Chapter 15
Millie
Iwoke up with a small moan, my body engulfed by a heat pressed firmly against my back. As my disoriented mind blinked at the sight of the unfamiliar bedside table and lamp, I realised that my fingers were tightly encircled around a hair-roughened forearm. Not just any forearm. Alessio's.
My husband.
A pleased smile curved my swollen lips as I shifted in his arms. My backside brushed against his hardening cock until his arms tightened around my front. Soft kisses were pressed against the back of my sweat-dampened neck.
"Mmm," I moaned. "What time is it?" If my body could melt into the mattress, I would. I was boneless, a little sore in certain private places, but still utterly content. And satisfied. My god, was I satisfied.
"Hmm?" Alessio lazily answered. "Who cares?" I felt his fingers pinch at my nipples, and a giggle escaped me.
Who cares? Where was my husband, and what had they done with him? Alessio was always aware of the time. His days were perfectly structured with every hour accounted for. Even when he was home with me, his work phone was never far away. He wasn't a chill-out-who-cares-what-time-it-is kind of person.
He also wasn't the kind of person to wear his heart on his sleeve.
My body warmed just thinking about it.
"Alessio," I admonished when his fingers started to creep towards my pussy. "You're insatiable."
We'd been at it for what seemed like hours.
We made love, cuddled and made out before passion overtook us again, and we were back at it like animals.
Alessio seemed determined to imprint himself deep inside me, both physically and emotionally.
He had taken me in every single position, and I blushed just thinking about all the dirty ways he fucked me.
And I was more than a willing participant.
I'd readily climbed on top of him, greedily taken him into my mouth, and tasted us both against his thick member. I'd begged, pleaded, and screamed to the point where a knock sounded at our door, requesting we quieten down.
"I'll give them a big tip," he'd panted as he continued to fuck me with my legs around his head. "I couldn't stop even if the world was ending."
Finally, when the shadows moved across the bed and the room darkened, we collapsed in a tangled heap and slept.
My stomach chose that moment to rumble, and Alessio made a small sound of distress.
"I forgot to feed you. Christ, I've failed already in my promise to do better."
I petted his arm. "It's okay. I need to freshen up first anyway."
And after we showered, we needed to talk. I had a lot to say to him, and despite his rambling speech of undying love, he also needed to explain some things to me too.
After dirtying ourselves up again in the shower, we finally washed the evidence of our marathon sex away.
I snagged his work shirt and slid it on, leaving a few buttons undone.
I'd brought my suitcase here with a change of clothes, but I was addicted to my husband's scent, and I wanted his smell all over my body.
"I hate to bring it up." Alessio's halting voice startled me, and I whirled around to face him. He was only wearing his work pants, leaving them unbuttoned but zipped up. He looked a little pale and, dare I say, a little insecure. "But did he stand you up?"
I was too busy admiring his naked chest that at first his words didn't register. "He?"
His gaze slid away, his jaw pulsing. "Archie…or whoever you planned to meet here. Did-did they stand you up, or did you somehow contact them to cancel?"
My jaw slackened as the impact of his words landed. What on earth? But I could see from his solemn expression that he was very serious. With an outraged huff, I reached out and playfully slapped his shoulder.
"Oh my god. Do you actually still think that I was meeting another man here? After everything we did there?" I flung my arm out to gesture at the rumpled bed.
"You weren't?" He sounded so small, so unsure and vulnerable.
I huffed and placed my hands on my hips. "Alessio…what exactly did Gordon tell you on the phone?"
His eyes flashed in remembered pain. "He told me that you were at the Gosford Ocean Hotel."
"And?"
"And? That's it."
I shook my head, not quite believing just how badly our wires were crossed. "Alessio…I know that Gordon's been reporting my movements back to you."
His face blanched. "What?"
I stifled a grin at the guilty redness that crept up his neck.
"You think I don't know that my own driver has been reporting my every move to you?
I wanted you to know that I knew, so I told him to call you and tell you that I was staying here, and that I wanted you to come meet me for some…
afternoon delight." I laughed at his startled expression.
"He was really embarrassed, and a small part of me wanted to punish him for tattling on me.
However, I hadn't quite expected you to storm the place and declare your love for me.
" My eyes turned glassy at the memory. In my mind's eye, I recalled a panicked and pale-looking Alessio spouting out enough flowery words to rival Shakespeare.
It was a moment I would treasure forever.
"Gordon didn't let you in on the fact that this hotel meeting was planned for you?"
His mind ticked over before his face flushed in realisation. He scratched the back of his head and ran a hand through his already mussed hair. "Well…come to think of it, it did appear like he kept trying to tell me something. And that explains why the receptionist readily handed me the key."
"You steamrolled over Gordon and didn't let the poor man speak, didn't you?"
He shook his head. "All I heard was that my wife was at a hotel. And the last time you were at a hotel…" His face rolled over in pained remembrance. "I just saw red. I hung up on him and came straight here."
"All guns blazing," I drawled.
His look was full of contrition before his dark eyes bounced around the room, finally soaking in his surroundings.
My phone that had been connected to the speakers playing top 40, timeless love songs on a loop—the playlist had since run out.
He took in the soft glow of the bedside lamp to create a romantic ambience, and then his gaze fell to the scrap of black lace on the floor that he'd unceremoniously ripped off me.
"So…you planned all this with me in mind?" His eyes widened with wonder. "Why? Not that I'm not bloody grateful, but I had the impression you were already two feet out the door."
I slowly nodded. "I was." The pain of the last few months returned in full force, and it took effort for my psyche to catch up with the current turn of events. I'd felt so alone for so long.
"But then I received a visit from your father."
His face turned to thunder, his features reddening in outrage. "My father? What did he say? Did he upset you?" His eyes scoured my body, as if seeking reassurance that I hadn't been harmed in any way.
I shook my head and reached out to clasp his hand. He immediately lifted my fingers and placed a soft kiss against them. "To the contrary." I breathlessly corrected him, my skin tingling against his lingering touch. "He actually came to request that I let you go."
"He what?"
"He somehow knew that you were in love with me," I shyly told him, wanting to calm the look of fury in his stormy eyes. "And he thought I didn't feel the same. He was worried that I would destroy you, like he had been eviscerated by his ex-wives."
He dropped my hand and tugged at his hair, his brow pulling down in pronounced annoyance. "He should never have said that to you. He should never have even put the idea into your head," he raged.
"He loves you," I interjected before he went right off on a tangent. "He didn't want you going through what he went through, so he planned on asking me to divorce you."
His face paled at the D word before his attention caught and held onto another. "Planned?" he pressed me, his voice hitching.
"Hmm, yes, planned. Because, you see, he discovered during our enlightening conversation that I was in love with you too."
His eyes widened as my cheeks filled with colour. But I met his astonished gaze head-on, bolstered by the answering love I spied in their depths.
The knot of nerves in my stomach had unravelled completely, and a great weight lifted off my shoulders.
The truth I'd held onto so tightly for almost three years was now free to find its home.
They no longer just belonged to the hidden corners of my heart, or the deep, still of the night when I would mouth them to a slumbering Alessio.
No longer did I have to catch the words from tumbling out of me when the dam of my wasted devotion threatened to burst at the most heated and inconvenient times.
Moisture brightened Alessio's dark eyes, lighting them beneath the dimness of the room. With a not-quite-steady hand, he reached out and cradled my face.
"You are?" He breathed the words, his voice disbelieving. "You love me? Truly? You don’t just feel sorry for me because I rambled and begged like a lovesick fool?" His voice caught, and he breathed deeply. "You truly love me?"
I nodded, tears clinging to my lashes. "Madly. For such a long time."
His eyes lit up for a split second before they quickly tumbled in despair. "Oh, Millie…I've been an idiot. This whole time…when-when did you fall in love with me?"
"When we were in Sicily. The first time," I confessed.
His breath sucked in with a sharp inhale. "Fuck." He turned away, his back muscles tense as he ran a hand through his hair.
"You told me you loved me," he muttered. "When we were in bed." He whirled around to face me, devastation creeping along the edges.
"Yes."
"It threw me off when you said it. I'd never—apart from my nieces, no one had ever said those words to me. They freaked me out." He looked down, his shame no longer allowing him to meet my eyes, to see the truth that he'd dismissed so long ago.