Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 26768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
I move first, going to the bed and grabbing the cuffs off the pillow.
“Can we cuff our wrists together?” The gritty and raw was left in the first two rooms and right now, I want to round out this moment with us. I was his whore. His passion. And now, I want to be his wife. There is a need now to seek out my husband from the shadows we casted on this night.
“Like our fucking souls, mio moglie.”
“Like our souls,” I repeat.
He comes to me. Sauntering slowly and effortlessly, naked and like a god among men. Taking the cuffs from me, he grabs my wrist gently and locks one cuff into place, before doing the same on his. Laying us down on the bed, he takes our cuffed hands and places them above our heads. Our soaked bodies were growing cold, but with each second they stay touching, warmth replaces the chill.
I lift my legs up and out, opening myself to him and without a word, he slides inside me. Home. We are home again. We share a similar groan, and lazily he slides in and out of me.
“Emelia,” he pleas. The way he says that is an actual cry of desperation.
“Yes, baby,” I coo, cupping his face with my free hand.
“I want another baby. I need you to give me one more.” We have been trying for one more and it hasn’t happened yet or so he thinks.
“Nico?” I smile. This past month, I have held a secret close to my chest, waiting to tell me sweet love when the time was right.
“Yes?”
“I’m pregnant,” I tell him. His eyes search mine, looking for any sign of deception. But there is none.
“You’re pregnant?”
I nod, smiling.
“Il mio re, you are going to be a father again.” The world around us, the one who knows the killer—that crumbles and the version of my husband only I get to see comes out. A lone tear. The man meant to make others cry, cries over his love and joy for his family.
He slides in and out slowly, but the pull and drag is intense against my sensitive center. With all the orgasming and constant aching of arousal, I am overly tender.
“Mi rubi il flato e spero che non lo restituirai mai.” You steal my breath and I hope you never return it.
“I won’t. You have built a legacy with a wife and children who love you so much, Nico Dante Valiente,” I whisper and moan collectively.
“You made me a home. Filled my life with more purpose. Thank you, sweet love.” He praises. And with no more words. We spend the next hour chasing and pulling back at the cusp. Only finally orgasming when we are ready for rest to take us under.
Room four will have to wait until our bodies have recovered.
The sunlight casts a halo around my sleeping husband. I woke before he did this morning and I watched him peacefully rest. It is rare that I get to see him in a state of ease. Usually up before dawn and asleep after me, I get this in rare glimpses. Watching someone so powerful and living a life of crime and brutality, find peace in slumber is a sight to behold.
“Watching me sleep or waiting for me to have you again.” He opens his eyes and rubs the sleep from them before stretching. I am covered in a plush bathrobe and I have a glass of orange juice in my hands.
“You look peaceful. Waking you seemed selfish.” I smile, extending my hand and offering him a drink. He sits up on his elbow and takes the cup. Taking a sip, he hands it back to me then sits up. His body looks so stunning in the morning light. I see every bullet hole, knife wound and defined slab of muscle on his chest, abs, and arms. The sheet hides the bottom half which matches the top perfectly.
“Never selfish when I know my morning can start out here.” He moves and I giggle and squeal, he moves us under him and slides my robe open from my thighs to just under my breast. He caresses my legs first, then my hip and finally my stomach. Balancing above me on one outstretched arm, he looks at my round belly to my face.
“Do you think we have another boy, or is my angel girl growing in there?” Nico so desperately wants a girl. Me? I will take a healthy baby and sure, he would be just as thrilled with another boy, but I know having a girl will fill that hard heart with just enough softness that I won’t be the only one he has wrapped around his finger.
“This pregnancy is slightly different. I haven’t been sick yet, and with the boys, you know I was awfully ill,” I remind him. I could barely leave the house each pregnancy. I was constantly nauseated or throwing up. This time around, I’m just tired and my hormones are higher. Clearly.