Page 21 of Capuleto

I straddled his legs and guided him inside me. He groaned loudly, and I grabbed his face to kiss him fiercely.

The water slowed my movements, diminishing the violence I needed to slam against his pelvic floor. Yet, it hardly mattered. My husband turned me on so much that, after three bounces against his thighs, with those sin-colored dark eyes, I exploded uncontrollably.

Romeo rose, lifting me with him still impaled. Anyone else might have cracked their head getting out of the tub like that. Not him. There was no slip, just his mouth feeding on mine in an extreme need to devour my orgasm.

He laid me back on the mattress, the rhythmic swaying of his hips driving me wild.

I couldn't breathe smoothly. I was burning all the oxygen in the room.

"You are a fucking goddess to be worshiped." His compliments touched me deeply. I couldn't stop watching the reflection of my own face, twisted in pleasure, in his dark pupils. "Tell me you missed me too. Tell me I'm not the only one who feels this is getting out of hand. Tell me you feel the same madness for me," he urged, plunging deep inside. "Damn, Nikita, I think I—" I didn't let him finish. I couldn't. I wasn't ready to hear that confession.

I pushed his neck down to kiss him fiercely, desperately. His words whipped through me like the wind against the sails of a sailboat, altering the course of my wildly fluctuating thoughts.

I bit my lower lip in this delirious dive of sex and confessions. Romeo insisted.

"Nikita..."

"You're not the only one."

That was all I could say with complete honesty. His smile nearly shattered me, far more than his final thrust that left me breathless. Rough, visceral, fiery, as solid and firm as he was.

"Come with me, amore, I want us to finish together and for you to see what I feel every time I'm with you. Don't close your eyes, look for the truth hidden deep inside me," he ordered huskily.

I didn't close them, I couldn't tear them away, even though I was frightened of what I might see. That intense brown, full of determination, was too hypnotic.

I caressed his back, grasped his buttocks with my hands, and squeezed.

I bit his mouth, brushed my chest against his, and lost myself in the rhythm, ready to dive into his revelations. He didn’t need to warn me he was about to come because I knew we would reach it together, just as I was aware that the abyss beneath my feet was growing wider.

He tensed. I tensed. He shouted. I howled.

And our reflections danced to the tune of our breaths, unable to contain what I feared the most, that I was also falling in love with him, much as I didn't want to.

10

The fault lies with others

My return to Marbella caused that half an hour after "my deep bath" my mother, Massimo, Irisha, Julieta, and even Aleksa, who was still convalescent, came to pay their respects.

Everyone wanted to see how I was, especially to talk with me and understand who was behind the incident.

The doorbell rang several times in a few minutes. Romeo got up giving me a light kiss on the temple.

After our encounter, I had fallen asleep in his arms. It didn't matter that he told me he would go down and that I should keep resting, because my ears perked up at the noise of voices climbing through the stairwell hole.

I got up lazily, wrapped myself in a satin robe, slipped my feet into matching slippers, and went downstairs.

I was feeling a bit better. Romeo was right, Ana María's herbs had worked miracles and my stomach had completely settled.

I heard my husband tell our guests that it would be best to let me rest, that there would be time later for their questions. He hadn't been able to talk to me due to my condition, so he asked for a bit of patience.

His father reproached him that they had no time to waste, that every second counted as lost. Massimo was not a patient man, nor was I. Both of us preferred to face problems head-on. I knew what I had to say, I had rehearsed it a few times, both the tone and the attitude.

I had to hint without pointing fingers. Let them draw their own conclusions.

I cleared my throat lightly to draw the attention of those gathered. The whisper of satin had not been enough to make my presence known. Romeo looked at me worriedly while the others adopted different attitudes.

The first to approach was my mother. She loved to show her concern in front of others, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. She even pretended to shed a tear or two that never actually existed.

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