Chapter 15
ALESSIA
I pout when he tells me he can’t stay the night.
“You at least got off,” he teases me when he drops me off.
“You could stay the night and take a helicopter in the morning,” I say petulantly.
“I did think about that, but Alessia, cara, I don’t want our first time to be rushed. I’ll be back this weekend, and I’m all yours then.”
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
I kiss him goodbye, feeling very much like my heart is about to burst out of my body. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. I’m not falling in love anymore; I am very much in love with my husband.
How can I not be?
We’re balanced on a knife’s edge, Nico and I. All restraint and anticipation, stretched thin.
So, it shouldn’t surprise me that he comes earlier than he says he will to Pietra Alta, but it does. It also charms.
I’m alone in the cellar, early evening light slanting through the high windows, turning the concrete floor amber.
The air is cool and smells of yeast and damp stone.
Fermentations hum softly around me—alive, impatient, needing attention.
I’m checking a tank, jotting down numbers, lost in the familiar comfort of work, when I hear footsteps.
I look up wondering who’s coming down this late.
Then I hear my name.
“Alessia.”
I freeze. He was supposed to be here tomorrow.
When I turn, he’s standing just inside the doorway, jacket slung over one shoulder as if he walked in on impulse and decided—at the last second—not to turn around.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
The cellar feels suddenly too small. And I know, with absolute clarity, that whatever careful peace we’ve been keeping is about to be ruined.
I run to him as he holds his arms out wide, dropping his suit jacket on the floor, and he lifts me up in a hug, swinging me off my feet.
Nico’s eyes are dark, hungry. His hands are on me, holding me close.
His fingers catch my wrist, lifting it to his mouth, and my breath hitches as his tongue darts out, tasting my pulse.
His lips are warm, soft, and when they close around my skin, I can’t suppress the gasp that escapes me.
“Cara.” The word sends a shiver down my spine.
His other hand slides around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I can feel the hard length of him pressing into my stomach, and my mouth goes dry.
His mouth moves to my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there, and I arch into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
“Nico,” I breathe, and the sound is needy, desperate. He hums against my skin, the vibrations making me dizzy.
“Sei così bella,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, squeezing roughly. “You’re so beautiful.”
The words are rough, guttural, and they make my core clench with want. No one has ever said I am beautiful. I never thought he would.
Wetness pools between my legs, my panties cling to me like a second skin.
He lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he pins me against the cool stone wall of the cellar.
His mouth crashes into mine, and I moan into the kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair. His tongue is hot, demanding, and I surrender to it completely, letting him dominate my mouth as his hips grind against me.
“I know I should take you to bed…but….”
“I don’t want to wait either.” I urgently push his shirt off of him.
The ridge of his cock presses into me. I whimper, rocking against him.
He groans, his hands pulling down my jeans along with my panties and boots.
I step out of them, naked from the waist down.
He holds my gaze as he sinks two fingers into me without warning.
I cry out, my head falling back against the wall as he thrusts his fingers deep, curling them just right to make me see stars.
“So wet for me,” he growls, his breath hot against my ear.
I take his shirt off and stroke my hand down his chest all the way down to his stomach. I cup him, and he pushes against me.
“Si, just like that, Alessia. Touch me, tesoro.”
I unbuckle his belt and unzip him. As I hold him hard and heavy in my hand, his fingers move faster, his thumb circling my clit in tight, teasing circles that have me writhing against him.
“Nico, please,” I beg, my voice breaking as he pushes me closer to the edge.
He chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing my earlobe.
“I want to hear you scream my name,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. And then he’s pulling his fingers out, leaving me empty and aching.
He slides into me in one swift thrust.
I scream, my nails digging into his shoulders.
He’s thick, hot, and he stretches me in the most delicious way, filling me completely. His hips snap against mine, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
“Dio, you are tight,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips as he fucks me harder, deeper.
I clench around him, my orgasm building like a storm.
He leans in, capturing my lips in a searing kiss as his hand slides between us, his fingers finding my clit again.
“Dio!” I cry out as I come apart in his arms, my body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.
He follows me over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spills inside me, his moans muffled against my lips.
We collapse against the wall, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. He presses a kiss to my forehead, his hands still tangled in my hair.
“Mia moglie,” he murmurs softly.
For the first time since this arrangement between him and me began, I believe that we can have a real marriage, one with a future, with children and—
Dio! We didn’t even talk about contraception. Good thing I have an IUD, which I got to help with my heavy periods many years ago.
He slides a finger into me with ease, lubricated by my release and his.
I shiver in response. My thoughts scatter. All I can think about is Nico. All I can feel is him.
“Again,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from screaming his name when I climaxed.
He smiles, his eyes dark with promise. “As many times as you want, dolcezza.”