40. Emily
SIX MONTHS LATER
Night on the Amalfi Coast is every bit as hot and sticky as I remember.
For the last six months, I’ve been marveling at every single milestone little Olivia made. Everything from the first time she opened her eyes, the first time her perfect little mouth formed into a smile, down to the first time she successfully rolled onto her tummy.
For six months, I’ve also been obsessing over every little detail, losing hours of sleep every night in the process.
Konstantin kept telling me that I needed some time to myself, but it’s been so hard to even go for a second without Olivia.
Finally, it took the combined urging of both Ivica and Alisa before I agreed to Konstantin’s offer of whisking me away back to the Amalfi Coast for just a couple of days to ourselves.
After all, he reminded me, we never had a real honeymoon.
“Just a few days,” I had told him as we were shooed out of the castle .
The entire way over, I couldn’t stop feeling guilty. And it was only after Konstantin showed me the live feed of little Olivia being rocked to sleep in Ivica’s arms that I could finally start to relax a little.
Our car rolls to a stop. Before I can hop off Konstantin’s lap, he digs his hands into my legs, holding me tight against him. When the chauffeur opens the door, he scoops me up and carries me out, only depositing me on the cobblestone streets after a few steps. The move has me so breathless, I don’t even realize where we are at first.
And then I hear the sound of a live band filtering out from a small bar to drift down the stone streets. The front is covered in greenery. Potted plants hang from twisting ropes or grow from clay basins. Couples shake their hips together sensually in hypnotic circles as the band plays. We walk to the entrance, and the distinct smell of saffron and white wine fills the air.
And the memories all come back in an instant.
The bar where he took me the first night we met. After Zebra Club.
“I can’t believe you remembered,” I murmur.
“When it comes to you,” Konstantin says, leaning down to press his lips against my neck. “I remember everything.”
He takes me by the hand and leads me inside. We stop by the bar for two shots of tart limoncello, and this time, I remember to sip it. Once we’ve finished our drinks, we head straight for the center of the dance floor.
I don’t feel self-conscious about taking center stage anymore. Partly because I know how well Konstantin can lead, but mostly because I know that he’s here with me .
He tugs me close against him, our bodies mere inches from each other. The familiar scent of soap and aftershave leaves me weak in the knees.
Even though we’re married and I spend every night in his bed, I don’t think I’ll ever get over just how handsome he is.
I don’t think I can ever get over the fact that he’s mine for the rest of my life.
Placing one hand on my lower back, Konstantin pulls me into the rhythm of the music. Our hips sway naturally together. He’s still a more natural dancer than me, but I don’t mind. It just means that our hips occasionally bump together as I miss the beat.
And each bump stokes the fire already burning between us just a little bit bigger.
All my thoughts and worries vanish the longer we dance. I’m once again caught in the music and the movements, following a rhythm as Konstantin effortlessly guides me through the process. The glowing yellow lanterns above bathe us in warm light. Konstantin’s hard features look more masculine, more seductive in their soft glow.
He presses his thigh between mine, and the pressure makes me feel wanton and shameless. I grind against the hard muscular bands of his leg, feeling my panties dampen with every motion. Desire burns in his ice-blue eyes.
I can feel his cock growing larger in the space between us. We continue dancing, our bodies focused on nothing but each other.
“I want to stay here with you forever,” I whisper to him.
He lowers his head and I feel his breath against my ear. “Don’t you want to see just how this night is going to end?”
“I had to leave last time, remember?” I press myself more firmly against his leg, so I know he can feel how wet I am. “And so did you.”
His hand at my hip moves lower, cups my ass, and gives it a firm possessive squeeze.
“This time,” he says, voice low and rough. “Neither of us is going anywhere.”
The town car isn’t waiting outside for us. Instead, it’s Konstantin’s Lamborghini, parked just outside. I swallow my disappointment; if he’s driving, then we can’t make out in the back seat.
Oh well. I guess a girl can wait ten minutes.
Especially if she’s sitting in the passenger seat of her dream car.
It’s not long before the car is driving over cliffside roads, the cool night air drifting over my skin. I can see the ocean below us, reflecting back the moon and stars in a celestial haze. The whole night feels crisp, fresh, untainted.
“I love this car,” I say, running my fingers over the buttery leather seats. “I have since the first time you drove me in it.”
“Are you saying that you loved my Lamborghini before you loved me?” Konstantin asks with a half grin.
“I loved it first, but I love you more,” I reassure him.
Konstantin’s answering laugh floats into the night.
Too soon, the car turns off the main road onto a steep highway. I see the familiar two-story house with the orange door. It’s the same house where we spent our first night together. Somehow, I knew that this would be where we were headed afterward. But to see it in person …
“You still have it,” I say, disbelieving .
“Of course I still do,” he says. He gets out of the car and opens my door for me. “I wanted it to be here just for you and me. Maybe we can bring Olivia when she’s older.”
“I’d like that.”
The lights come on immediately when we enter, and I take in the familiar space that once seemed like a dream to me. Konstantin strides to the kitchen, peeling off his jacket and throwing it over a counter. I slip off my shoes and follow him.
“Do you remember how else this night went last time, Kitty Cat?” he asks.
“I’m pretty sure this is the part where you feed me,” I say, laughing. “But you have to promise to tear off all my clothes later.”
He shoots me a dark, sexy-as-sin look. “I promise.”
I take a seat on a stool by the counter and watch him work. His movements are graceful and precise, and I can see the way his muscles move under his white shirt.
“It’s not fair that you’re good at cooking and dancing, and you look that yummy,” I say with a sigh.
“And all yours,” he reminds me. “You get to dance with me, sleep in my bed, and eat my cooking.”
“That’s true,” I say. “Please continue.”
I keep ogling my husband until he’s finished preparing the paninis. My mouth waters looking at the ham, melty cheese, and tomatoes peeking out between the fresh bread.
“This is the part where I take you upstairs, isn’t it?” he says before I can grab a sandwich and dig in. “And don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the wine.”
My heart skips a beat. He’s literally remembered it down to the exact detail. “Lead the way.”
I carry the plates while Konstantin follows, holding two wineglasses, a bottle, and a corkscrew. We make our way onto the balcony and settle into the same woven black chairs. I sit on my hands to keep myself from reaching for my panini before Konstantin opens the wine and pours it.
Finally, we take our glasses and clink.
“I told you that I’d make you this recipe again, Kitty Cat,” Konstantin says.
“Time to find out if it holds up,” I reply, picking up my sandwich and finally taking a bite.
The panini is just as delicious as the first time. I groan loudly as the fresh and salty flavors mix on my tongue.
“God, that’s good,” I say as I chew.
“No God.” He smiles. “Only me.”
“You’re so full of yourself.” I laugh.
We sit and stare at each other until we finish our paninis and start sipping wine. Although it feels peaceful out here, I can still feel the same electric anticipation that I felt during our first night here.
I know that he won’t walk away this time, and I know I won’t receive a call telling me the worst thing has just happened.
But a part of me is still on edge.
And until he lays me out on the plush bed just beyond the glass door, spreads my legs, and fucks me until my throat is raw from screaming, I know won’t ever back down from that edge.
Konstantin pulls my chair toward him.
“Come closer, Kitty Cat,” he says.
I stand up from my own chair and sit on his lap, his muscular thighs strong and thick underneath me.
“What’s next?” I ask, smiling back at him.
“I thought we’d wait and see the sunrise,” he whispers in my ear and gives it a gentle nibble.
His powerful hand starts moving up my thighs, past the hem of my skirt, and finds the thin materials of my panties that have already become slick with arousal.
“I’d like that,” I breathe.
Grinding my hips slowly against his lap, I feel his massive cock stirring to life underneath me.
He feels so big, so overwhelming like this.
He plants one soft kiss after another along my neck. “There’s still an hour before it starts.”
“I think I know what we can do with that time,” I whisper as I reach back and start working at the stubborn lip of his pants.
THE END