Page 68 of Precious Hazard (Perfectly Imperfect #11)

Several months later

Milene Ajello’s birthday bash

New York

Can’t fucking believe she said no . Again.

I don’t break our kiss as I kick the bathroom door shut and then lock it.

“Something tells me the don won’t be pleased with us ditching his wife’s party,” Tara says breathlessly while fumbling with my belt.

“I’ll apologize for not giving a fuck.” Wrapping my arms around her waist, I carry her toward the vanity counter.

“You might want to reconsider your attitude there, darling. After all, you have to stay on his good side so he won’t be too pissed about you delegating the review of all the business docs to me.”

“Ajello already knows. He even mentioned he’ll be dumping his own shit on you, too.” I crush my mouth to hers. “Now, no more work talk. All I want right now is to fuck my wife senseless.”

“Ex-wife.”

I growl. She just loves bringing this shit up.

It annoys the crap out of me, and she knows it.

She also knows that technically our divorce was never finalized because I refused to file the papers.

None of that stopped me from trying to win over my wife.

I’ve wooed her, dated her, made all her favorite meals, which she now has no problem indulging in night after night, and continually tried to convince her to accept my marriage proposal. No coercion this time. Just my love.

Including my initial attempt at the hospital, I’ve tried my luck exactly nineteen times. Regardless of the time, date, or place, the answer has been no , no , no .

I tried it during the Preslava celebration at her brother’s place, figuring that asking her in front of her crazy family and friends would do the trick.

Preslava is basically another version of the Slava but with fewer guests.

Still included the pig roast, unfortunately.

Nevertheless, I went down on one knee and asked Tara to marry me in front of fifty people.

She declined. But she kept the ring. Frustrating woman.

The day spiraled into a bit of a disaster after that.

While trying to romance my wife, I sort of abandoned my duties as the pig roaster.

The thing ended up burned to a crisp. Which led to Drago and me exchanging blows in the middle of the party tent, and we managed to knock over and roll around in the cake Keva made for the occasion.

It didn’t really matter who came out on top.

I think everyone just enjoyed the entertainment, as if we were a couple of clowns there to amuse the crowd.

Someone started a list of requests for the next family event.

That forced me to change tactics. The next time I gave proposing another shot was while we were having dinner at one of Tara’s favorite restaurants in Manhattan.

I was sure that a more upscale place would make her more receptive, especially if it reminded her of something out of those books she likes to read.

I even hired a string quartet to play her favorite song in the background.

People around us cheered and clapped as she beamed that maddeningly beautiful smile at me.

But that noise quickly died down with her resounding no .

My follow-up crack at asking her to marry me was at the opera, during the intermission between the first two acts. Then, at the local bookstore as she browsed in the historical smut section. The movie theater. In front of the lingerie shop.

No, Arturo . No . No, and stop interrupting the movie. No. You’re causing a scene.

Nineteen fucking times! I’ve poured my heart out while down on one knee. Every attempt was met with a negative answer. But each time, she made sure to accept the ring. At this point, I have a standing order with my jeweler in Rome. A new, custom-made emerald ring every couple of weeks.

All the engagement rings I’ve presented her with are lined up on top of our bedroom dresser, in our newly rebuilt home.

They are a sad testament to all my failed attempts at convincing Tara to choose me.

Each time I look at them, I can’t decide if I want to laugh or kill someone.

My only salvation? She’s never taken off my original ring.

Or the wedding band I gave her. Both are always present on her dainty finger.

“No hickeys,” Tara mumbles into my neck. “And please, try not to ruin my outfit this time.”

“I make no promises.”

The pink dress she’s wearing is close-fitting, but somehow, I manage to pull the hem up to her waist without tearing the fabric. No panties. Perfect. I deposit her naked ass on the marble and pull out my cock.

“Maybe I should just fuck you until you’re mindless and pliant.

” Her hair is a waterfall of gorgeous waves, reaching halfway down her back, all soft and silky.

As I fist a handful at the back of her head, the strands slip through my fingers.

“I should push you to the edge and simply keep you there until you say yes to my proposal, yes to marrying me all over again.”

A wicked smile spreads across her lips, and I’m once more bewildered by how fucking breathtaking she is.

“Interesting strategy.” Gripping the edge of the counter, she leans back and spreads her legs wide. “You should most certainly try it, darling.”

“Maybe I will.” I thrust inside her in one smooth motion. Home. Fucking bliss.

Her skin is so silky under my palm as I trail the delicate column of her throat.

Perfect. Bloody perfect. Just like the whole of her.

Angling my hips, I plunge deeper, then pull out, leaving only a fraction of an inch.

She loves it when I pound into her mercilessly, retreating almost completely before driving back in.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, I’m going to get her to agree to marry me even if it makes my poor aching dick explode in the end. Her pulse picks up under my fingertips, and I sense the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Yes, baby, yes.

Gliding my other hand up her thigh, I slip it between our bodies, running my fingers over the folds of her pussy, up to her sweet swollen clit.

Such a sensitive little spot, pulsing with each stroke of my thumb.

Tara is so damn wet, the slapping of our flesh fills the room.

Loud and lewd. I love it. The smell of her arousal is making me crazy.

Hungry. Yearning for more. I pick up my pace, thrusting faster, but pulling back when I feel her getting too close to the precipice.

Sharp nails dig into my neck, for sure leaving red crescent moons that will mark my skin for hours. Branding me as hers. That’s not really necessary. I’ve been hers from the moment my eyes fell on my wildcat, and I’ll be hers until my dying breath.

“Maybe you’d like to reconsider my offer?” I graze my teeth along the edge of her chin, then down her delicate throat, the swells of her breasts.

“No.” Her response comes out as a drawn-out moan rather than a clearly spoken word.

Damn it.

I shift again, changing the angle once more.

My hips ram harder, faster. I’m pressing as deep as I can while her inner walls clamp down on me, squeezing me like a vise.

The overhead lights cast a bright glow over her beautiful tits.

Tits that are right now nearly spilling out of the bodice of her dress.

I curse inwardly for not having enough hands to do all the things I want to my woman.

Touch her everywhere. All at once. I’m forced to abandon her throat so I can grab her right breast, kneading it lightly.

Matching the squeeze of my fingers to the rhythm of my thrusts.

“I can keep this up for hours,” I lie. That tingle at the base of my spine is already spreading, nudging me ever closer to the edge. I urge myself to hold on, drawing out her pleasure, all while the sweet, intoxicating smell of our lovemaking wraps around me, diminishing my resolve.

“Liar,” she pants next to my ear. “We both know I can break you, and I only need to do this.”

Her teeth sink into the soft tissue between my neck and shoulder, sending an electric jolt through every part of my body. I snap. Grabbing her knees, I push them open wider, and then I’m pounding into her like a man possessed.

Her back arches toward me as she moans. The most beautiful sounds leave her sinful lips as I claim her. With every thrust, I can feel her core spasming around my cock. She detonates. Shaking, shivering, riding the swells of ecstasy while calling out my name.

Mine. Only mine.

Gritting my teeth, I pull out, and the sudden loss of her heat almost sends me to my knees.

I cradle her face with my palms, coaxing her slightly dazed eyes to meet mine.

Every single muscle in my body is strained.

The need to plunge back into her is overwhelming.

A visceral urge that can’t be denied. I want to fill her with my cum, brand her completely. But I also need her to understand.

“I love you more than anything else in this world, gattina ,” I rasp. “Anything. Can you comprehend that?”

That emerald gaze burns into me while her lips quiver.

No matter how many times she’s said it back before, the fear that this time she might remain silent nearly chokes me.

Doubt creeps in that I somehow ruined everything for us after all.

I need to hear her speak the words or I just might fucking die.

“I love you too, Arturo.”

Relief pours into my system like a life-giving rain. Every time she says it, a shockwave goes through me. Letting out a groan, I plunge back inside her pussy, so deep and forcefully that I almost come right then.

Tara’s passionate scream explodes into the room.

It’s loud, and I bet everyone in the banquet hall probably heard it.

Above the music, chatter, and all. Tremors rack her body as she falls apart in my embrace.

Again. I hold on to her tightly, just as I intend to hold on to her for all eternity.

Keeping her safe and protected in my arms.