fingers slide lower, two of them pushing inside of me just as he leans in, flattening his tongue over my clit as he starts to lick. I gasp, my head falling back as I feel the hot stroke of his tongue, matching the hard thrust of his fingers as he devours me like he’s starving.
It’s been so long since it’s been like this. Since he’s touched me like this, with wild abandon, without worrying about whether he’s going to hurt me. I cry out, one hand grabbing the side of the chair and the other tangling in his hair as he licks and sucks at my clit, fingers curling inside of me as he drives me to the edge. It feels so good, and I moan his name, my head falling back against the back of the chair as I feel my orgasm start to unravel, quick and hot and fast under the relentless onslaught of his tongue.
