18. Luna
18
LUNA
I woke up early the next morning with Massimo still in bed with me.
I turned to take him in fully, only to pull up short when I found he was wide awake, his green eyes cleared from sleep.
“Good morning,” I said, suddenly feeling shy. My eyes moved down my body. I was naked. So was Massimo.
He cupped my cheek and waited for me to look back at him before he said, “Good morning.” His voice was gruff and wholly addicting.
I could listen to the sound of his voice for the rest of my life.
I blinked.
“What?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
The look he shot me told me he didn’t believe me. But thankfully, he didn’t question me further about it. Instead, he moved in close and kissed me sweetly before the movements turned playful, and he pulled away only to come right back and give me several short pecks. I smiled against his lips.
“You’re still here,” I said when he pulled away.
“Were you expecting me to be gone by now? Are you trying to get rid of me?”
My smile widened, and I shook my head. “I like it when you’re home.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment as if trying to process my words fully. I worried I might have said the wrong thing, but then his eyes went soft. “I like having you here. Gives me a reason to come home at night.”
That was possibly the sweetest thing he had ever said to me.
It was possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.
“Thank you,” I said, meaning it.
He shifted in the blanket until he was lying on top of me. I spread my legs to fit him, gasping slightly when I felt his erection pressed up against my center.
“You’re welcome,” he answered. It took me a moment to realize what he was saying. I didn’t even care about the conversation anymore.
“Won’t you…” I began, unsure of how to ask for what I needed.
Make love or fuck ?
What was the appropriate term? Just because I was already halfway in love with him didn’t mean it was the case for him. But to ask him to fuck me sounded too crude for this morning. Not this morning when I was feeling vulnerable and soft and needed more from him than I was willing to say.
But he must have known what I wanted because I felt his hand move down between our bodies. “Let me get you ready first.”
I shook my head, trying to move my hips up. “I’m already ready.”
He shot me a look. “Who’s in charge?”
I made a slight, noncommittal sound in the back of my throat. “You are.”
He cupped me in his large hand, moving it roughly over my slit and making wetness gush out of me. I was sure he could feel that on his palm. I shifted my hips, wanting more of him. He pushed two fingers inside me, stretching me out in the best way possible.
“Please, Massimo,” I begged as he fucked me with them. His other hand was used to hold his weight next to my head as he doubled his efforts. A cry escaped my lips when his touch turned almost punishing.
“That’s right,” he said. “I’m in charge. And look how much you like it. Look at how wet your pussy got from this.”
He pulled out, leaving me feeling empty just as his thumb found my clit and he pressed down on it.
I jerked my legs, but he was in the way, leaving me almost immobile.
“You’re going to be my good girl, aren’t you?”
The thumb circled around the bundle of nerves, and I nodded my head.
“You’ll be my good little whore?” he rumbled in my ear, his voice gruff. He sounded almost… angry, even if I knew that wasn’t the case.
“Fuck, yes ,” I said, the word sounding more like a prayer.
He pulled his hand away and grabbed his length. I didn’t need to see to know he was stroking himself roughly in his palm just before bringing the tip to my entrance.
He kept his eyes on me as he pushed inside, stopping when he was fully in, giving me some time to adjust. I clenched down on him, feeling liquid heat pooled between my thighs, and he gritted his teeth.
“Fuck,” was all he said before he was moving his hips at a brutal pace, fucking me. The whole time, he never looked away from me, his green eyes nearly dark with lust and an unnamed emotion that had my heart racing.
Was this making love or fucking?
He gathered my wrists in one hand and held them up above my head while his other hand palmed my breast, the touch warm and coarse from his rough palm, causing a zing to shoot off around my nipple.
His pace never lessened.
“Look at this,” he said, squeezing my breast roughly, painfully. “Look at how good you are as my whore. My wife .”
I nodded in agreement. I wanted to be everything for him. To him.
And how dangerous that was. I would have given him everything had he asked for.
The feeling of free-falling over the edge came to me at once. The heat I could feel building intensified with every hard stroke from him until it didn’t feel like a freefall anymore but a nosedive into the depths of the unknown.
I closed my eyes as I came just as Massimo pressed his lips against mine.
He kissed me roughly, passionately, punishingly.
He kissed me like he didn’t know what to do with me. I knew because I was feeling the same way.
I felt him expand inside me before he was shouting against my lips. Then warmth gushed out between us as he spilled his seed inside, permanently altering me.
I sat on the bed, completely naked, as I waited for Massimo to come back.
He had helped clean me up after he made me come several more times, and now, I felt weak, but in the best way possible.
I felt like I had just finished a marathon. My limbs were like jelly, and there was this lightness in my chest that seemed to be a familiar occurrence ever since I moved here to Las Vegas.
Massimo came back out from the walk-in closet then.
He paused in his steps, his eyes taking me in from head to toe and making me blush.
Without a word, he walked over and laid the clothes he had in his hand on the bed next to me. I looked down at it. A pink floral dress and nothing else.
I turned my eyes back to him. “What about underwear?”
“You won’t need to wear any today.”
I bit my lip. “No?”
His eyes twinkled as he shook his head. “No. I like easy access to you all day.”
“All day?” I asked, feeling excited. “You mean you’ll be here all day? With me?”
“Yup. What would you like to do today?”
There were just so many things I wanted to do with Massimo. “Can we just stay in?”
I selfishly didn’t want to share him with the world. His eyes softened as he nodded, grabbing the dress. He put it on me and pulled me up until I was standing in front of him. I tilted my head back to look at him.
That unreadable expression was back on his face. The effect it had on me was the same. My heart raced.
“Let’s go eat breakfast.”
“Are you going to cook?” I asked, unable to stop the look of surprise on my face.
He seemed amused. “You don’t think I can?”
I looked down at his hands. Capable hands at that. But cooking?
He tapped the tip of my nose. “I cooked for my siblings growing up when my dad went through one of his fits and—got rid of all the house staff.”
I blinked, unsure if I really heard that odd note in his voice when he said “got rid” of the house staff. Perhaps I did. I had heard rumors of the late Amadeo De Luca. There wasn’t anything good about the rumors, but then, Massimo’s reputation had far surpassed his father’s ruthlessness, and here I was, wanting to get as close to him as possible.
“You don’t really talk about your parents or your childhood often, do you?” I asked.
“There’s not much to say,” he answered carefully.
Now it was my turn to shoot him the same look he shot me. “I wouldn’t say not much. I’m sure both of those things had impacted you and made you the man you are today.”
He grabbed my hand and led me out of the bedroom. “And what man is that?”
“A kind one,” I said softly.
He stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to me. In this position, we were almost at eye level. “There’s that word again. Kind. You really think I’m kind?”
“Maybe not kind to other people,” I said quietly. And I knew that to be true. I wasn’t na?ve enough to believe my husband didn’t more than earn that reputation of his as the King of Las Vegas. “But you’re kind to me. No one has ever been kind to me like you before.”
Something like pain and anger moved through his eyes. He wrapped his arms around my waist and twisted me around until I was carried up in his arms. I clung to him. “It kills me that you even say that,” he said gruffly.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize, baby. But you might want to hold me while I calm down and try to think of a good reason I shouldn’t fly straight to Chicago and kill Andre with my bare hands.”
I blinked. “You can’t kill Andre.”
“Can’t I?” he challenged.
“I know you can,” I said as he walked us down the stairs. I tightened my hold around him as he walked to the kitchen and placed me on top of the island, moving in between my legs. “You shouldn’t though.”
He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, there was still that dark shadow there that told me he was still thinking about killing Andre.
“Thank you,” I said.
He frowned. “For what?”
“For being angry on my behalf.”
He didn’t say anything for a beat. Then he leaned down and kissed me. “You’re welcome.”
He pulled away from me, leaving me feeling slightly cold. Goosebumps broke out across my skin as he took me in.
“Let me fix up some breakfast and feed you.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said. And he did just that.