Chapter 83
Caterina
My back arched as Harlow ran her tongue through my pussy lips.
When she said she was going to enjoy her dessert, she wasn’t lying.
Harlow was devouring me like she was deprived for years, and my pussy was the only thing giving her life.
Her fingers slid into me as my fingers twisted into the duvet.
It took everything in me not to grab a handful of her hair and fuck her face, but Harlow was taking her time, savoring me, pleasing me.
This was her third time between my thighs tonight, and honestly, I wasn’t complaining.
She belonged here.
Harlow moaned as my orgasm tumbled through me, but she kept eating. A woman could get used to this. Harlow was perfect in more ways than one, and I was a smug son of a bitch because she was mine.
She pulled away, wiping her chin of my arousal before crawling on top of me and straddling my hips.
I glanced at the clock, and it was 2:00 a.m. We started this at eight last night, but my girl was greedy and desperate, so I wouldn’t deny her of everything she wanted.
She had a sheen of sweat on her body and her brown hair was a mess.
We both needed a shower before sleeping.
Tomorrow I didn’t have any plans for us, so I would enjoy the night with the woman I loved.
Even with how tired she was, I pulled her to the shower.
I would let her sleep in and have a relaxing day in the morning.
Harlow leaned into me as I scrubbed her skin.
I loved our non-sexual forms of intimacy and the way she trusted me with simple things.
My lips trailed kisses on her shoulder as she arched into me.
“I am too sleepy to start another round,” she whispered sleepily. “Wake me up tomorrow with an orgasm.”
“Your wish is my command, mia vita.”
I carried Harlow to bed, and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
She turned in bed as I covered her, the duvet slipping from her naked chest down to her waist. Moonlight kissed her skin, curving around her body almost naturally like the blanket.
She was the most gorgeous woman I laid eyes on.
Only her beauty wasn’t always loud. Her beauty was felt, admired like a portrait.
Art made people feel something, and Harlow was art personified.
I admired her, like an artist admired their paintings.
Was this how Harlow felt looking at the beauty she created?
I brushed a strand of hair out of her face, gently caressing her soft flesh, but careful not to wake her.
Her lips parted slightly as she sighed and leaned into me.
I needed to crawl into bed and hold her to my chest, but I was restless.
She looked peaceful for once, and I didn’t want to disrupt her.
Life was close to being perfect.
I stepped to my bay window, looking at the night sky.
I wished my mother was here to see the life I had now, but I knew she was watching over us.
Savina Rossi would be in awe at the life I created and the woman I married.
She would love Harlow’s strength and determination and her heart.
I needed to make a plan and celebrate my mother’s life.
We tried to do it on her birthday each year, but then life got in the way.
It was time to celebrate the woman my mother was once more.
My phone vibrated, and if my men gave me bad news, I would shoot them—only it wasn’t any of my men.
MARIO:
I’m in town. Dinner at MY restaurant?
Mario Gallo was an old friend of mine from my college days.
We would go to the bars together and pick up women.
It was the only time I allowed myself freedom from this life.
I had the weight of Chicago on my shoulders, and while I accepted it, sometimes I needed a break.
He was on vacation in Australia for the last few months and must have just gotten back into town.
ME:
Well duh! I’m bringing my wife. No ifs ands or buts. :)
MARIO:
WIFE?! I missed a chapter.
ME:
I’ll explain more when I see you. Tonight? I have something beforehand, but I’ll be there no later than ten.
MARIO:
I’ll see you then.
When Mario and I knew each other, I had to tell people we were not a couple.
Most people thought we would get married, but at the time, marriage was something I never thought would happen.
Half of the state was shocked I married in the first place, but I didn’t have to explain myself.
Marrying Harlow might have been for different intentions in the beginning, but now she was mine.
I would give her the wedding of her dream and take her to Italy, or wherever she desired for our honeymoon.
She was my wife, my heart, my soul and I never planned on letting her go.
Mario and I would text here and there over the last year, but he was busy traveling and I had to deal with the family, but he knew I was always a call away.
Mario was like a brother to me, and my father would agree.
He loved him. Hell, if I asked my dad, he would give the family name to Mario so he could run the mafia and I could go about my life, but Mario didn’t want to deal with the politics or the darker side of the family business.