“You look incredibly beautiful this morning.” I turn my head to see him, leaning against the doorway in just a pair of grey sweatpants. My gaze trails over my husband’s tatted body. The very body where I had my hands all over and the one that made me feel things I did not think was even possible.
The pants hang low on his waist, revealing the sharp V-cut that leads to the monster that is outlined. My tongue runs along my bottom lip at the memory of his dick. I move my eyes up to his muscular, clad body. I try to memorize every single tattoo that illustrates his skin, and my fingers are itching to trace each line. Finally, I meet his gaze and the sexiest grin along his full lips. My whole body is instantly set on fire.
I clear my throat, sit up, and grab the sheet up to my chin to cover my naked self. “Good morning.” My gaze lingers on his shoulder where the bandage was supposed to be, only to notice that is no longer present. I can see the very small stitch holding his skin together on his shoulder from his injury last night.
He pushes off the door and his feet clad against the floor to my side of the bed. He places down a glass of what I hope is coffee. His hand reaches out, cups my face, dragging his thumb across my cheek and bends down to kiss my lips gently. He pulls awaybefore the kiss turns into more. “I figured you would like to have your coffee in bed this morning after last night.”
“How are you feeling this morning?” I inspect his wound. The stitches look painful. “I see you have already removed the bandage.”
His nose runs along mine. “Thank you for asking, baby, but I feel fine.” His hot breath brushes my lips. “I also have started a bath for you because your body is sore.” My breath hitches at his kindness and thoughtfulness.
“But it’s taking all that I can do right now to not rip this light piece of fabric off your body, spread your legs, and bury my face between them to eat my new favorite meal.”
The thought of him between my legs, has my whole entire body tingle with remembering how good it felt to have him down there, licking, sucking and feeling incredible.
He chuckles, stands up, walks to his side of the bed and climbs in.
I reach for my coffee that he placed down, bring the sugary goodness to my lips, take a sip and moan as soon as the delicious liquid hits my tongue.
“Isabella.” My name rolling off his tongue was hard with a warning.
I roll my lips together before taking another sip of my coffee. My hands are wrapped around the cup when something comes to mind. How does he know how I like my coffee?
I take one more sip, place the drink back on my nightstand, pull the sheet up slightly, and ask, “How did you know what kind of coffee I would like?”
He leans against the headboard with his hands behind his head, making his biceps bulge. “Like I have told you, I see everything.” He says it so nonchalantly that when I go to open my mouth he speaks before I can get a word in. “I prepared you a bath to help relax your body.” He kisses me on my forehead.“You can finish your coffee in your tub.” He shifts in the bed, swinging his legs off the bed and heads into the bathroom.
I place my cup on the nightstand before gathering the bedsheet to wrap around my body. When I stand up, I notice the little blood stains on it as a mark. A mark of me giving myself to my husband and making me feel desired. I can feel my face heat up, my pussy is wet, and my clit throbs at wanting to feel him again inside me. Feel him touching me. Feeling him consuming my body to his command.
My hand reaches out, picking up my cup while the other holds the sheet up. The bathroom floor is cool against my bare feet. I try to sip my coffee and walk at the same time, but I fail. Some of the contents spills on to the sheet. I curse under my breath at the waste of a damn good cup of coffee.
In the bathroom, Enzo shuts off the faucet, his fingers graze the water to make sure it’s the right temperature. His deep chocolate eyes meet mine and the flutters in my stomach have my skin littered with goosebumps. “I believe the water is to your liking. Hot enough to burn off your flesh.” I laugh at his comment because he is not wrong. The hotter the better. I want to feel like it could burn my skin that way I know I am clean.
I throw back the rest of the coffee in two gulps before I step farther inside, place it down on the vanity, and approach him at the tub. “Us women, we want to have it burning our skin. How else would we exfoliate? I find it relaxing.”
He smiles at me. The type of that reaches his eyes, His full lips pull at the corners of his mouth, and his straight white teeth are on display, making his dark eyes twinkle as he winks at me. “I have other things I find more relaxing than burning off my flesh.” He pauses, and his hand reaches out for my empty hand, brushing his thumb over my knuckles and my wedding rings. Anytime he has a chance to lace his hand with my left one, he isalways touching my rings. “Let’s get you in the tub and soak your muscles.”
Suddenly, I start to feel nervous being naked again in front of him. I mean, it’s only the second time, but I still feel anxious. Last night, he saw all of me, but it felt different. It was raw, sensual and safe. But the way he is looking at me, it’s hot. The look in his gaze is heated, trailing down my body, licking his lips, anticipating for me to drop the sheet. His stare darkens. I slide my hand out of his. I gasp and go for the sheet, pulling it across my chest to hide myself. He grabs my wrists with his firm hands and tears the fabric out of my hands.
“What did I say last night, Isabella?” he commands.
I close my eyes and whisper, “To never hide.”
He pulls me into him, removing his grip from my wrist, to glide his hands up and down. Feeling every lump and imperfection that I’m insecure about. “That’s right.” He leans in closer with my middle is eye level with him, and he places small, soft kisses on my soft, plumb, squishy skin. “The hunger, the obsession, and need I have for your body is beyond anything that I have ever felt or wanted. Your body is perfectly sculpted for my hands and my hands only.” His hands find my hips, gripping them firmly like he did many times last night. “I don’t think I will ever get my fill of you after finally tasting, having and feeling your body against mine last night.” He raises his head, and I look down at his handsome face. “Did I make myself clear?”
I try to squeeze my legs together, and he notices because he takes a deep breath in. My hands find their way into his hair, gently pulling making him groan. A wave of bravery comes over me because I find myself saying to him, “I want you to stay and sit with me in the tub. You need to clean your wound.” His gaze is locked on mine, and I whisper, “Please.”
Smiling, he says, “Since you said please.” He pushes off the side of the tub, stands, and takes my hand to help me step into the hot, burning, calming water.
I hiss at first when my foot connects with the water, and I place the other one in. I bend ever so slightly to let myself get adjusted to the water. My bottom hits first, followed by my lower half and up to my chest. I’m fully engulfed with lavender scent and bubbles surrounding me. My wet hands slide up my neck to gather my hair, pulling it up and twisting it into a high bun. Then I tie the strands to not have it fall and get wet. I push back to make room for Enzo when my eyes widen at the sight before me.
My eyes are locked on him as his fingers slip into the waist band of his grey sweatpants, pulls them down in one swoop, and his dick springs free. His waiting, ready, rock-hard cock, standing at attention. It’s long, thick and holy crap its huge. How in the world did he fit that massive thing inside me last night without ripping apart my insides? He notices the look on my face and chuckles at me. The gentleness of his laugh sends a shiver down my back. I stare at his cock and notice the veins that run up and down, and I remember how good it felt in me. The head of his dick is pink and there is wetness coming out the top. My mouth waters at the sight with the need to taste him and feel him in my mouth. There is a slight curve upward to his dick.
He places one foot into the bath and mumbles a slur of curses in Sicilian before he places his other one. I watch intently as he lowers himself into the water and being engulfed by the bubbles. The tub is large enough that we are not touching even though we stretch out our legs.
Enzo’s hand under the water finds my ankle and gently pulls me toward him. I let out a gasp and go willingly to him. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto his lap. My bubble-covered hands glide up his chest, stopping at the wound on his shoulder. Gently, rub my fingers over it. I massage around it carefully.“Does it hurt when I touch it? It looks a little better.” I move my hands to wrap around his neck.
He rubs his lips together. “No, it does not hurt. It’s just a little scratch.”
