Chapter 31 Giuliana #2
His hands come up to still mine. “We don’t have to do anything,” he tells me, his dark eyes searching mine. “You’re eight months pregnant. You’ve been on your feet all day—”
“Luca,” I interrupt, looking up at him impatiently. “I want this. I want you. I want to make love to my husband on our wedding night and actually mean it this time.”
His expression shifts, heat mixing with tenderness in a way that makes my breath catch.
“Then let me take care of you,” he murmurs, his hands moving to the zipper of my dress. “Let me show you how much I love you.”
He undresses me slowly, each piece of clothing that falls away is accompanied by kisses—my shoulders, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts that pregnancy has made fuller and more sensitive.
When I’m finally naked before him, his hands come to rest on my belly. Our baby kicks against his palm, and Luca’s face transforms with wonder.
“They know it’s me,” he says, his voice full of awe.
“They always know when you’re near,” I tell him. “They get more active whenever you’re around.”
He drops to his knees in front of me, pressing kisses to my rounded stomach. “Hey, little one,” he murmurs against my skin. “Daddy loves you so much. And I love your mama even more.”
I thread my fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the tenderness of this moment. This is so different from our first wedding night, when fear and uncertainty colored everything.
Luca stands, shedding his own clothes, then he’s guiding me to the bed, arranging pillows behind me so I’m comfortable.
“Tell me if anything hurts,” he says, settling beside me. “Tell me if you need to stop.”
“I will,” I promise. “But Luca? Stop being so careful. I’m not going to break.” I’m as big as a whale, there’s no way nothing will happen to me.
He smiles, slow and heated. “No, you’re not. You’re the strongest person I know.”
And then he’s kissing me—deep, thorough kisses that make me forget about being pregnant and tired and anything except the way he makes me feel. His hands map my body like he’s memorizing every curve, every change that pregnancy has brought.
When his mouth moves down to my breasts, lavishing attention on nipples that are almost painfully sensitive, I arch into him with a gasp.
“Too much?” he asks immediately, pulling his head back, his dark eyebrows furrowing.
“No!” I nearly shout, arching more into him and offering my breasts to him. “No, god no. More. Please, more.”
He smiles against my nipple before he takes one into his mouth, sucking on it lightly before letting his teeth scrape over it. I moan loudly, my hips bucking upward against his.
He moves his mouth to my other breast and repeats his actions, causing another deep moan from me.
“Please, Luca. Please.”
He smiles again and his mouth moves down to my stomach, placing little butterfly kisses along my skin.
His mouth moves further down until it’s over my heat and I gasp as his tongue enters me, over and over again.
His tongue runs over my clit, and I gasp loudly again before my body shakes and his name is a prayer on my lips.
Luca’s tongue works faster, delving deeper into my core, and my hands tangle in his hair, my hips bucking again. His own hands move to hold my hips down before he removes his mouth. But it’s clear he isn’t finished with me yet.
“More,” I nearly sob, trying to thrust my hips up, desperate for contact.
But he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to come just yet,” he tells me huskily. “I want you to feel every little thing I do to you.”
He moves back up my body and his hand trails down my thigh. God, I’m so wet and ready.
“Gigi,” he breathes. “You’re so—”
“Pregnant and horny,” I finish for him. “It’s a thing. Hormones. Don’t judge me.”
He laughs, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Not judging. Definitely not judging.”
He slides two fingers into me slowly and I clench my walls around him almost immediately.
He pumps his fingers in and out, relentlessly, going faster, and he curls them upward, making me squirm with my breath quickening to a pant.
A thin layer of sweat covers my body as his lips claim mine again, his fingers still moving inside me.
His tongue pushes my lips apart and plunges into my mouth. He slides another finger inside me and hisses, “Fuck, you’re so tight around my hand.”
I moan against his mouth, my hips bucking wildly against his.
Luca smiles against my lips, his tongue stroking mine.
I can feel a knot form in my stomach, and I know I’m close to my release.
Luca can feel it too because his fingers move faster as he slips a third one into me.
The stretch is magnificent and that alone makes me come so hard I see stars.
“Luca!” I cry out, my whole body jerking.
“I love watching you fall apart for me,” Luca says, placing a kiss at the corner of my mouth as he removes his fingers from me. I nearly whine at the loss of contact. “I’ll never get tired of it."
“Then you’re going to love the next seven decades,” I manage breathlessly, groaning slightly as I watch him lick his gleaming fingers. That knot is building again in my stomach.
He positions himself between my legs, careful not to put weight on my belly, and I can feel him hard and ready against me.
“Are you sure?” he asks one more time.
Instead of answering, I reach down and guide him inside me, watching his face transform as he slides home. Pleasure shoots down my spine and pools at my core. My hips lift and meet with his as he pushes himself until he’s basically seated inside me.
“Please, Luca,” I whimper. “Move.”
We move together slowly, finding a rhythm that works with my pregnant body. It’s different from before—less frantic, more tender—but somehow even more intimate. Every thrust is deliberate, intentional, a promise of love instead of possession.
“I love you,” Luca says against my neck, his hips rocking steadily. “God, Gigi, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I gasp, wrapping my legs around him as best I can. “I love you, I love you.”
The pleasure builds slowly, a wave that grows higher and higher until I’m trembling on the edge.
Luca quickens his pace, his hips slapping against mine.
His whole body shakes with the effort but his hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together above my head.
When I come apart again, he follows me over the edge, crying out my name.
Luca collapses against me and we lie tangled together, his hand resting on my belly where our baby sleeps. I trace patterns on his damp chest, mapping the scars he’s collected over the years.
“What are you thinking?” Luca asks quietly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his high.
“I’m thinking about how far we’ve come,” I tell him honestly. “From that first night, when I was terrified of you, to now. It’s been a journey.”
“The worst beginning,” he agrees. “But maybe the best ending.”
“Not an ending.” I tilt my face up to kiss him, smiling against his lips. “A new beginning. The right kind this time.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my hip. “Do you ever regret it? Staying? Choosing this life?”
“No.” The answer is immediate. I can’t imagine my life without him. “I won’t lie and say I don’t sometimes think about what my life could have been if we’d met differently,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret loving you.”
Luca makes a pleased noise from my hands in his hair. “Even knowing what I’ve done? Who I was?”
I shake my head. “You’re not that person anymore.
” I place my hand over his heart. “The man who burned down my clinic wouldn’t offer to build me a new one.
The man who forced me into marriage wouldn’t have given me the choice to leave.
The man who cared only about revenge wouldn’t be lying here talking about feelings. ”
His lips quirk. “I’m still not great at the feelings part.”
“You’re better than you think.” I snuggle closer, fitting myself against him. “Besides, you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep trying, like you have been. Choosing love over anger.”
“I can do that,” he says, his chest rumbling. “For you and our baby, I can do anything.” He nudges my hand again. “And keep doing that, too.”
I laugh but acquiesce, continuing to run my fingers through his silken strands.
We fall into comfortable silence, just breathing together, existing in this perfect moment. Outside, the sun has fully set, and the first stars are appearing in the darkening sky.
“Gigi?” Luca’s voice is hesitant. “Can I tell you something?”
“Always,” I tell him, feeling a little sleepy.
“When I first forced you into this marriage, I told myself I was doing it for Marco. For revenge. For justice.” He pauses, and from the tension suddenly all over his body, it’s clear he’s choosing his words carefully.
“But I think even then, some part of me knew. Some part of me looked at you and saw the possibility of something more.”
I’m suddenly wide awake. “What do you mean?”
He sighs. “I mean I could have taken your father and made him suffer directly for what he did. But I didn’t.” His hand tightens on my hip. “I took you instead. And I keep asking myself why. Why did I need you specifically? Why did your suffering satisfy something in me that his wouldn’t have?”
I’m quiet, letting him work through it.
“I think it’s because I saw myself in you,” he continues.
“Someone trapped by circumstances they didn’t choose, trying to survive in a world that was bigger and more dangerous than they understood.
” He pauses, wetting his lips. “And I wanted to see if you would break the way I did,” he admits, his voice low, “or if you’d find a way to stay whole despite everything. ”
“And?” I prompt.
“You didn’t just stay whole. You became stronger.
” His voice is full of wonder. “You faced down everything I threw at you and came out the other side more yourself than ever. You taught me that strength isn’t about how much damage you can absorb.
It’s about staying soft in a hard world.
About choosing love even when hate would be easier. ”
Tears are pricking my eyes again. This man is going to kill me by crying.
“I’m not saying I’m glad things happened the way they did. I’m not trying to justify what I did to you.” He tilts my face up so I’m looking at him. “But I am grateful that somehow, through all the darkness, we found each other. Really found each other, beneath all the bullshit and fear.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m grateful too.”
He kisses me again, soft and sweet, and I taste salt, whether from his tears or my tears it’s hard to tell.
“Come on,” he says eventually, helping me up. “Let’s get cleaned up and into actual pajamas before you fall asleep on me.”
“I’m not that tired,” I protest, even as a yawn escapes.
“Liar.” But he’s smiling as he helps me to the bathroom, as he runs a warm washcloth over my sensitive skin, as he dresses me in one of his old t-shirts, the front barely skimming my thighs from how it drapes around my belly.
We climb into bed properly this time, and I curl against his side with my head on his chest. Our baby kicks lazily, as if to remind us they’re still here.
“Luca?” I murmur, already half-asleep.
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you chose me too. Even if the beginning was all wrong, I’m glad it led us here.”
His arms tighten around me. “Me too, cara. Me too.”
I drift off to sleep in the arms of the man I once feared, now love beyond measure. Tomorrow we’ll have breakfast together, laugh about the wedding, and continue building the life we’ve chosen.
But tonight, I’m just Gigi, lying next to Luca, feeling our baby move between us.
From hatred to love. From captivity to choice. From revenge to redemption.
The journey brought us here, to this moment of perfect peace.
And I wouldn’t change a single step of it.