Page 58

Chapter 58

Juliette

“Honeymoon suite. Why am I surprised?” I asked as we stood outside the door of our new room, leaving our separate ones behind forever. The lack of paperwork tonight didn’t matter. As far as I was concerned, I was his wife in every way that truly counted.

Constantine unlocked the door and shoved it open. “Allow me.” He flicked the keycard inside before sweeping me into his arms, carrying me over the threshold. His lips found mine with each step, possessive and tender, his body heat searing through my dress.

Still holding me, he kicked the door shut behind us, sealing us in our own world as he lifted his head and locked eyes with mine. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my back, anticipation coiling in my stomach.

Was it possible his heart was racing as fast as mine as he lowered me slowly to the ground?

We had a son together, yet it felt like we were about to make love for the first time. My fingers itched to map every inch of his body, my lips aching to follow.

I turned to take in the room, my breath hitching at the details he’d meticulously arranged. Hand in mine, he guided me farther in.

Crisp white linens, scattered with deep red rose petals, beckoned us to sink into their embrace. Vintage sconces cast a golden glow over the room, their soft flicker reflecting off the glass of the roaring fireplace. The window was cracked just enough to let in the night air, a cool breath mingling with the soothing scent of lavender.

“Shocked there’s no bottle of champagne.” I gave his hand a hard, knowing squeeze.

“Want all the decisions you make tonight to be yours, now don’t we?” he rasped before cupping my face in his hands. The warmth of his body pressed against mine, his heat enveloping me. “I love you so damn much.”

“Love you more,” I whispered, lost in him, in this moment, in the way our lips met like this was both our first time and our last.

A moment later, he knelt before me and offered to remove my sandals. I held on to his shoulders for balance, loving the feel of his solid strength beneath my palm. The way his muscles flexed even with the simple act. Fierce and commanding in every part of his life, yet here he was on his knees for me.

The soft wave of his dark hair fell over his forehead as he stood tall again. My fingers slipped between us, unfastening his belt. The metal clinked, followed by the slow slide of his zipper. My pulse pounded as I stepped back, reaching for my dress.

His gaze tracked my every movement. Jaw tight. Breathing shallow.

The firelight danced over his face as I slid the straps from my shoulders. First the dress. Then the bra. All that remained were my satin panties, cream-colored and delicate, barely a whisper against my skin.

He inhaled sharply, his broad chest rising with a measured breath. His hands flexed at his sides as I hooked my thumbs beneath the waistband, my pulse thrumming in anticipation.

I had never felt more powerful. More confident. More his.

“There’s something I’ve never done before,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the crackling fire, “and I want to do it before we get into that bed and make love.”

His brows lifted, confusion flickering in his eyes.

Panties slipping to the floor, I reached for his hand in silent request to help me kneel before him now. My gift to him. My surrender.

“You’ve never . . .?” he asked through gritted teeth, his voice raw with disbelief.

I looked up at him, heat pooling between us. “I’ve never.”

He dropped to his knees, hitting the hardwood floors, and kissed me. “Fuck,” he whispered against my tongue. “What am I going to do with you?” He growled a few Italian words while blindly searching for something without breaking away. “Are you sure?”

He’d grabbed the red-and-black plaid blanket from the bench at the end of the bed and held it between us.

“More than anything, I want to feel you in my mouth.” I licked my lips, and he tilted his head back, his throat muscles going taut like he was at war with his own mind. “I have no clue how to,” I admitted, “but I’ll try my best.”

He dropped his head, chasing a smile away with his free hand. “My love?”

“Mm?”

“You do remember last weekend you got me off without even touching me? Trust me when I say that seeing your lips wrapped around my cock will more than likely give me another near-death experience.” His voice was rough, low, and wrecked.

“No dying on me.”

He palmed my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “Lucky for me, you can revive me if I do.”

His hand slid to my stomach, then lower, fingers teasing between my legs, tracing a slow, tortuous path to my center.

I inhaled sharply, only letting the breath go when he pushed two fingers inside me.

“So wet for me.”

Before I knew it, I’d been outmaneuvered. He had the blanket open by the fire and me on my back. His face hovered over my sex, not the other way around.

“I’m a greedy bastard,” he rasped. “I have to taste you first.”

Then his mouth was on me, and I fisted the blanket, my back arching as his tongue dragged over me, his fingers driving deep.

Oh. My. God.

I couldn’t hold back. I probably lasted as long as I did the first time seventeen years ago, shattering against his tongue.

His hands traveled over my body as his lips moved up to my stomach, then to my breasts. My arms lay limply at my sides like I was the one who’d died and gone to Heaven. (That phrase officially had new meaning after Italy.)

Panting.

Breathless.

But not nearly sated.

I needed him inside me.

He took his time, worshipping my body with his hands and mouth, letting me come down from the high, knowing full well he intended to take me there again soon.

“Strip for me.” I reached up for his face, dragging my thumb along the line of his mouth. “I need to see you naked.”

“Whatever my wife wants, she gets.” He kissed the tip of my nose before pushing off the floor to stand.

I propped myself up on my forearms, just as greedy for him as he was for me.

He pulled his belt through the loops, whipping it off with a little crack like he wouldn’t mind putting it to use on my ass at some point, and smirked, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Yeah, he’d read my thoughts.

“I’d never . . .” His eyes flew between my legs. “Your delicate skin? No way.”

He slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt, then parted it open, revealing his hard, masculine chest.

I didn’t even notice the scars now. They may have been visible to the naked eye, but I knew the ones that’d pained him the most were now healed. And that was all I wanted for him—to feel whole and at peace. The way he made me feel.

When he was finally standing before me, a tower of naked strength, I switched to my knees, anxious for what was to come. So much was in store for tonight. And all the days, months, and years after tonight.

“Go easy on me,” he teased, stepping closer. “Don’t get me off in ten seconds. I have to save a little of my ego.”

“I’ll be gentle. Well, I’ll try, at least.” I chuckled, then eagerly closed the space between us and fisted his cock and cupped his balls.

When I held on to him, his quad muscles immediately and visibly flexed before my eyes. The flames from the fire threw shadows across his gorgeous, rock-hard body as I leaned in, ready to take him.

I licked the head of his crown, then dragged my tongue along the side of his thick length, unsure how he fit in me last time. And it’d be a tight fit tonight after seventeen years.

Wow. Literally, seventeen to the day.

He tangled his hand in my hair as I opened my mouth and slid my lips over him. Nowhere near a perfect fit since he was so big, but at his snarling and groaning, he seemed to be enjoying it just fine.

“Stop. Stoppp,” he ordered not even a minute later, a string of Italian words spilling from his lips before he urged me to back off. “Screw my ego. I can’t last with your mouth around my cock, and I’m not ready to get off.” He had me on my feet and on the bed within seconds.

We hadn’t had the protection talk, and I was sure he’d come prepared with a condom in case that was what I wanted, but it wasn’t.

“I want nothing between us,” I said as he braced himself on his forearms over me. “I want you to come inside me.”

His nostrils flared as he peered into my eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He kissed me, and I rotated my hips, anxious to feel him. “You can give me that first.”

My heart swelled at his words, at what he was letting me know.

“It’s going to hurt.” He brought his lips to my forehead, then to my temple, reverent and tender.

I clutched his arms to prepare for his thrust, knowing it’d be painful.

“The idea of hurting you hurts me,” he whispered, his lips trailing to my other temple, then to my nose, then to my lips.

“It’ll be so worth a few seconds of pain. Can’t enjoy the rainbow if you don’t?—”

“Have the rain,” he finished for me, his voice deep and raspy.

I let go of his arm to reach between us and guide him to my center. “Now, are you going to make love to your wife, or what?”

A grin stretched across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

I swallowed, and he pushed inside me in one fast, deep stroke.

A gasp tore from my lips as he stretched me. Our first time together flashed through my mind as he began moving, gliding in and out, his body commanding mine.

“Are you okay?” he asked, softening his tempo. He kissed the edge of my eye where a tear had slipped free.

“Incredible. Otherworldly. Amazing,” I singsonged, my heart, mind, and body aligned in dizzying ecstasy. “You?”

“All of those things and more,” he replied, his breath hot against my skin.

As my body adjusted, the ache giving way to pleasure, I began moving with him, need clawing at me.

A hot, frenzied hunger exploded inside me.

I locked my heels at his back and moved harder and faster, desperate for more. More of him. More of us, together as one.

“You’re going to kill my ego again,” he groaned. “You keep moving like that, and I’m going to come, and I won’t even be sorry about it happening so fast. All your fault.”

“Mm. I’ll happily take the blame.” I rocked against him, teetering on the edge. “Come with me,” I begged. “Now.” I panted the demand again as my orgasm built, my body tightening around him. Then I lost control, my scream of, “Now, now, nowwwww,” muffed against his chest where I buried my face.

He cursed, grunted, and came just as hard.

We spent our night like that.

Naked. Sweaty. Wrapped in each other’s arms.

Not making up for lost time, just having the time of our lives.

I woke up the following day with Constantine nearly crushing me. Apparently, he was used to sleeping in the middle of the bed. His apology for that came in the form of an orgasm by way of his mouth. I wasn’t going to complain. He could roll on top of me anytime he wanted.

My insatiable-as-ever husband flipped me onto all fours after that and lightly swatted my ass.

I shot him a saucy look over my shoulder, my hands fisting the bedding. “What happened to my delicate skin?” I teased.

He gripped my hips, his fingers digging in. “As I recall, during our shower, my wife begged me to spank her the next time we fucked . Her naughty words, not mine.”

He was right about that. What could I say? He brought out that side of me.

Just before he plunged inside me, I sighed, utterly sated. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”