Page 16 of Crimson Vows

I can see the exhaustion and relief in his eyes as he stares back at me.

With a soft chuckle, I remove the strap-on and set it aside. “How about we clean up and rest a bit?” I lean over and kiss him on the cheek before whispering, “And then it’s my turn.”

Marco smiles as he exits the swing, freeing his legs, and tells me how eager he is to return the favor. I guide him into the bathroom, where we wash each other’s bodies, preparing each other for what else the night holds.

Once we are back in the bedroom, lying together on the bed, our bodies draped across one another, my hand naturally gravitates to Marco’s face. I trace his jawline, feeling the stubble beneath my fingertips. The silence stretches between us, filled with the echo of my confession.

He draws a deep breath and finally speaks, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths. “Gia, I’ve never really played with toys before,” he admits, his eyes searching mine for a response.

The vulnerability in his gaze is raw, striking chords within me that resonate with longing and admiration. Here lies a man who commands respect, yet he lays bare his inexperience without pretense, seeking connection over ego.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my heart swelling. “Most men wouldn’t have been as vulnerable as you were with me tonight.”

Marco’s lips curve into a soft smile, and he pulls me closer. “I feel like I can be open about anything with you.”

I trace the contours of Marco’s tattooed arm, each line a testament to his life’s journey. He watches, his muscles relaxing under my touch and his breath steady and deep.

“Marco,” I begin. “There’s something I need to know.”

He stirs, his arm tightening around me. “Anything, Gia.”

“Did you really mean it”—I pause, collecting the courage that scatters like shadows at dawn—“when you said I could have physical relationships with other men?”

He exhales a long breath that seems to carry the weight of his thoughts. “I told you I will never lie to you,” he says finally, his voice firm despite the vulnerability I hear lacing the edges. “If that’s what it takes for you to be happy, I mean what I said.”

“I hope I don’t regret this, but yes,” I say.

He looks at me with a puzzled expression. “Yes? Yes to what?”

“Yes to you, to us, to this fucked-up, crazy marriage you’re proposing,” I answer, the word a key turning in a lock.

“Seriously?” he asks with a hopeful expression on his face.

I nod. “I know it wasn’t easy to let me take control like I did tonight.”

He tilts his head. “It was definitely new for me.”

“I want you to know that any man willing to make himself vulnerable like that is special, without question. On top of that, the fact that you’re willing to put my happiness and needs above any insecurities you might have...” I pause and shake my head. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I actually think maybe I misjudged you.”

He smiles. “I am pretty fucking great.”

I laugh. “Dammit, if you turn out like all the others, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“As you should,” he replies with a smirk. His smile widens.

“What?” I ask, glancing down at myself, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He licks his lip, and with a large grin, he replies, “You’re my fiancée.”

I burrow my head into his chest, and he wraps his arms around me. “Shut up,” I huff.

We don’t say anything more about it. The rest of the night isn’t about our engagement. It’s about learning the ways our bodies connect. As each one of my orgasms slams into the next, I fight to push away the fear that I’m making a mistake. I don’t have the greatest track record with men breaking my heart, but I’ve also never had a man willing to be as raw with me as Marco. For now, my best option seems to be to proceed with cautious optimism.

Chapter Six

Marco

Sunlight seeps through the sheer curtains, casting lines of warmth across Gia’s bare skin. The weight of an arm draped across my chest grounds me to the present. Her steady breath feathers against my flesh. I blink slowly, exhaustion surrounding me from every side. The reality of last night sits with me, and I wonder if I imagined the moment Gia agreed to marry me. If I didn’t imagine it, does she regret it?

---