Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Lucia
Four years later
My gaze flickers to the clock for the third time. Tony lounges on the couch like he has all the time in the world. He’s utterly lost in our daughter, one big hand resting on her back as she chatters away from his lap.
Antonia, dressed in her favorite soft pink pajamas, is animatedly recounting her day at preschool.
“Adam tried to barge into my fort, but I wouldn’t let him. It’s my fort. If he wants to come in, he has to ask nicely.”
Tony threads his fingers through her soft blonde hair, a slow smile tugging at his mouth. “Thought you and Adam were friends, baby girl.”
Antonia’s eyes go wide. “We were friends, but he broke Tessia’s bracelet! She cried all day. Nobody hurts my friends and gets away with it.”
Tony plants a kiss on her cheek, and Antonia dives right back into her story about the fort and her bravery in standing up to Adam. I catch the proud glint in Tony’s eyes. He loves that his little girl already refuses to take shit from boys.
I sigh deeply and head to the kitchen, passing Fabiano, who’s scrolling on his phone while sipping his coffee.
“We’re already late,” I mutter, pouring the water into my glass. “And Tony still can’t tear himself away from her.”
A soft smile plays on Fabiano’s lips. “Why rush? It’s not like you’re close to the bride or groom’s family anyway.”
I arch an eyebrow. “The bride is the senator’s daughter, Fabiano. Showing up late is going to look terrible. Half of Tony’s deals ride on that man, and right now our daughter’s stories matter more to him than that.”
Fabiano chuckles softly and walks over, that familiar teasing glint in his eyes. He pulls me into a quick hug. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of your own daughter.”
I tilt my head back and give him a look that screams, Really? He steps back, laughing again and quickly retracts his words.
“Okay, okay, I’m kidding. You’ve given me plenty of lectures about how proud you are that Tony’s the best dad in the world. You don’t need to stress. I’ll rescue you.”
We walk back into the living room together. Antonia’s eyes sparkle as she waves her little hands wildly, talking a mile a minute while Tony watches her like she hung the moon.
Fabiano raises his voice playfully. “Anybody seen the little girl who promised to play house with me tonight? Winner gets a pretty prize.”
Antonia squeals at the mention of a prize, leaping off Tony’s lap and practically flying toward Fabiano.
“Here I am! Here I am!”
Fabiano sweeps her up into his arms, holding her tight, then winks at me. “Just enjoy tonight. Your little princess is safe with me.”
I stroke his arm gently, my eyes telling him everything he needs to know.
“Call me before bedtime, okay? I want to say goodnight to her,” I say, then lean in to kiss my girl on the cheek.
Fabiano nods. Tony, as if snapping out of the spell Antonia had him under, walks over to us and kisses her little hand.
“Save the rest of your story for tomorrow, okay?”
Antonia flashes him a toothy smile and nods her head enthusiastically. Tony kisses her cheek. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Daddy. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, my little angel,” Tony responds warmly.
A soft smile curves my lips as I watch them, even as the clock keeps ticking in my head.
“Tony, we’re running really late.”
Tony pats Fabiano’s shoulder, and finally manages to pull himself away from Antonia. As the elevator doors close, he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him swiftly.
His voice drops, low and rough. “Come here, baby.”
I tilt my head up to meet his eager gaze. Tonight is not just about the party, it’s also our night. Once a month, we put poor Fabiano on babysitting duty, pulling him away from his studies, so we can indulge in each other’s company, body, and soul. My whole body burns for him.
“Tony…” The word comes out breathless as my hands slide down his chest.
He lowers his head, ready to claim my lips, but I stop him with a soft protest.
“Don’t ruin my makeup,” I whisper against his mouth. “It’s the senator’s daughter’s wedding, for God’s sake.”
“Fuck the senator,” he growls, and crushes his mouth to mine.
His mouth is hot, his scent dizzying, and I’m helpless to resist. I surrender to instinct, parting my lips, letting him take me wherever he wants.
***
The ceremony is over, and we’re on our way to the hotel.
All night, Tony’s eyes have been devouring me—my breasts, my ass, every curve.
He’s making it impossible to think straight.
I don’t know how he does it, but one look from him and I lose every ounce of control.
His gaze, the touch of his hands, the heat of his mouth, they take me somewhere else entirely.
A place where I could stay for days, even months, without thinking about hunger or thirst.
Even though he’s sitting right next to me, I can’t look at him. Looking at him feels like a starving person gazing at a feast. Rafael sits in the front like always, silent and watchful. I don’t dare move.
When I feel the warmth of his hand on mine, it’s as if a jolt of electricity courses through me. I pull my hand back sharply and shoot him a warning glare. He bites back a laugh.
“We’re almost there,” he murmurs.
I touch my neck and crack the window open, letting the cool spring air calm the fire raging inside me.
As soon as the car comes to a stop, I have the sudden urge to kiss the driver on the cheek in gratitude. Tony and I share the same trait, we hate showing too much affection in public. Neither of us likes anyone intruding on our intimate moments.
To the outside world, we might seem like two cold, unemotional people. But God knows they can’t begin to imagine the fiery inferno that consumes us in bed, setting our world ablaze.
He opens the door to the royal suite and steps aside, letting me enter first. Without looking at him, I walk toward the floor-to-ceiling window and stare at the cityscape beyond.
I hear his footsteps as he approaches, feel his hands wrapping around me, pulling me against his body.
The hardness pressing against the curve of my ass makes my eyes close, and my body melts back into his chest. Tilting my head back against his chest, I reach behind me, threading my fingers into his hair.
With a sigh from deep in my chest, I pull his head down and part my lips as much as I can, kissing him wetly and deeply.
His hand cups my breast, possessive and sure, fingers tightening just enough to pull a gasp from me. I push myself closer to him, grinding against him.
His other hand finds the zipper of my shiny purple gown and slowly slides it down. Once the zipper is undone, his fingertips graze my shoulder and slide along my collarbone, loosening the dress. His hand continues to roam toward my neck, all while his lips never leave mine.
Gripping the edges of the gown with both hands, he pulls it down.
I alternate lifting my arms to slip them out of the sleeves, letting the fabric fall to the floor.
Tony wraps one arm around my chest, cupping my breasts, while his other hand grabs my pussy firmly, lifting me clean off the floor.
The pressure from his grip sends a sharp cry from my lips, and I clench, letting the wave of pleasure surge through me.
Tony sets me down at the edge of the bed, his palm firm between my shoulder blades as he bends me over. My feet stay planted on the floor, stomach pressed to the cool satin. I turn my head to the side, letting the cool satin kiss my cheek.
With practiced fingers, he unhooks my strapless bra and slides it away, his hand warm against my stomach as he lifts me just enough. The toe of his shoe nudges my heels apart, spreading my legs for him.
His fingers hook into the thin straps of my thong and yank upward. The delicate lace tears away with a sharp snap.
The sudden burn of lace against my skin pulls a gasp from me. Before I can lift my head, his hand presses firmly between my shoulder blades, holding me down.
He sheds his clothes in seconds. His hands grip both sides of my hips, and then he goes down on me.
A shiver races down my spine the moment his tongue slides deep.
Every slow, deliberate stroke pulls louder moans from my throat.
My fingers clutch the sheets, and I rock my hips, synchronizing with the rhythm of his tongue.
When my body starts to clench around his tongue, he finds that perfect spot and doesn’t let go. He focuses on it relentlessly, his lips and tongue working together until a piercing cry escapes me, sending me tumbling over the edge into ecstasy.
Still floating, I barely register his hands sliding under me. In one smooth motion, he lifts and shifts me higher up the bed, then flips me onto my back. His knees press my thighs apart as he positions himself between my legs.
He braces his left forearm beside my head, then guides his big cock to my pussy with his other hand. Slowly, he pushes inside, stretching me open until he’s buried to the hilt.
My legs bend at the knees as I press my head against his chest. Taking him is always a mix of pain and pleasure. He rests two fingers on my clit, massaging gently without moving for a few moments, letting my body adjust.
The moment I start moving with him, I slide my hands under his arms and dig my nails into his shoulders. That’s all it takes.
His slow rhythm lasts only a few seconds before he starts pounding into me with force.
Every powerful thrust slams the headboard against the wall, the rhythmic thud filling the suite.
Wrapping my legs around him, I lock my still-heeled ankles against his firm, rounded backside, driving him deeper inside me.
His head buries in the curve of my neck as he moves with a wild pace, the hard, heated flesh plunging into me over and over.
“Tony…” My voice is barely a whisper against his ear. “Make me pregnant.”