Chapter 29
LENI
I wake up with my body deliciously sore, still tingling from how thoroughly Romero claimed me last night. A lazy smile spreads across my lips as I stretch and roll onto my side, a low moan slipping past me with my yawn.
When my eyes finally blink open, they land on Romero sitting in a chair across from the bed, watching me. My cheeks flame instantly—part embarrassment, part something much more dangerous that makes my toes curl beneath the sheets. His gaze is so intense.
“Hey.” My voice comes out raspy, thick from sleep and… well, all the screaming I did last night. I clear my throat, suddenly hyperaware of my nakedness beneath the sheet and quickly wrap it around my body before shuffling into a sitting position against the headboard.
That’s when my eye catches on something small sitting on the nightstand next to me—a dark blue box that definitely wasn’t there last night. I frown at it suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“It’s a gift. A wedding gift, if you will.”
A wedding gift. My frown deepens. “But… I didn’t get you anything.” Still, my hand hovers, heart thudding with anticipation. Carefully, I pick up the box. What could be inside?
It’s so small, almost the size of a ring box—but it can’t be a ring. I already have two from him on my fingers.
“That’s alright. I enjoy buying you things. And if it makes you feel better, I only ordered it this morning. Open it.” His tone dips at the end, like he can’t wait to see my reaction.
I flick the lid open—and blink, my jaw dropping. A navel ring.
A small, brilliant-cut diamond nestled in delicate white gold shimmers under the soft morning light. It’s dainty, dazzling, impossibly luxurious compared to the simple pink stone I’ve been wearing—and clearly outrageously expensive.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, my throat thick as I study it. “Romero…” I look up, startled to find him suddenly right beside the bed. When did he get up from the chair?
“Can I put it on you?” he asks, his voice a deep rumble that zips down my spine and settles hot between my thighs, leaving me throbbing all over again.
I gulp, squeezing my legs together. “I don’t know… it looks expensive, and–”
Before I can finish protesting, he’s plucking the box from my nerveless fingers and gently coaxing me to lie back down. The blanket slips away from my body, and cool air kisses my skin, making my nipples pucker instantly. Oh God.
His pupils blow wide as his gaze lingers on my breasts, tongue darting out to lick his lips. A low curse escapes him, but he forces his attention lower, to my belly.
He touches the old stone—just a light brush—but my stomach muscles contract violently and I suck in a breath.
His movements are clinical and practiced, nothing lustful despite the heat in his eyes, yet I feel completely bare and vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that I’m naked beneath him.
This feels more intimate than everything we did last night, and I can’t explain why or how that’s even possible.
Slowly, he unscrews the barbell at the top of my piercing, hands careful like he’s handling glass. But the skin healed long ago, so I don’t feel any pain as he removes it. Just a pleasant tug that sends unexpected tingles racing through me, my toes curling into the sheets.
Then he pauses, his gaze fixed on the bare spot with an expression I can’t read. And without warning, he leans in and presses a soft kiss right on my navel, his warm breath tickling me and kicking my pulse into a frantic stutter. Fuck.
The back of his fingers brushes over my stomach and it heaves sharply, earning me a quick glance. He studies my face, reading the building desire there, and then—almost experimentally—presses his thumb into my navel hole, those hot, too-perceptive green eyes latched to me.
My eyes slam shut as I gasp, my head digging back into the mattress while a violent shiver rips through me.
“Hmm,” he rumbles, making me peek through my lashes.
But he’s already lifting the diamond ring from its velvet nest. I don’t dare breathe, holding still as possible as he fits the new jewelry into my navel.
Not because of any potential pain, but because of the pleasure.
So much pleasure. My toes curl so hard the joints creak audibly.
The new ring clicks into place like it was always meant to be there. “There.” His voice carries something I can’t name until I meet his eyes. Possessiveness. “Now you’re truly mine.”
I swallow hard around the lump in my throat, the air feeling so heavy, charged. The ownership burning in his gaze sends hot licks of fire straight through me. He’s looking at me like he has no intention of letting me go at the end of our year. Which is crazy. I must be projecting.
But the slight weight of the diamond pulls my gaze down, and my breath catches as I take in my transformed belly. The jewelry is beautiful, yes, but it’s more than that.
I feel different. Marked. His. My body doesn’t even feel like mine anymore; it only knows how to react to him now. And somewhere in the haze, I realize my life, my body, my being will forever be split in two, regardless of what happens between us.
Before Romero.
After Romero.
It should terrify me. I am terrified.
And yet a wild, dizzying liberation whirls through me, making the room spin as I sit up, hyper-aware of the ring shifting against my belly. He’s on his knees next to the bed, watching me with eyes that seem lit from within.
Without thinking, my fingers slip into his hair and tug him up—hard. He comes willingly, and when he sits beside me, I scoot closer to press my lips to his. He remains still, watching.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his mouth.
For what exactly, I don’t even remember. I just know my heart is bubbling over with too much—affection, lust, gratitude… love. That last one is as dangerous as it’s sweet.
I want to give him something back. Make him feel the way he makes me feel.
And suddenly I know exactly what I want to do.
“Can I suck you?” The words tumble out in a rush, uncontrollable and desperate.
His brows shoot up towards his hairline, genuine shock flickering across his features. “What?”
I’d laugh if my heart wasn't racing so hard and my lungs weren’t struggling to keep up.
Instead, I tug him deeper onto the bed, shifting to make space for him.
He follows, and my gaze skims over the hard expanse of his golden chest, the ink trailing his arm, before dropping to the unmistakable bulge straining against his black silk pajama pants.
I did that to him.
I place my palm flat on his chest, right on where his heart is thudding even harder and faster than mine. Heat coils in my stomach, my core clenching when our gazes collide. “Lie back,” I whisper, breathy but insistent.
“What are you doing, bellezza?” His voice is thick, though he lets me push him onto his back. He knows what I’m doing, or what I’m trying to do. Still, I try to explain. My lips part, but the words stick to my tongue.
God, I’m so nervous.
I’ve never done anything like this before. What if I screw it up? What if I disappoint him?
My throat tightens, fingers trembling just a little as I trail them lower down his heated skin. The ridges of his abs flex harder beneath my touch, and I can’t hold back a sharp breath. That… that’s actually so fucking hot.
“I want to taste you,” I finally manage.
When my hands reach the waistband of his pajamas, I glance up for permission. He nods jerkily, chest heaving with his breath, eyes so dark now they look almost black.
I tug at the fabric, and he lifts his hips to help me. His cock springs free—thick, hard, angry, the tip already leaking precum. A stunned inhale catches in my throat as I stare.
I had that inside me last night. How did I even…?
“Still want to taste me?” There’s a thread of dark warning in his voice, but it only fuels the ache inside me. I lick my lips hungrily as I nod, unable to drag my gaze away.
“It’s so… pretty.” God, what a pathetic word, but it’s the only one that comes out. The thick, veiny length is this flushed, tempting pink that makes my mouth water. When I drag a finger along it, I jolt. So hot. His cock twitches, more precum beading at the tip as he lets out a choked groan.
Wow… I did that. Just a single touch and he’s—
“Wrap your hands around me,” he commands, but I ignore the instruction.
Instead, I lean down, eyes going heavy-lidded as the thick scent of musk, salt, and something darker curls around me. My thighs clench instinctively. Pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the tip, I let my lips part slowly, testing.
His breath hisses sharply through his teeth. Then his hand is in my hair, strong fingers tangling, holding me in place. Anchoring me.
I wrap my lips around him, teasing the wide mushroom head with my tongue and grinning inside at the salty burst that floods my mouth. He tastes like heat and power—power so heady it makes my head spin. I want more.
He curses low. “Fuck, Leni—bellezza, take me deeper into your hot mouth.”
This time I do as he says. Or try. He’s so big my jaw aches as my mouth struggles to accommodate him. It’s messy—saliva mixed with precum dribbling down my chin—but I don’t care. I’m determined to take him. To drive him as crazy as he drives me.
His cock twitches against my tongue when I take him deeper on an inhale, and his fingers dig so painfully into my scalp tears spring to my eyes. It hurts, but fuck, I love it. Inch by inch, I sink lower, my cheeks hollowing as I work him in.
I flick my gaze up through my lashes, greedy for his reaction—and oh, it’s worth it.
His head is tipped back, eyes heavy-lidded, his face twisted up in raw pleasure.
The sight makes a shameless moan vibrate around his cock, and the second it does, he jerks beneath me like the sound just shocked him. I did that to him.
“You’re doing so good, amore,” he groans, hand tightening impossibly in my hair. “So fucking good—” His words break off with a strangled yell when I rub my tongue experimentally against a sensitive spot just under the tip.
My belly knots, wetness gushing between my thighs unbidden. Who knew driving him crazy would unravel me too? I rub my thighs together, moaning as the pressure on my clit sends sparks through my body, and I start sucking him harder, sliding up and down his cock with messy urgency.
He’s still talking, but it’s all devolved into rapid-fire Italian now. I have no idea what the hell he’s saying, but God, the sound of it drenches me in heat, making me desperate to push him further.
One hand grips his thigh, the other slipping down to his balls, my fingertips grazing the soft flesh while I try to swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth before it spills down my chin. But as I do, his cock slides deeper into my throat, making me choke—and he goes wild.
Suddenly he yanks my head away with such force a wet pop echoes in the air when I let go, my jaw aching with the loss.
Then he’s on me, shoving me down into the mattress, hovering over me with eyes gone feral.
He’s pumping himself furiously, lips moving, his voice so wrecked it barely sounds like him. And still only Italian.
“In English, baby,” I moan, my heart pounding out of my chest. “I want to hear what you’re saying.”
His eyes flash—I think that means he understands me, but I can’t be sure.
He just kneels there on the bed, looming like a storm about to break, fist wrapped tight around the thick base of his cock, slick and gleaming from my mouth.
His chest heaves like he’d sprinted miles, but that unyielding gaze stays locked on me.
Then he gives me what I want. “Look at you,” he growls. “Fucking soaked from sucking me off. First time sucking a cock, and you took it like you’ve been mine forever.”
My legs part instinctively, and his gaze drops.
“That’s it. Show me that pretty pink flesh that belongs to me now.
” He pumps his cock harder, wrist twisting at the crown, precum glistening as it leaks.
“You belonged to me the moment you signed that contract and sealed your fate. And I fully claimed you last night.” His thumb smears through the wetness at the tip, and the hiss that rips from his throat makes me clench.
“You feel how wet you are, amore?” he rasps. “Bet your pussy’s aching for it. All that sweet mouth and still greedy between your legs.”
His last sentence barely makes sense, but I still moan, my back arching as I raise my palm to cup my breast. It feels like my entire body is on fire. “Please…”
“Please what?” His groan is choked, his knuckles going white around his cock. “You want me to come all over you? Mark you up like the filthy little wife you are?”
I nod so fast my hair whips. I didn't even know I wanted that, but now it’s all I can think about, every inch of me screaming for it.
“Say it. Use your words, bellezza.”
“I want it,” I gasp out, thighs rubbing together, fingers tugging hard at my nipple. “Want you to come on me. Mark me. Claim me.” The words pour out unfiltered, rising from a well deep inside me I never knew was there.
His jaw clenches. “Fucking hell, Leni.” His strokes turn frantic, his breathing breaking apart. “I want you to rub that pretty clit while I come for you. Let me see that needy little cunt work while I cover you in my cum.”
My hand dives between my thighs as if his words pull the strings, my fingers already circling my swollen bud. Obedience feels natural—inevitable. I’m drenched, throbbing, so close to the edge I can barely breathe.
His eyes are absolutely wild, locked on me like I’m his altar and this is his favorite mode of worship. “You’re mine,” he snarls. “My wife. My diamond in your belly. My cum on your skin. And that soaked little pussy begging for me—mine.”
“Please,” I whimper, panting as I rub my clit. My orgasm is right there, coiled tight in my belly, ready to snap. “Please—Romero—”
And then he snaps first. A guttural groan rips from his chest, his hand jerking fast and rough until hot ropes of his release splatter all over me, painting my belly, my chest, my breasts.
The first hot splash makes me cry out, my back arching high off the bed as my own orgasm barrels through me. I scream his name, thighs quaking and hands clawing at the sheets, lost completely to the pleasure.
When I finally blink through the haze, he’s staring down between my thighs, looking wrecked, powerful, possessed. His cock still twitches in his fist, chest heaving.
“Fuck,” he whispers, reverent, utterly struck. “Look at you.”