Epilogue
VALENTINA
Six months later…
Pleasure spreads from the center of my core and sprouts outward until it tingles in my toes and the roots of my hair with one teasing lick of Giovanni’s tongue.
He draws my clit into his mouth as he slides two fingers inside me.
I clamp the walls of my vagina around him, welcoming the invasion.
It feels so good. Having him inside me in any way is pure heaven.
A needy moan parts from my lips when he furls his fingers and milks the sweet spot inside me. My noises are desperate and needy, and they spur on Giovanni.
He eats me for a few hungry minutes before he adds brightness to the stars blistering in front of my eyes.
“Mmm, I smell so good in you.”
The very second his nose hits the opening of my pussy, I shudder. My climax is brutal and fierce. It shakes my limbs from head to toe and wholly obliterates me.
I teeter between semi-consciousness and unconsciousness when Giovanni’s hot breaths batter my aching pussy. “One more.”
The bunched-up sheets make a mess of my hair when I shake my head.
That’s my third orgasm this morning. I’ve got no gas left in the tank.
When I say that to Giovanni, he peers up at me and sardonically raises a brow.
“I… Oh, God.” The change-up in my sentence is from Giovanni’s determination to prove me wrong. He kisses, licks, and sucks at my pussy until pleasure coils in my stomach and then releases.
I cry out as a climax slams into me as brutally as a tsunami crashing to shore.
I’ve barely emerged from the clouds when Giovanni hooks my ankle and drags me down the mattress. Dark hair spills over my shoulders when he flips me over, then arches my back until his fat cock sits in the seam of my ass.
“Mmm,” he murmurs again when I grind against him.
“Tempting, dolcezza. Very fucking tempting.” With his hand wrapped around his cock like a protective barrier, he notches the head of his cock into my ass.
Not a lot. Just the tip. “But since your pussy will be out of commission for weeks in two short months, I think I’ll save your ass for another day. ”
“My ass will be out of commission then, too. Remember?”
My clit feels his groan when he wipes the swollen tip of his cock with the damp towel he usually cleans me up with, before he slowly enters me.
My moan tells him how much I love it when he goes slow.
His gentle side is a rare treat I think will become more frequent when our child arrives in a little over two months.
One of our little sesame seeds held on for dear life. It made it through an attempted murder, two operations, and severe hyperemesis gravidarum. And for every setback, Giovanni was at my side, supporting me.
The doctors warned him I’d most likely miscarry before reaching twelve weeks, yet his support never waned. He was adamant that even if I was diagnosed as infertile, he wasn’t going anywhere. His stance made me fall in love with him more than I ever thought possible.
He worships me, both in and out of the bedroom, and I can’t wait to see how much our dynamic improves when we become parents.
It’s done wonders for Dante, so I don’t see it being much different for Giovanni.
A familiar tingle builds low in my core when Giovanni reaches between my legs and finds my clit. He toys with my clit and rocks in and out of my overstuffed pussy.
“You feel so good, dolcezza.”
I try to reply, but I can’t. It’s too surreal. Not just for my body, but for my heart as well.
Our coupling was so fast and chaotic it should have crashed and burned within weeks, but here we are, months later, still living the dream.
I’d pinch myself if I weren’t afraid of waking up.
It isn’t solely Giovanni I’m terrified of losing, but also my mother and Giovanni’s father.
Mom beat the odds as well. As of last month, she’s officially disease-free. Dr. Russo calls it a miracle. I know better. It’s because of him. My mother is alive because Giovanni moved heaven and earth to save her for me, and I will forever be in his debt.
Don’t mistake what I’m saying. Even if Giovanni was as poor as dirt and unable to rub two nickels together, I’d still be here.
Love isn’t about money and possessions. You could have all the money in the world and still want to burn it to the ground.
Both my father’s and Giovanni’s father’s lives are proof of this.
Valeria did everything she could to make our father happy. She sold her soul. But it still wasn’t enough. The more she gave him, the more he wanted. It was a vicious cycle that made her a shell of the woman she could have been if her mother had protected her as my mother did me.
Twenty-eight years of wrong teachings will take more than six months to correct, but if anyone can do it, I believe Giovanni and I can.
Giovanni isn’t close to forgiving Valeria, but the fact that she’s invited to the baby shower my mom and aunt are hosting today is a step in the right direction. And it will continue to improve the more we replace negative influences in her life with positive ones.
Giuseppe’s story is a little different from my father’s. He had money, power, and the loyalties of his sons. He just no longer had the love only a spouse can provide.
The loneliness of contemplating a life without his other half ate at him—literally.
Science says you can’t die from a broken heart. Giuseppe’s illness proved otherwise. He was withering to nothing, preferring to contemplate death rather than to continue living without love.
Then an old flame re-sparked, and he found a new reason to live.
I won’t lie. Having hyperemesis gravidarum comes in handy when your middle-aged parents forget the purpose of a dining table.
You’re meant to eat at it.
Don’t look at me like that. Giovanni ate at my aunt’s table, and anything after that can be excused by baby brain.
This, though. I’ll never forget this.
A connection like the one I have with Giovanni doesn’t have an expiration date. It’s like canned food. It lasts forever and will survive any storm.
I genuinely believe that, and I truly believe in him, my dark knight who is screwing me to near unconsciousness.
I rock against Giovanni, taking another two inches. My grinds are cruel. I want him to lose control, and I want him to lose it now.
“Fuck… dolcezza,” Giovanni roars, his hand slipping on my hip. We’ve been going at it for hours, so every inch of our bodies is covered with a sheen of sweat. “It just gets better and better.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach as several indicators of another orgasm present. I love how obsessive he still is. How possessive. It’s like his thirst will never be quenched and I’m his only source of fluids.
As I sink into the pillow, I shake and moan. Everything is so deliciously tender that when Giovanni’s dick throbs in a way that announces his release is imminent, I give him the words he needs to push him over the edge. “I love you, Vanni.”
He groans my name as he comes hard, and I surrender to the tingles running rampant through my body. My lungs fail me. I’m reduced to wheezy pants and a mouth that shouldn’t be as wet as it is.
Giovanni is just as exhausted. He collapses onto the mattress, taking me with him. Our position is similar to the one when he snuck into my hospital bed months ago, but this time, instead of facing away from him, I face him.
For several long minutes, while he strives to catch his breath, I admire every perfect inch of the man I’ll forever class as mine.
Even when he’s sated, his muscles are primed to move if anyone dares to challenge him, and his eyes are burning with an intensity that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room.
Perhaps even the only person in his world.
My heart stutters when I take in the dark lashes curtaining his eyes, and the five o’clock shadow that’s arrived twelve hours too early.
I’ve seen handsome men before, but Giovanni is on an entirely different scale. He isn’t just a handsome man, though. His powerful aura is his armor, and there’s warmth hidden beneath the layers of steel that is reserved solely for me.
His eyes tell me this when he notices me staring, as do the words he speaks next.
“I love you too, dolcezza. Always.”