Chapter 30 Alessandro #2
“How weird it is that we work so well together. Like, on paper, we shouldn’t make sense.
You’re this established don with years of experience, and I’m, well, barely out of my teens,” she sets down her fork and smiles at me.
It makes my heart skip several beats. “You think everything through carefully, and I tend to act on instinct. You’re patient, and I want immediate results. ”
“And yet?” I’m not really sure where she’s going with this thought.
Her smile is soft, thoughtful. “And yet somehow we balance each other out perfectly. Your patience keeps me from being reckless, and my instincts keep you from overthinking everything. When we plan operations together, we come up with solutions neither of us would have found alone.”
Well…damn. I never thought of it that way. We truly do seem like we are made for each other.
“You make me better,” I tell her honestly, my heart in my throat. “Smarter, stronger, more complete than I ever was without you.”
“Same here.” She reaches across the table to take my hand.
“I never understood what people meant when they talked about finding their other half. It always sounded like bullshit to me, like people just convincing themselves they needed someone else to be whole.” Her fingers intertwine with mine, softly squeezing them.
“But now I get it. You don’t complete me because I was incomplete before.
You enhance everything I already am and make it better. ”
The sincerity in her voice, the way she’s looking at me like I’m the center of her world—it’s time. I’ve been waiting for the right moment and it’s finally here. My heart starts racing as I signal the waiter for the check.
“Dessert?” he asks.
“Just coffee,” I manage, not trusting my voice for more complex sentences.
The coffee arrives with small almond biscotti, and Bianca settles back in her chair with a contented sigh. “This was perfect. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Actually,” I say, reaching into my jacket pocket, “the evening isn’t quite over yet.”
Her eyebrows rise in curiosity as she plucks a piece of biscotti off the plate and brings it to her mouth. “No?”
“No.”
I pull out the ring box, my hands surprisingly steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my system. Her eyes widen as she realizes what’s happening, her biscotti freezing halfway to her lips.
“Bianca,” I begin, opening the box to reveal the diamond and sapphire ring that catches the candlelight. “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment. But today I realized that every moment with you is perfect.”
The biscotti falls to the table. Her hand flies to her mouth, tears already gathering in her eyes as she stares at the ring.
“I love everything about you,” I continue, my voice gaining strength as the words pour out.
“Your intelligence, your strength, your capacity for both tenderness and ruthlessness. I love how you can command a room full of dangerous men and then get on the floor to play with toddlers. I love how you challenge me, support me, and make me want to be better than I ever thought I could be.”
“Alessandro,” she whispers, but I’m not done yet.
“I want to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life,” I’m babbling, but I don’t care.
“I want to build an empire with you, raise a family with you, grow old with you. I want to be your partner in everything—business, life, love, whatever comes next.” I take a shaky breath. “Bianca DeLuca, will you marry me?”
For a moment, she just stares at me, mouth agape, eyes wide. Then she launches herself across the table, not caring about the coffee that spills or the other diners who turn to stare.
“You absolute asshole,” she sobs against my neck as I catch her in my arms. “Saying all that sweet stuff about me. I hate you so much.”
This was not the reaction I was expecting, and I’m hoping she’s just so overwhelmed she hasn’t had a chance to answer me.
“So, is that a yes?” I ask her.
She pulls back to cup my cheek, mascara tracking down her cheeks. “Yes,” she laughs. “Of course it is. A thousand times yes.”
Oh thank fuck. The ring slides onto her finger like it was made for her, which I suppose it was. She holds her hand up to admire it, the diamonds catching the light as she moves.
“It’s perfect,” she breathes, her voice a little shaky. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
“Like you,” I tell her, meaning every word.
The drive back to the compound is a blur of excitement and planning and Bianca calling everyone she can think of to share the news. By the time we arrive, we’re greeted by Matteo, Bella, and what seems like half the family organization, all wanting to congratulate us and see the ring.
The celebration is spontaneous and joyful—champagne appears from somewhere, toasts are made, and even the normally stoic Antonio gets emotional when he hugs Bianca and tells her how happy he is for us both.
“When’s the wedding?” Bella asks, practically bouncing with excitement as she examines the ring for the hundredth time.
“Soon,” Bianca says, looking at me with eyes bright with love and anticipation. “Life’s too short to wait.”
“Soon,” I agree, pulling her closer to my side.
Matteo frowns. “At least wait until you’ve finished the school year,” he protests before Bella shoves a hand over his mouth and glares at him so fiercely that he mutters his apologies for daring to voice his opinion.
I take a mental picture of this moment. It’s not often that Matteo DeLuca is cowed into silence and I’m going to relish the rarity of this occasion.
Eventually, we manage to extract ourselves from the well-wishers and drive to my place, both of us giddy with champagne and the reality of what just happened.
“We’re engaged,” Bianca says wonderingly as I unlock the front door. She hasn’t stopped staring at her ring since I placed it on her finger. “We’re actually engaged.”
“Having second thoughts?” I tease.
She scoffs. “Never.” She turns to face me, her engagement ring catching the hallway light. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
The kiss that follows is soft at first, tender and full of promise. But it quickly deepens as months of love and desire and the euphoria of our engagement combine into something urgent and necessary.
“I need you,” she whispers against my lips, her hands already working at the buttons of my shirt.
“Always,” I tell her, lifting her easily and carrying her toward the bedroom. “For the rest of our lives.”
I don’t bother turning on the lights as we go. I’ve lived here long enough to find my way in the inky shadows that blanket the hallways. When we arrive at my bedroom, I open the door with my foot. Then, in a few long strides, I cross the space and deposit her onto the bed.
“Clothes off,” I order her, even as I reach for the buckle of my belt.
“Make me,” she says, smirking at me as she looks up at me from the mattress.
It’s a sight I can get used to. Even in the dimly lit room, I can see the flush on her cheeks and the gleam in her eyes. The engagement ring sparkles in the moonlight. She doesn’t need to disrobe for me to imagine her naked, spread across my sheets or curled under my covers.
Is it too soon to ask her to move in? I mean, we are engaged now so it’s not like she can’t move in.
After all, when she was in the hotel penthouse, we were basically living together anyway.
My fantasies are interrupted by her hands covering mine, or rather shoving them out of the way as she undoes the button of my pants.
“No,” I say, stilling her movements.
When she looks up at me questioningly, I say, “It’s my turn.”
Without waiting for her to say anything, I guide her back onto the bed and flip the skirt of her dress.
She’s bare beneath—god damn—glistening for me.
It makes my mouth water, and really, why should I deny myself any longer?
I descend into the apex of her thighs like a starving man, my mouth on her pussy eager and wanting.
My tongue dips between her folds to sample the slick juices that leak from her.
Bianca’s fingers thread through my hair and she holds me in place as she undulates her hips, chasing her pleasure as she grinds against my face. I manage to tear myself away from drinking from her long enough to purse my lips around her clit, my fingers taking the place of my tongue.
It doesn’t take long for her to fall apart as a result of my actions.
I’ve always considered myself to be an attentive partner.
The orgasm I deliver with my fingers and mouth leaves her boneless.
She doesn’t even protest when I tear the dress from her and toss the tattered remains of the garment to the side of the bed. I’ll buy her another.
Fuck me, she isn’t wearing a bra.
“You’re trying to kill me,” I manage to get out, my cock straining against my underwear.
Bianca laughs throatily, looking up at me through her lashes. “I was hoping we would skip dessert at the restaurant and have dessert here,” she says cheekily.
My cock jumps and I lean forward to capture her nipple in my mouth. I don’t bother with my own clothes now. I’m too desperate to be inside her. In a few short seconds, I take my cock from my boxers and push into her in one fluid stroke.
A strangled cry escapes Bianca at the suddenness of it, at the way I split her open with no warning.
And still, she clearly welcomes it. Her thighs bracket my waist to hold me close to her.
Her heels dig into my ass to urge me forward.
Her nails leave red tracks down my back, bringing pain that I revel in.
When she digs her teeth into the muscle of my shoulder, I groan my approval.
I love that she leaves marks and wants to show me off as hers.
The pain also grounds me, allowing me more control over my own body.
If the sheer euphoria of fucking her was all that existed, I wouldn’t last more than a minute.
I’m not embarrassed by this admission. I don’t think anyone who has had her could feel differently.
As it is, this push and pull between pleasure and pain lets me keep my orgasm at bay.
It causes the ecstasy to build in a slow crescendo, rather than crash over me abruptly.
By focusing on the stinging, tender flesh of my back, I fuck her through another orgasm.
Sweat causes my skin to stick to hers. It blurs my vision and dampens the hair now plastered against my forehead. My heart thunders in my chest, but I’m not done yet. We’re engaged now, and I mean to make this moment memorable.
“Come here,” I say, taking her hand in my hand, meaning to pull her back onto me so that she can ride my cock.
“No,” Bianca says. “I want it from behind.”
Who am I to argue with her? While I want to see her breasts bounce as she fucks herself on my length, I also appreciate the view of her pert ass as I slam my hips into her.
Thus, I concede, but not before tearing my clothes off.
It’s getting too warm in my room and I want to feel every inch of her bare skin on mine.
Bianca is laid out before me like the most delicious meal. Her back curves beautifully as she pushes her ass into the air and her chest into the mattress. Her pussy is even more slick with arousal, and she spreads around my cock as I slide back into her with a sigh.
Perfect. So goddamn perfect. I fuck her slowly, appreciating the view.
I grab hold of her hips, kneading the skin there in time with the thrust of my hips.
I take my time, unhurried even though the pressure in my groin is unfuckingbearable.
The need to come drowns out nearly all else—except for Bianca.
I want to make this good for her, so I keep the same slow pace until I can feel the tension release as she relaxes beneath my touch.
I lose myself in the noises we’re making—the breathy moans from Bianca and the rhythmic slap of my skin against hers.
These noises along with the feeling of sliding into her slick pussy is too much.
It’s too good. I allow myself to really feel her.
And when her pussy begins to pulse around me, I surrender to it, grunting as I spill into her, the noises of her orgasm music to my ear.
Time gets fuzzy as static fills my brain.
When I come back to my senses, I’m lying flat on the bed with Bianca curled beside me.
“I love you, future Mrs. Ricci,” I murmur against her hair, running my fingers through the silken, damp strands.
“I love you too, future husband,” she murmurs back, already half asleep in my arms.
As I listen to her breathing slow and even out, I realize that everything I’ve ever wanted is right here in my arms. The woman I love, the partner who makes me complete, the future that we’ll build together.
Tomorrow we’ll start planning a wedding that will announce to the world that we’re stronger together than apart. But tonight, we’re just two people who found something real and lasting in a world that tries to destroy everything good.
Tonight, that’s more than enough.
It’s everything.