Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
This was not a night when I needed foreplay. I’d wanted him the moment I saw him standing there in that church, a giant of a man who was too good for this world. I’d done nothing to disqualify myself from his love, but I knew I still didn’t deserve him. There were hotter, smarter, fitter girls out there, but for whatever reason, he chose to give me all of himself instead.
He came back to me, his heavy body making the bed shift and move with every change in position he made. He moved over me and separated my thighs with his knees before he hooked his arms behind my legs and pinned me back, getting me into a locked position before he guided himself to my slickness and started to sink.
Inch by inch, he filled me, and he didn’t give me more than I could handle tonight. His possessive eyes were on me, and a quiet moan escaped his throat as he officially made me his. He seemed thicker than before, like a hot rod of steel rather than human flesh. His thick arms bulged with muscle and veins as he held his body on top of me, and then he started to rock into me with slow and even thrusts, focused on the connection between our souls rather than the heat from our bodies. Wolfe didn’t seem like the kind of man to fall in love, let alone so deeply and so passionately—and with me, of all the women in this world—but he had.
I planted my hands on his chest, and my palm slid over his heart where I could feel it beating against my skin. Slow and steady, like holding himself above me and rocking me was no strain for him whatsoever. I got to feel the other half of my soul, got to feel the only man who could complete me the way he did.
20
WOLFE
I woke up the next morning to sunlight pouring into the room because we hadn’t closed the curtains last night. It raised the temperature a couple of degrees, and while I normally ran ten degrees hotter than everyone else, it was actually kind of nice.
Francesca was still asleep by my side, her makeup wrecked because she’d never washed her face last night. We’d made love and then fucked and then talked and then made love again. I wasn’t sure what time we actually went to sleep, but judging by the intensity of the light, it must be after noon now.
I lay there with her for a while and waited for her to stir, but she was still knocked out cold. I eventually left the bed and pulled on my boxers, my suit and her wedding dress still on the floor where we’d left them. I’d brought over a bag of clothes for us before I’d headed to the church, so I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and then headed downstairs.
The fridge was stocked with food, so I made some bacon and eggs and left some in the pan for her in case she was hungry. I didn’t make myself an espresso because the grinder on the machine could be loud as hell, and I didn’t want to wake up my wife.
My wife.
That had a nice ring to it.
I sat alone at the dining table and looked out the window. It was the end of August, so the tourists would finally return to their pockets of the world. September was my favorite time of year because the weather was perfect and everything was less crowded.
About an hour later, Francesca, my wife, came downstairs. She must have found my bag because she wore one of my t-shirts that had been packed inside. Her face had been washed, so she must have found the toiletries too. Some of the curls were still in her hair, but most of them had fallen out, though the volume was still intact.
She smiled when she looked at me, her eyes tired. “Morning.”
“Morning.” I left my chair and came around the table to kiss her. I wrapped my arms around her petite frame, and I held her against me, a little thing in my arms and the perfect fit. I brushed a kiss against her hairline. “Cappuccino?”
“Please.”
I made her coffee first and set it at the table before I made mine, just a black espresso. “Hungry?”
“Starving, but I don’t know why.”
“Maybe because it’s two in the afternoon,” I teased.
She sat at the table and tapped my screen to see the time on my phone. “Oh wow, we were up late last night.”
“And I have a feeling we’re going to be up late again tonight.” I turned on the burner on the stove to reheat the food still sitting in the pan, and once everything started to sizzle, I scooped it up and served it on a plate that I brought to her.