Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“Papa, how is my tie?” Milo, my youngest, asks, fidgeting with it as he steps into my office. I look up and smile. He looks just like me when I was his age.
“You did a great job. It matches well with that suit. Did your mama pick it out?” He’s trying to be a big man like his dad and uncles, so suits are his new thing.
“No, Zia Aria did,” he remarks.
“She’s here?” I’m supposed to be dropping off the kids so they can watch them while we go out. We had five boys and stopped having kids after ten years. Nic is nineteen already and in college, and Michael graduates high school in a couple of months. Soon it will be just the three youngers ones in the house.
“Yes.” I look at my watch and I’m in trouble.
“Where’s your mama?” I ask, jumping out of my chair and rounding my desk before the words get out. We’re going to be late.
“Getting ready for your date night.”
“I’ve gotta go, Milo.”
“Mama has your suit ready,” he adds as I dash up the stairs, nearly colliding with Aria.
“Sorry.” I put out my arms to stop her from falling.
“She’s waiting for you. I’ll take the boys now. Happy Anniversary.” She winks and walks downstairs with a giggle.
I open our bedroom door to find my wife, sitting in the window seat in just her robe. “Sugar, I’m sorry. I know I should have been up here sooner. Why are you still in your robe?”
I tug on the buttons of my shirt, freeing my collar. I reach for my glasses when she stands and stops my hands. “Leave the glasses on,” she purrs, adjusting them back in place. Fuck, my dick is so hard, she might end up unable to walk for a week.
“We’re going to be late, my love,” I remind her, even though food is the last thing on my mind.
“I changed our reservation. Somehow I knew you’d get distracted.” I lick my lips as the ties on her robe fall open, revealing the black lace.
“You have my attention,” I growl, grabbing the silk on her shoulders and tug it off.
“I didn’t say you could touch me, Mr. Bianchi.”
I grip her chin, tipping her head to look up into my lust-filled eyes. “I own you, wife, from the day we met until the end of my days.”
Her breath escapes her parted lips as she releases a moan that I’m sure she feels down to her core. Her desire pours from those stunning blue eyes and my other hand cups her wet lace between her legs. “Wife, who owns this pussy?”
“You, Niccolò.”
“Forever,” I whisper across her lips.
I forget all about dinner as I spend the night reminding Ivy how much she belongs to me and how she’s always my priority.