The sensation is unlike anything I’ve felt before.
My limbs go limp as Sly dismantles my legs from his shoulders before he flips me like a rag doll, pulling my hips into the air. In one stroke, he’s inside of me.
Leaning against my back, he pounds into me, sliding in and out with ease from how wet I am as I grip the pillow.
“Words cannot describe how amazing you feel, piccola ladra. So wet for me—gripping my cock like a vice. How many more orgasms can I pull from your body before we go explore my city, hmm, mia bellissima moglie?”
“I can’t,” I breathe.
“Oh, I guarantee you can, bella. Your body sings to me in a harmony only I can hear. Your pussy is weeping for me, drenching me in your desire. I know your body, Vincenza, and it tells me you can give me more.” Snaking his hand around my waist, his fingers find my oversensitive clit and begin to rub it with slow, methodological touches. This time, it feels as though he’s soothing my body after the intense pleasure he just extracted.
Melting against the pillow, I push my hips toward him, spurring his movements. He may know my body, but I know his too, and I can feel when he is holding back his own release.
With a rhythm of their own, my hips begin to sway as I grind against him. His sharp hiss gives me the confidence to continue, but it also encourages him. His fingers rub me faster, and my body betrays me with the familiar tingles that start to vibrate within me.
“I know what you’re doing,” I tell him with a shaky breath. Though it’s extremely difficult, I maneuver my arm to reach beneath our bodies and cup his balls, massaging them gently as he slams into me.
A heady groan erupts through him, and he begins to slam into me faster.
The change in pace only increases the orgasm that threatens to detonate. “Faster,” I beg, pushing my hips back with every thrust.
“Vinnie—” he groans, and I hear the hesitancy in his voice, but he doesn’t stop.
“You won’t hurt me. Fuck me faster,” I beg again.
His hips increase their speed and I bite down on the pillow, loving the way his movements cause both pleasure with a mix of pain.
Needing more leverage, Sly moves his hands so both are gripping my waist as he pounds into me, harder than he ever has before. He’s lost to the movement, his disjointed grunts filling our bedroom.
Knowing I’m close, I reach between my legs and rub myself, rolling my clit between my fingers before I start to circle it rapidly.
“Come, Vinnie. Play with yourself until your toes curl and you’re screaming my name.”
“You come,” I argue. My eyes roll backward as he grips my backside, digging his nails into my flesh before he pulls back and smacks it with an open palm. It isn’t hard—just enough to sting—but it sends a jolt through my core that immediately sends me soaring.
“Sly!” I scream into the pillow. At the same time, Sly groans a string of words in Italian that I don’t understand. His cock twitches inside me, filling me up again as he comes.
Rather than let me go, his hands are all over me, touching every inch of skin as we catch our breath.
“Holy shit,” I shudder, and he laughs.
“I love when you’re authentically yourself, piccola ladra. You are bewitching when you are portraying the woman you were raised to be, but inherently sexy when you allow your true personality to shine.”
Withdrawing from me, I hiss as the soreness immediately sets in. He scoots off the bed, then leans forward and kisses meas I sink into the soft mattress. “Stay here, my wife. I’ll be right back.”
I close my eyes as his footsteps draw further, then hear the sound of water filling the clawfoot tub in the adjoining bathroom at the same time as water flows from the sink. Moments later, the sink faucet turns off, and Sly’s footsteps return. A hot compress is pressed between my legs as the weight of Sly’s body sinks onto the mattress beside me.
“I am drawing you a bath, amore mio. Rose and eucalyptus bath oils have been added, as well as bath salts and bubbles. When you are relaxed, we will have breakfast, then explore Verona. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like I don’t deserve you,” I muse, turning my head to look at him. He’s the image of perfection as he looks down at me, his dark hair astray with a few rogue strands flopping over his hazel eyes.
“Sì, you do, piccola ladra. You deserve every bit of happiness this world has to offer.”
Emotion overtakes me—guilt filtering through my bloodstream like acid. Weneedto talk more about everything that’s happened—I just can’t bring myself to ruin the moment.
But Sly knows me better than I know myself. Reaching over, he wipes the tear with the pad of his thumb and bends down, kissing my temple. “We have our whole lives to discuss what happened, Vinnie. All that matters to me in this moment is that you are cared for and that you know how happy you make me. You made me the happiest man alive when you became my wife.”
“I just want you to know how much I love you. How everything I did was because I thought I was protecting you. I see now what a mistake that was, and I’m so sorry, Sly. I’m so sorry.”
