Page 61 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

“Good,” I chime, arching a teasing brow at him.” But you insisted on buying me jewelry…”

“I just love to adorn your pretty neck. You’re my woman to spoil, but you can wear them both.”

“The bike is still my favorite present.”

As if my engagement ring, his love declaration, and a future together weren’t gift enough once we returned to the compound, a black beauty waited for me next to his Lambo.

Looking back, the corners of my mouth arch up. As he was sure of me not being able to kill him, so was I that beneath the hurt, he still loved me. I wouldn’t call it endured, but what matters is we overcome the past. If the road doesn’t get bumpy, how will you learn to navigate life?

We make quite a pair at the traffic lights, me in all black on my beast of motorcycle and he in his black Lambo.

“All I have is yours. Not half, but all.”

I know. My husband doesn’t do half measured things.

“We should join the other guests. We’re poor hosts.”

“We should be on our way to our honeymoon,” he grumbles, sweeping me into another kiss and dance.

He doesn’t like to share me at all, and I love it.

One hour, that’s all the time my husband is willing to spend with our guests before he stands up, extending his hand to me. I take it and follow him to the limousine while the guests’ good wishes, cheers, and innuendo of returning as three explode behind us.

Tomaso dips his head, congratulates us, and opens the door.

The back of this car has witnessed some heavy sex scenes. The visual alone heats my blood and coupled with that sinful vibe Enzo emanates, I swear it’s like my husband drips sex appeal and eroticism, placing a horny spell on me.

The driver puts up the partition before we even have to tell him. My husband drags me onto his lap, his palms cupping each ass cheek. He crushes his mouth on mine, feeding me his passion and promises of sinful carnality.

I am breathless by the time the kiss ends, and he brings his forehead down on mine. “I am barely holding on here and once I start…”

I know, but the wait is killing me while only stoking our desire until we’re burning up for each other.

Luckily, the driver brings us to the private hangar housing our private jet.

An hour later, the plane lands on Catalina Island.

We’re picked up at the airport and taken to the port where a sleek white yacht waits for us.

The four-person crew, after greeting us and letting us know we would be underway to Hawaii in the next few minutes, disappears stealthily, giving us coveted privacy.

Leaving the upper deck, he brings me inside. Down the stairs, he opens the door to a spacious stateroom with a king-sized bed, a shiny closet with a big mirror, and a sleek floor with a marble shower stall in the corner.

Gathering me in his arms, I squeal as he carries me over the threshold, grinning. Then he places me down with utter gentleness. Turning me around, he slowly unbuttons the back of my dress.

His fingertips leave goose bumps behind while heating me up at the same time. The anticipation makes me a nervous and eager wanton mess.

He slides the straps off my shoulder. And since I didn’t wear a bra, I am left in only a white thong and stockings.

My husband grips the tattooed cheek, trailing kisses from my neck, down my back to biting into my ass.

“You’re cruel,” I whine, wanting him inside of me already.

“Let me worship the body I made mine and only mine. Branded, marked, tattooed…”

“You madman.”

“You turned me into one.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all, which only amps up my desire for him to take me, own my body and propel me straight in the arms of ecstasy.

I giggle. “No complaints, amore.”

“It would be too late, anyway.”

I love that slight threat, as if regardless of my wish, he would never let me go. And then both his hands and mouth are gone, leaving me hungry for more.

“What are you—” But I get my answer as he moves to the counter and returns with a sharpie. Pulling the lid off with his teeth, he completes his tattoo with wife, making me so emotional for the second time today. Tears gather in my eyes. I think I like it a tad better than woman.

I move to unbutton his shirt, but when I slip it off him, my movement comes to a halt. I look up into his eyes brimming with adoration. The tears I tried to fight off roll down my cheeks as I see the tattoo on his chest—Calla’s.

My mouth opens and closes but I am too emotional to form words.

He takes my hand in his and places my palm on his chest. “I made it last night after I slipped out of your bed… I am wearing you in and on my body, Calla.”

Taking the Sharpie from his other hand, I write husband next to my name, smiling and crying at the same time in sheer delight—this moment feels so precious.

He lets me have my emotional breakdown by hugging me tightly and kissing the top of my head.

Only when my cries subside does he descend on me, pushing me onto the bed.

He eats me out like he’s been starving for months before he found his personal source of sustenance.

His fingers and mouth separated are wicked, but in combination they’re a pleasure machine.

He plays with my clit, nips and nibbles on my lips before fucking me with his tongue.

The pleasure is so potent and exquisite; I stand no chance, coming on a shaky breath.

But he’s not done with me. I thought becoming his wife would tame the beast, but his fervor only proves the opposite.

It only made him more frantic to possess me.

He kisses every inch of my body before he stops at my breasts. The desire only increases with him lapping and biting the eager-for-his-ministrations nipples. I hold on to his powerful arms, moaning and writhing. So good. Too much and not at all, turning me into a wanton, greedy mess.

Eyes locked, he guides his cock to my entrance. Even after all the times he’s been inside me, I struggle to take all of him. Considering the groan he lets out, he loves that just like I do.

He thrusts inside of me, bottoming out in one go, leaving me breathless and aching for everything he can give me. The sex is always so intense, so maddeningly spectacular.

He makes love to his wife like he worships the ground I walk on before he fucks me like a slut. I don’t care; I love it regardless––the intensity, the passion, the heart and body connection feel incredible.

He takes my mouth in a long kiss.

“Fuck, I will never get enough of you.”

My nails scratch along his back, never tiring of marking and exploring his work of art body.

“You better because I’d kill you.” And I am serious. He’s mine—solely mine. Calla and Enzo for life or neither will have a life.

I am not joking, and I swear he gets harder inside of me. “I’ll never tire of you. Never. Erase that fucking thought.” His tone lowers into an unapologetic command that makes me all hot and eager to obey him.

Then he fucks my mouth and ass.

“You’re insatiable,” I murmur, lying on the bed, boneless, spent and satiated, floating on clouds of endorphins.

“For you,” he rasps, filling me up.

That’s how we spend the honeymoon, sunbathing mostly from under a giant umbrella.

He takes care of his tattoo, even though he has a protective sun-blocking patch on, but he doesn’t want to risk it. I find it endearing and that’s why I never leave his side, not caring about getting tanned at all.

We swim in the ocean and fuck whenever we please until the yacht docks by an island where we disembark. The crew remains behind, and other staff members pick up our stuff, carrying it along the wooden pathway toward a white villa with a glass front.

With the turquoise water, the waves roll over the shore in a calming sound. A soft breeze plays in my hair as the sun kisses my cheeks. Surrounded by white sand, lush palms, and exotic greenery, the landscape looks like we’ve landed in paradise.

“It’s yours. My gift to you, my wife, and the woman who has given me everything I desired most. I’ll never take you for granted. You’re my everything, mio angelo. Thank you for standing with me. Thank you for sharing your life with me. Thank you for choosing me, amore mio.”

Speechless, I jump in his arms as he twirls me around. “I love you so much. And apparently you can keep up with me being high maintenance.”

“I love you. I’ll spend more on you than you could ever imagine,” he says smugly.

I believe him. Wholeheartedly.

But I already have it all—his love and a life.

Everything else will be just a welcome bonus.