Chapter 31 #2
Susan comes closer, presenting us with a silver cake knife, its handle wrapped in a white satin ribbon. “Traditional first cut?” she prompts.
Alina reaches for the knife, and I move behind her, my chest against her back, my hand covering hers on the handle. She fits perfectly against me, her soft curves molding to my harder planes. I guide our joined hands toward the top tier, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my fingers.
“Together,” I murmur against her ear, enjoying the shiver that runs through her in response. My other arm wraps around her waist, holding her flush against me as we press the knife into the cake.
The gathered family applauds as we complete the cut, and Alina turns in my arms, her blue eyes shining with an emotion that makes my chest tighten again. Susan quickly finishes the slice, placing it on a small plate that she hands to us.
Instead of doing it simultaneously, I patiently wait as Alina breaks off a small piece, her fingers trembling slightly as she raises it to my lips. I capture her wrist before she can complete the gesture, holding her gaze as I guide her hand the rest of the way.
Her fingertips brush against my mouth as I take the bite, and I deliberately let my tongue slide against her skin, tasting the frosting and her. Her breath hitches, her pupils dilating with desire.
The cake is exquisite—vanilla and chocolate marbled together, the buttercream rich and not too sweet—but it’s the look on her face that I savor most.
Once I’m done chewing, I break off a piece for her, watching as she parts her lips in anticipation. When I place the cake in her mouth, she closes her eyes, a small moan escaping her as she tastes her own creation.
A dot of frosting clings to her lower lip, a temptation I have no intention of resisting. Leaning forward, I capture her mouth with mine, my tongue sweeping out to collect the sweetness. She responds instantly, her body melting against mine, her mouth opening beneath the gentle pressure.
When I pull back, her eyes remain closed for a moment longer, her lips slightly parted. The sight sends heat coiling through my gut, settling low and heavy. Soon, I remind myself. Soon she’ll be beneath me, around me, completely mine.
“Save some for us,” Matteo calls out, breaking the moment. The room fills with knowing laughter.
Susan takes over serving cake to the others while I lead Alina to a chair placed close to the center of the room. Another tradition awaits—one I’m particularly looking forward to.
“What are you doing?” Alina asks, her eyes widening as I guide her to sit.
“Something I’ve been thinking about all day,” I tell her, dropping to one knee before her. The room quiets as our guests gather in a loose circle around us, anticipation hanging in the air.
Her hands clutch nervously at the ivory fabric of her dress, and I place my palm on her knee to steady her. “Relax, Piccola,” I murmur, my voice pitched low for her ears only. “Let me have this.”
Understanding dawns in her eyes as I slowly begin to push the hem of her dress upward, revealing her pale skin inch by tantalizing inch. Her breath quickens, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the fabric bunches around her thighs.
And there it is—the pale blue garter Raven gave her, nestled high on her right thigh. The delicate lace contrasts beautifully with her creamy skin, and I have to resist the urge to run my hands higher.
“Hold still,” I command, my voice rougher than intended. Her thighs tremble beneath my touch, but she obeys, her eyes locked on mine.
Leaning forward, I grasp her calf firmly in both hands, steadying her as I lower my mouth to her thigh. I maintain eye contact as I capture the edge of the garter between my teeth, feeling the slight give of the elastic and the warmth of her skin.
Her pupils dilate further, her lips parting on a silent gasp as I begin to drag the garter downward.
The room around us fades away; everything beyond this moment of possession disappears. There’s only Alina, only her ragged breathing and the flush spreading across her chest, only the taste of lace and the scent of her arousal as I work the garter down over her knee.
When I finally pull it free, still holding it between my teeth, the room erupts in cheers and whistles. I rise slowly to my feet, the garter dangling from my mouth like a prize. Reaching up, I take it in my hand, twirling it around my finger with a smirk that makes Alina’s blush deepen.
“Toss it, Rafe,” Enzo calls out, but I shake my head.
“This one’s mine to keep,” I reply, tucking it into the pocket of my tux. A souvenir of this night—though not nearly as precious as what awaits me later.
I extend my hand to help Alina stand, noting how her legs wobble slightly. Leaning close, I whisper in her ear, “Wet for me already, Mrs. Brewer-Russo?”
Her sharp intake of breath is all the answer I need. She turns her face toward mine, her eyes dark with need, her voice barely above a whisper as she commands, “Take me somewhere we can finally be alone, Raffaele.”
Those words send a jolt of pure lust straight to my dick. I nod once. Then I scoop her up with one arm around her back and the other under her knees.
“Feel free to continue celebrating, but my wife and I will be retiring for the evening,” I say. Even though I’m speaking to the room, it’s Alina I’m looking at.
Matteo’s wolf whistle and Raven’s delighted giggle follow us as I carry Alina from the room and toward the grand staircase that leads to the master bedroom. But she surprises me by shaking her head.
“Not there,” she says, her eyes meeting mine with unexpected certainty.
“No?” I arch an eyebrow, curious about what she has in mind.
“The library,” she tells me, her voice soft but sure. “Where it all began. Where you taught me to play chess. Where you first made me feel…”
She doesn’t finish the thought, but she doesn’t need to. I understand perfectly. The library is where I began to collect far more than a debt.