Chapter 54
~Elle~
Six weeks later.
Awareness creeps in like a thief in the night. For a moment, I’m disoriented. My eyes snap open to the ceiling above our bed, sunlight spilling across it. I sit up quickly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, fingers tugging through hair tangled like a bird’s nest.
Shit. The last thing I remember was putting Luca down in his cot before bed. Nothing after. This is the first night I’ve slept straight through since giving birth six weeks ago.
Luca wakes every three hours like clockwork, demanding to be fed. Dominic insists on being up with me each time, keeping vigil while I nurse our son. For the first month, I breastfed exclusively. Only recently did we introduce bottles, which allowed Dominic to help with the feedings.
He’s endured every sleepless night by my side.
And yet, come morning, he slips into his suit looking as handsome and composed as ever.
Rested. Untouched by exhaustion. It’s maddening.
No one would guess he’s been awake most of the night.
I don’t know how he does it. Meanwhile, sleep deprivation leaves me haggard.
I told him this one morning, half-joking, half-defeated. He only shook his head, eyes steady on mine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re still the most beautiful woman I know.”
The bedside clock reads six-thirty. Dominic’s pillow still bears the imprint of his head, but he isn’t beside me. He must be up with Luca.
I slip from the bed and make my way to the nursery. At the doorway, I pause. Dominic’s voice drifts through the room, low and soothing, mingling with Luca’s soft coos. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were carrying on a conversation.
My husband sits in the rocking chair, his back to me. Shirtless, navy pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips, bare feet resting on the patterned rug. Luca is cradled securely in his father’s arms, tiny limbs moving with excitement, reflected in the mirror across from them.
“Do you want to hear a story, son?” Dominic asks, pausing as though waiting for an answer. Luca gurgles in reply, and Dominic smiles.
“Okay then. Let me tell you about the day your daddy met an angel. Months ago, before you were even a thought, your daddy was hurt. Uncle Dante brought an angel to save me. She wove her magic and made me better. And when I finally opened my eyes, she was there, leaning over me. The light caught her hair, and I swore I saw a halo above her head. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.
She was beautiful. My Angel brought me back to life—and now she’s given me the most precious gift in the world.
Because of her, I’ve known heaven on earth. ”
Our eyes meet in the mirror above the white vanity, Dominic’s gaze locking with mine. The emotion in his eyes mirrors my own. I swipe at the tears slipping free. My God, I love this man.
The room is hushed now. Luca’s coos have faded; he’s lulled to sleep by the sound of his father’s voice. Without a word, Dominic rises from the chair, Luca cradled gently against his bare chest. He brushes past me, moving with quiet purpose, and lays our son in his crib.
I step closer, leaning over the cot’s rail to touch Luca’s soft cheek. The heat of Dominic’s stare makes my knees weak. I grip the bars to steady myself, resisting the urge to melt at his feet.
Dominic moves behind me, his arms braced on either side, caging me between the crib and the solid warmth of his chest. His body presses close, heat seeping through the thin fabric of my nightgown.
My eyes flutter shut as he lowers his face into the crook of my neck.
Feather-light kisses trail along my jaw, then down the curve of my throat.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to groan, not to wake Luca.
My teeth catch my lower lip, holding back the sound, while desire coils tight inside me.
Dominic’s mouth claims mine, and soft moans escape us both.
“Our son’s hunger has been sated, Angel,” he murmurs against my lips as he lifts me effortlessly into his arms. Carrying me through the connecting door to our bedroom, his voice drops to a husky whisper.
“Now it’s my turn. I’m hungry, and it’s time for my meal. ”
He lays me gently on the bed. My satin nightgown has ridden up, exposing black lace beneath.
His eyes darken as he reaches for the hem, but instead he steps back, stripping off his pajama bottoms and underwear.
His arousal is undeniable, but when I reach out to touch him, he captures my hand.
“No, Angel. If you touch me now, it’ll be over too quickly. ”
Dominic lowers himself onto the bed, bracing on his forearms so his weight doesn’t crush me. His lips find mine again, hungry and insistent. Our hands move frantically, desperate to touch, to caress, to reclaim what we’ve been denied for weeks.
The moment builds quickly. My body trembles as his body finally joins mine, and together we surrender to the rhythm, pressure mounting until it crests in an earth-shattering release. We collapse into each other’s arms, slick with sweat, hearts pounding, utterly sated.
Minutes pass before our breathing steadies. I trace the tattoos across his chest, my cheek resting against him. “Why didn’t you wake me to feed Luca?” I whisper.
His voice vibrates against my ear, low and tender. “You were tired, Angel. You needed to rest.”
Emotion swells in my chest. “Thank you. I love you, Dominic.”
His arms tighten around me. “I love you too, Angel.”