Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 142640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
The feeling between us is so magical.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you.” He kisses me. “So much that I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” I murmur.
His eyes search mine. “Marry me.”
19
Francesca
What?
Did I just hear that right?
I stare at him, shocked to my core.
“I mean…this isn’t how I…I know we haven’t been together long and I…. Fuck. World’s worst proposal.” He’s tripping over his words. “I fucked it, I was supposed to wait. I told myself I had to wait.”
He’s actually thought about this?
I love that it just came out without a heap of grand planning.
It came from his heart.
I smile down at my beautiful man, his body deep inside mine. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He squeezes me tight and we hold each other and those damn tears are back. Streaming down my face, because I know this wasn’t planned but somehow, it’s perfect.
“I need you,” I whisper. “Love me like you mean it.”
He smiles darkly against me and without another word lifts me and brings me back down on him hard.
Oh God.
With my body pinned to the wall, my legs lifted up over his arms, he lets me have him.
All of it, every last inch. Thick, strong and at piston pace.
The burn is so fucking good and I cling to his shoulders as we stare at each other.
Our bodies feeding off each other as they scream toward climax. I bear down on him, clenching as hard as I can and I cry out as an orgasm tears me to shreds.
One, two, three thick pumps and he holds himself deep and tips his head back and groans loud.
Deep and guttural…the hottest sound on earth.
I feel the telling jerk as his cock empties itself deep within my body.
Hearts racing, chests gasping for air, we stare at each other as a sense of home swims between us.
“My wife,” he whispers in awe.
I smile goofily down at him. “And I don’t even have to change my last name.”
He smirks, then smiles and then tips his head back and laughs out loud.
And, so do I, it’s cathartic.
Insanity in its purest form.
The sound of Giuliano’s gentle breathing is rhythmic.
In…out. In…out. In…out.
I lie on my side, starstruck by the god who sleeps next to me.
He’s on his back, the white sheet pooling around his groin, one hand is on his dick and the other behind his head. His golden skin, showcasing the perfect muscles beneath.
Rippled and cut.
My eyes roam lower over the chiseled abs and the thick quad muscle on his leg as it hangs out of the sheet, up over his chest to the black hair sprinkled across it.
Giuliano Ferrara is a beautiful-looking man.
Virile, masculine and strong.
But it’s his heart that I love, his big beautiful heart. And it belongs to me.
I always said that marriage wouldn’t change me, that I would feel exactly the same.
But weirdly, it already has.
I’ve been engaged for all of eight hours and the feeling of closeness and trust that it has brought me is a new kind of high.
The best kind.
We made love for most of the night, soft and hard. Hard and soft.
And somehow, we hit a new level of intimacy. Which I really don’t know how it’s possible, because we’ve always been perfect together. But this…this, is something else, something higher than the both of us.
Fate.
Giuliano Ferrara was always going to be my one true love.
And he is.
He stirs and his eyes flutter open, I watch as he gets his bearings and looks around.
“Hi,” I whisper.
A slow sexy smile crosses his face and he puts his hand under my pillow and drags me closer to him. “What a night.”
I smile as he wraps his big arms around me.
“Did I dream it?”
“You mean, did you ask me to marry you and did I accept?”
He smiles with a frown. “Yeah, that bit.”
“Uh-huh.” I run my fingers through his dark stubble. “There’s no getting out of it now, I’ve locked it in. It’s a date.”
He chuckles and pulls me over his body and I snuggle into his chest. “I don’t want to get out of it. But I wish….” He cuts himself off.
I look up at him. “You wish what?”
“I wish I did it…better.
I lean up onto my elbow. “Did what better?”
“I had this big romantic proposal planned and I….” He shrugs as if embarrassed. “Lost my head and fucked it.”
Oh….
“It was perfect, Jules,” I whisper.
He scratches his head, as if pissed with himself. “I didn’t even have a fucking ring, next time it will be better. I promise.” He rolls over on top of me and holds my hands above my head, he pushes his knees between my legs to spread them.
“We need to celebrate.” He smiles down at me.
“What are we celebrating?”
“A lifetime of loving you.”
And there is it…the reason I love this man.
How could I not?