Chapter Fifty
Ciro
I t’s been seven days since Vida left, but it feels like seven lifetimes. Working had always been the easiest thing to do since Mother died, but for the first time since then, I didn’t want to do a single thing. Everyday I waited eagerly for the night to come, so I could snuggle in her bed and fill my nostrils with her scent.
I’ve missed people in the past, but this? This was different. I yearned for her, loathing every second that passed and she wasn’t by my side. I knew I couldn’t live without her, but now? Now I know that just being in different countries could kill me.
I sit at the table in her room that faces the ocean at the back of the house. With a pen in my hand, I work on letter number twenty-one.
Twenty-one letters in a week, three a day, one for each time the thought of her became too much to bear.
Morning.
Afternoon.
Night.
There’s nothing wrong with writing 21 handwritten letters to your wife in a week, right?
My little chaos,
I’ve been busy or at least trying to be. Fuck, I miss you, baby. I’m sitting in your room again, enjoying how it still smells like you. I’m building something for you, a surprise (not the kind that makes you moan, though that is tempting).
So, last night . . . I might have done something unholy. I saw that little red lingerie you said Izzy made you get, and fuck, baby, it smelled like you. I don’t know what’s worse, how much I miss you or how much I want you. I couldn’t help it, imagining you wearing it again, how your skin pops in that color, your curly hair dancing across your back, how your nipples would beg for my mouth . . . the list goes on. But the moment these thoughts came in, I had to show you how much thinking of you ruins me. You’ll see the proof on your lingerie. My only regret is I didn’t put it inside you.
I’m counting down the days until I can breathe you in again. Come back soon, little chaos. Life makes absolutely no sense when I’m not breathing the air you breathe.
I pause, reading it again as I tap the pen on my bottom lip, wondering if I should add some more. Maybe I can tell her how I’d spent last night tossing and turning in her bed, replaying her laughter in my head like a haunting melody? Or I could tell her about the novel I started yesterday, and how the side character reminds me of Cam.
After a long debate, I decide to end it as it is. I stamp the family crest on it and just as I look through the letter one more time, my phone buzzes on the nightstand.
“Hey you,” her voice hits my ears as the call connects.
We’ve spoken six times today and it still feels like I haven’t heard her voice all day.
“Little chaos,” I answer, hoping she can hear just how much I miss her.
“So,” she begins, and for some reason, I don’t like where this is heading. “Something came up.”
“What is it?” I ask, my entire body tensing.
“Carmela and I might be here for another three days? There’s a show the children are putting on and they asked us to stay.”
My heart sinks like a boulder because I know what that means.
“I see,” I reply as calmly as I can, my hopes of seeing her tomorrow crashing into a million pieces.
“You’re mad,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m not,” I say. I’m not mad. Sad? Disappointed? Frustrated? Horny? All yes, but not mad.
“Stay as long as you need, baby. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
She laughs softly, and it sends a sting through my chest. I have to hear her giggles through the damn phone for another three fucking days! Why would Carmela make her agree to staying there in the first place?
Okay, maybe I am a little mad.
“I love you, talk soon,” she says over the phone, making me smile. I can never get enough of hearing her tell me she loves me.
“I love you,” I reply, letting her hang up.
I sit still for a moment, staring at her name on my screen. The room feels too quiet, too cold without her, and I now have to wait again, not just for 24 more hours but for another 72 hours.
I sigh as I look out of the window, watching the dark sky. It’s ridiculous, but the thought of her being so far away makes me want to fall apart. And before I know it, tears slip down my face. Damn her. Damn me. Damn her again for being the absolute love of my existence.
God I miss her! And now I’m shedding tears just thinking of how much I miss her. This is ridiculously pathetic, and the worst part, I don’t care. I laugh at how silly this is, cleaning the tear that rolled down my cheek.
“Penny for the joke?” a soft, familiar voice asks, breaking the silence.
I freeze, too afraid that I’ve finally gone mad, imagining and hearing things. I turn slowly, and there she is, standing in the doorway with her suitcase by her feet and a wide, teasing smile on her face.
“Baby?” I call, my voice cracking.
She nods as her smile grows. “Surprise.”
I’m on my feet before I can process it, crossing the room in long strides to get to her.
“You’re here,” I murmur, pulling her into my arms and lifting her effortlessly.
Jesus fucking Christ, this is life! This woman right here is the reason I live. She squeals as I twirl her around, her laughter filling the room. My favorite song.
“How are you here? You said . . .”
“I know,” she cuts in. “There was nothing being put on and I couldn’t wait to see you, so I dragged Carmela back home.”
“And you thought giving me a heart attack was the best way to announce your entrance?” I ask, kissing her nose.
“Yes, I thought so.” She laughs, squinting her eyes as she studies me. She cups my face, brushing her thumbs over my cheeks. “Hold on, were you crying?”
“No,” I lie, knowing she’ll see right through me anyways.
I’m a total wreck.
“I don’t mind a crying husband,” she giggles, wiping my wet eyes.
“Then yes, yes I was crying,” I laugh, kissing her hard and fast, satisfying my addiction and pleasing my yearning..
Vida
God, I missed him.
His lips ar e rough and desperate, like he is trying to devour me whole and I couldn’t care less. I want him too.
“Ciro,” I gasp between kisses, my hands tangling in his hair as he pushes his body against mine.
I’ve daydreamed about this since the minute I left, but not even my dreams were this good.
“Hush, baby,” he growls, biting my bottom lip just enough to make me moan. “You’ve been gone for seven days. Seven fucking days, little chaos. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”
Does he know what he’s done to me?
He doesn’t wait for an answer. His hands grab my thighs and lift me up. My legs wrap around him as he carries me, his mouth still devouring mine as he walks us straight to the bed.
The second my back hits the mattress, he pulls away and stares at me, his blue eyes burning as they roam over my body.
“Look at you,” he says, shaking his head like he can’t believe I’m real. “Look at how beautifully sculpted you are, Vida. Absolutely breathtaking.”
He kisses my neck, making his way up to that sweet spot behind my ear before he sucks on my earlobe. “Look at you looking like . . .”
“Like what?” I tease breathlessly, but my voice cracks as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his butterfly tattoo on his chest before the rest begin to show.
“Like the woman I’ve been dying to fuck for a week,” he says with a smirk.
My heart races and my core aches as I watch him reveal every inch of himself to me.
“Do you know what it’s like to go to bed every night hard as a fucking rock, just thinking about you?”
I swallow hard, heat spreading down my neck as he bites into my skin.
“I . . .” I breathe, arching my back off the bed and pushing my chest towards him.
His hands move under my shirt, making him groan as he pulls it over my head.
“So fucking perfect,” he murmurs as his mouth takes in one nipples while his hand kneads my other breast. “I missed tasting you, little chaos.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, moaning as his tongue flicks over me, my hands pulling his hair to keep him close, afraid I might die if he moves even an inch away.
“Ciro, please . . .”
“Please?” He smirks against my skin, moving lower and planting kisses down my stomach. “Words, baby, use them.”
“I missed you too,” I admit, shivering and letting him pull my panties off and spread my legs apart. I’m already drenched, aching for him, he knows that. He knows exactly what to do and say to make me succumb to him.
“So wet for me,” he says as a satisfied groan escapes his lips.
“This is how much you missed me? Your pretty pussy is just begging for my mouth, isn’t it?” he asks, his eyes drinking me in.
I moan and nod, watching as his grin turns wicked.
“Good girl.”
Before I can process another thought, his tongue pushes itself into my wetness with a long, slow stroke that makes my thighs tremble. I cry out, arching my back off the bed as he sucks and teases me, his hands holding my hips down so I can’t escape. Not that I plan to.
“Fuck, you taste even better than I remembered,” he growls, the vibration of his voice making me moan. “Seven days, baby, and all I could think about was this sweet fucking pussy.”
I’m falling apart under him, my fingers clawing at the sheets as he eats me out, his mouth relentless. “Ciro . . . oh my God!”
My moaned words don’t stop him. Instead, his tongue circles my clit, and his mouth latches onto me as he sucks me dry.
“Come and then I’ll fuck you. But you’re going to have to beg for it.”
I hate him!
“Please,” I gasp, meeting his gaze.
I missed him, I dreamt of him, I touched myself to him, I wanted him, I freaking needed him and fuck, I will beg him to give me what I own; him!
“Please, I want you, Ciro. I need you,” I moan, making him smile as he leans down again, his tongue flicking over me until my vision becomes blurry.
“Oh fuck! Yes, yes please!” I cry, grabbing onto his hair as he fucks me with his tongue.
“Please, please! I need you,” I beg, begging him to give me himself, yet still begging for him not to stop.
“I’m . . .” I stop as electricity spreads across my entire body, shattering me into a million pieces.
“You’re not done yet,” he says roughly, his cock pressing against my entrance. “I’m going to fill you so deep, little chaos, you’ll feel me for days.”
His promise hangs in the air as he spreads my legs wider, settling between them.
I gasp as he pushes in, stretching and filling me so perfectly I can’t breathe.
“Fuck!” I curse, throwing my head back.
“Look at me,” he demands. “I want you to look at me while I fill you up with our kids, baby.”
This man will kill me, and I don’t have one single care in the world.
I open my eyes, my heart pounding as he starts to move. His thrusts are slow and deep at first, hitting the spot that always makes me cry out.
“Fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead on mine. “You’re so tight, so perfect, like you were made for me.”
“Faster,” I beg, my nails digging into his back. “Please, Ciro.”
I need him to take me like he missed me, to fill me so much I won’t ever forget tonight.
As if he reads my mind, his pace quickens and his thrusts become rough and desperate.
“Shit!” I choke out, my body threatening to shatter as another orgasm builds inside me, the pleasure overwhelming my brain cells so much that I swear I can see stars.
His mouth captures mine as he pounds into me. Thrusting in so deep and hard, the sound of our skin slapping fills the whole room. The bed moves to our rhythm and Ciro keeps going, keeps thrusting, his blue eyes stuck on mine with a sinister smile on his lips.
I can’t feel my legs anymore as they now hang on his shoulders, his pounding making me wetter, making his movements electrifying, to say the least. I’m going mad, barely able to keep my eyes open anymore. I’m going to cum, and no matter how hard I try to hold back, I know I can’t anymore.
“Come on my cock, baby, do it now!” he orders, his eyes fixed on the parts of our bodies that clap against each other. He looks at his cock pushing inside me like he is witnessing art being made.
“Ciro please,” I cry out, my body trembling as I come undone shamelessly.
“Fuck! What a fucking sight,” he groans as I watch him come, filling me up just like he’d promised.
“I don’t want to pull out of you,” he whispers as he falls on top of me, his cock still hard inside me, and I can’t lie, I don’t want that either.
We stay here like this, his weight pressing down on me in that way I love as our hearts begin to pound in sync.
He finally rolls over, staring at me with a lazy smile spread across his face.
“Move in with me,” he says in a soft tone, his eyes closing.
“What?” I giggle, wondering if he’s fallen asleep and is now sleep-talking.
“Move in with me, little chaos,” he says, brushing his knuckles over my cheek. “Let it just be you and I, so you can fill the house with your scent and if you travel again, I can smell you everywhere.”
“Baby,” I whisper, cupping his face.
“Say yes,” he whispers before kissing my palm.
“Yes, I’ll move in with you,” I reply, wondering why he even had to ask.
I would go anywhere in this world with him, walk through hell if that’s where he’d be. Doesn’t he know that?
His smile turns into one of victory as he kisses me again, and for the first time in seven days, I feel completely and utterly at home.