Chapter Seven
Gualtiero
Istep into our bathroom, my bare feet meeting the warmth of the tiles. Floor heating is essential in a climate like this.
Alaska really isn’t my kind of place. I still can’t quite believe I ended up here.
Ella loves it, though. She thrives among the mountains. And while I can appreciate them, I miss the Mediterranean sun and beaches. Winters in Sicily are mild, with a few rainy days at most. This bitter cold is something else entirely.
I’ve been searching for another private island where we can settle once our son is born. There are plenty for sale, and I have my sights set on the Caribbean, but none have felt right so far.
Truth be told, she’d be happier with this place, anyway. It’s where we’ve been given our second chance to be together.
It holds sentimental value, and I don’t want anyone else living here.
This is ours.
If only it were somewhere warmer.
I move to the grand clawfoot bathtub set before the wide window framing the mountains. The view has its merits.
Ella often says it brings her peace, and as I take in the vast landscape, I understand why. The sheer scale of it quiets something inside you and makes you breathe deeper.
I turn on the antique-style faucets, watching the tub fill, then light the candles on the windowsill. Lavender and vanilla seep into the air.
Where is she?
I want her to myself.
Sharing her all day has been a test of patience, but her smile made it worth it. Our wedding plans have moved faster than I expected. With everything falling into place, pulling this off will be easy.
Soon, she’ll be my wife.
When the water reaches the right level, I strip and sink into the tub, letting the heat close around me. The bubbles are unnecessary, but this isn’t about me. After everything today, she needs to slow down.
I hear her in the bedroom. She’s taken her time saying goodnight to her red-haired firecracker of a friend who’s finally returned to their own cabin.
Rhia is organized chaos, and Lex seems to handle her well. Since living on the same property and being forced to spend time together, I’ve come to respect Alexander Dougal. He’s solid.
I can tell he still judges me sometimes. Hardly surprising. Men like me don’t make friends.
Ha, men like me…
I remind myself, again, that I’m no longer the Don.
Life without family obligations has been unsettling. Those responsibilities, former responsibilities, are ingrained in me. It’s all I’ve ever known.
Yet stepping away, even if somewhat forced, has been liberating. Not having to constantly look over your shoulder changes everything.
I’m relaxing.
It’s something I’ve rarely done, and then only in the sanctuary of my private island.
Now it’s becoming my new normal. All thanks to my angel.
She helps me navigate this unfamiliar ground.
We talk. A lot. That alone is new.
Opening up to a woman would never have happened before Ella. With her, I crave it. I want her to know all of me. Just as much as I need to know all of her.
I’ve only ever had that kind of honesty with Mateo. Not being able to talk to him sits heavy in my chest. He’s carrying my responsibilities while I live a quiet life with the woman I love.
Earlier this month, I sent him a card to my memorial service so it wouldn’t stand out, signing it with a pseudonym only he would recognize. Just enough to let him know I’m still alive.
I couldn’t bear the thought of him grieving me. I just couldn’t do that to him.
I truly hope he remembers our last conversation and at least considers my words. But he’s loyal to a fault, bound to our family and the legacy we inherited.
My thoughts snap back to the present when Ella walks into the bathroom, having shed her clothes somewhere along the way.
The air leaves my lungs.
My gaze travels hungrily from her face down her body and comes to rest on her little bump. Immense pride swells up deep inside me.
She’s growing round with my child. Just as I imagined when I first met her.
I will be a father. I can’t wait.
She steps closer, and I reach for her. She takes my hand and carefully steps into the tub, sinking into the water. The bubbles cling to her skin before dissolving with soft crackles.
A soft moan slips from her lips as the heat wraps around her.
“Oh my god, this is nice. You’re so thoughtful. Thank you,” she sighs.
I pull her back against me, her spine fitting perfectly to my chest, and wrap my arms around her.
“Finally, I’ve got you to myself,” I murmur, nuzzling her neck, brushing my lips over her skin. “I hate sharing you.”
She chuckles, then turns her head, her ocean-blue eyes bright. She brushes kisses along my jaw and up to my lips.
I raise my hands to hold her face, deepening our connection until she turns fully, straddling my lap. My mouth finds hers again as I thread my hands through her soft hair.
Ella’s fingers trail down my chest and over my abs. As always, my skin reacts instantly, tightening beneath her touch, sparks chasing in their wake.
My cock pulses, especially when she starts to move on my lap. I can’t wait any longer. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside her.
You’d think my need for her would be satisfied by now. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had her since the doctor gave me the all-clear after being shot. But my hunger for Ella only grows.
I shift, guiding myself to her entrance. Heat burns in her eyes as she lifts her hips, and I slide into her.
“Fuck, angel,” I groan.
She’s always so wet for me, in or out of the bath.
I pull her closer, capturing her mouth in a kiss that’s raw and hungry. I don’t hold back. I don’t want to.
My tongue finds hers as I push deeper, but it’s never enough. I need more of her. Even buried inside her, it still isn’t close enough.
“Ride me, angel,” I order.
She obeys, rocking her hips, and pleasure surges through me.
“Fuuuccckkk. You feel incredible,” I groan, gripping her ass tighter. “Ride me. Hard.”
Her breasts move with every motion, drawing my attention. They were beautiful before. Now I can’t look away.
I lower my head, burying my face against her, tasting and teasing.
Pleasure builds fast, climbing my spine. I shut my eyes for a second, trying to contain it.
Every time. She does this to me every single time.
Sex with her is never just sex. It’s something deeper. Something that pulls us closer, no matter how close we already are.
When I open my eyes, I hold her gaze, watching as pleasure takes over her expression.
God, I love this woman.
Water spills over the edge of the tub, but neither of us cares. Nothing matters except this.
I take control, setting the pace, driving into her.
Her hands come to my face, holding me, pulling me closer as our mouths meet again.
Her hunger matches mine, pushing me right to the edge.
“Now, angel. I need you to come,” I growl, losing control.
I come hard inside her.
It triggers her release. She throws her head back, moaning as she lets go. Writhing above me, she rides out her pleasure.
I watch her, taking in every second as her body softens.
“You’re perfect,” I tell her quietly. “And all mine.”