Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
"I found it a few days ago while exploring," I explain as we enter. "It seemed... indulgent in the best possible way."
The space is magnificent—a sunken bath large enough for several people, surrounded by smooth marble, with subtle lighting that can be adjusted to any intensity. Glass walls on one side reveal the ocean beyond, the view private due to the property's isolation.
I move to the controls, having already figured out how they work during my earlier exploration. Warm water begins to fill the sunken bath. Steam rises, fogging the glass walls slightly, creating an atmosphere of dreamlike intimacy. I wait until everything's ready before turning to him, and I'm surprised (but also slightly embarrassed) to find my voice turning husky as I hear myself say...
"Take off your clothes, husband."
Gabriele doesn't answer.
He simply does what I ask, and I can feel myself starting to get wet as I watch him slowly unbutton his shirt, his movements deliberate. Unhurried. And so impossibly seductive that jealousy suddenly makes my heart ache.
"Have you done this before for other women?" I blurt out.
My husband laughs. "I'll take that as a compliment."
My throat dries when Gabriele finally stands before me, magnificent and powerful and big. In every way he can be.
I just can't believe this is my husband!
"Your turn, cara."
I find myself turning into a clumsy mess under his gaze. But not once does he offer to help me. All he does is stare. And make me burn hotter with every passing second.
When we're both naked, I step into the bath first, the hot water a delicious shock against my skin. I settle on one of the underwater benches, extending my hand to him in invitation.
He joins me with characteristic grace, lowering himself into the water across from me rather than beside me. The distance is deliberate, I think—giving me space, letting me set the pace of whatever this becomes.
"This was a good idea, Kleah."
Hearing his praise is like having sun shine on me for the first time, but the huskiness of his voice also makes me tingle all over. "You've been taking care of me since the moment we met." The words spill past my lips in a breathless tone. "I just wanted to take care of you in return, for once."
"You don't owe me anything."
"I know." I move closer, the water rippling around me as I shift to sit beside him. "That's what makes this a gift, not a debt."
My heart thunders as I place my hand on his chest. "You're always so careful with me..." Being this close to him makes it so hard to speak. "So controlled." Because all I can think of right now is how perfect my husband is.
"You deserve care. Consideration."
"But this time, I want more. I want what you need."
"And what do you think I need?"
The thickness of his voice makes me dizzy with desire.
"W-What you need...is s-something I need as well."
A shiver runs through him, subtle but unmistakable. "Kleah..."
"Let me." I'm begging, coaxing, and tempting him at the same time. "Let me do this for you."
My hand slides lower, and I find Gabriele already half-hard from our closeness, from the anticipation of what might come. His breath catches as I wrap my fingers around his shaft under the water, the way he taught me that first night.
His eyes darken, but I don't give him the chance to say something to stop me. I kneel on the submerged bench. The water comes to just below my breasts, warm and buoyant around me.
"Tell me if I do something wrong," I whisper. "Show me how to please you."
I lower my head and notice how my husband's hands clench on the edge of the bath, knuckles whitening with the effort of restraint.
I've never done this before, but I've felt his mouth on me, know the pleasure it can bring. I want to give that to him, to watch his careful control shatter under my touch.
When I finally take him into my mouth, his sharp intake of breath is immensely satisfying. His hand comes to rest on my head, not pushing, just a gentle weight, an anchor.
"Like this?" I ask, looking up at him through my lashes.
"Yes." My husband speaks between clenched teeth. "Just like that."
I try to experiment with different rhythms. Different pressures. Different angles. And I'm rewarded by the beautiful expression on Gabriele's handsome face—eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, the usual perfect control beginning to fray at the edges.
Pride blooms in my chest when I hear my husband's breathing grow more ragged, and the hand in my hair tightens slightly.
"Kleah."
Who knew the sound of a man's growl can be just like the most beautiful strand of music?
I can feel my husband's control crumbling, and it's intoxicating.
"Give it to me, Gabriele..."
A growl escapes his beautiful lips, and his release, when it comes, makes an exquisite sight. I don't think I'll ever forget how Gabriele looks, with his dark head thrown back, and his big, hard body jerking as my mouth tightens around his length.