Page 4 of The Don's Eternal Vows

"Mi amore," he murmurs, kissing my inner thigh before positioning himself between me. "Non abbiamo ancora finito." - We aren’t done yet.

“Meno Male!” - Thank goodness for that - I break into a sultry smile, and my gaze falls to his perfect torso, towering over me. Even at 34, he’s got the body to make any woman go wild. I curve my hands around his neck, clawing at him almost as I draw him in.

He positions himself, his warm length pressing against my entrance, flicking against me with a teasing promise.

"Gianni," I murmur his name, a plea in my voice.

He meets my pleading gaze for a moment and then buries himself inside me in one smooth motion. I gasp, the sensation of him filling me completely overwhelming. I'm his body and soul, and this moment reminds me of that.

His eyes meet mine again, and there's an animalistic hunger in them. His thrusts are slow at first, building up a rhythm, and then our bodies begin to slap together; he moves faster, deeper, harder.

With each slam, my body rises further up the bed, and I meet his gaze with ferocious intent for more, my eyes wide with desperation. I match his frenzied rhythm by lifting my hips at each thrust, our bodies becoming a perfect match.

His hands grip my waist, and he ravages me, our hips slapping against each other.

“Gianni,” I moan, throwing back my head when he hits a particularly spectacular spot.

"Dio mio," Gianni growls, his eyes glittering with hunger, his gaze never straying from mine. "You are mine, Genoveva."

“Yours,” I whisper. “All yours.”

The next thing I know, he throws my legs over his shoulders, pushing my back further into the bed. I close my eyes and clutchthe sheets, the sweat gleaming on my skin, and feel his cock hit me further up if that even was possible.

His thrusts become relentless, his body demanding control, pushing deeper and harder into me with every slam. The bed groans beneath us as pleasure courses through me in a wave.

I feel him claim me, and when I open his eyes, I see his frame towering over me, so damn powerful that I could orgasm on the sight alone. I feel the intensity building, just from how handsome he looks with those sculpted arms now holding my waist, and when he tells me I’mthe sexiest woman alive, his words stoke a fire within.

My hands grip tight around his back, my nails digging into his skin as the orgasm begins to build once again.

“Oh my god, I’m going to come, Gianni,” I whimper, my voice ragged.

He commands my call, thrusting harder, the bed shaking beneath us now. He locks his eyes on mine. “Genoveva!” he growls, the sound of my name on his sweet lips lifting me to new heights of ecstasy.

With a cry, I crest the wave of pleasure, my body writhing beneath him as he brings me to the edge. I'm lost in the frenzy, my heart pounding wildly with every thrust - each one like a shot of pure bliss. My orgasm overflows like wine into every nerve and vein, knocking the wind out of my lungs, closing down every system such that I think I might drown in it.

Gianni groans, his face twisting with ecstasy, and then I feel him throb, erupting within me, making us one.

We lie entwined, sweat cooling on our skin. The room is quiet, save for our soft breathing. Gianni pulls me closer, his muscular arm snaking around my waist. His chest rumbles against my back as he speaks.

"Ti amo, mia regina," he whispers, his gravelly voice sending shivers down my spine. "You are my heart, my soul."

I nestle deeper into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his body. "I know," I murmur, a smile playing on my lips.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on my hip. "Do you now?"

I turn to face him, meeting his intense gaze. "I've always known, Gianni. Even when we were kids."

“From friendship to life partners,” he smiles, gently squeezing my hand as his eyes drift to another time. Since we got married, we’ve ruled together, side by side, and our lives have become one in every sense of the word. In a world where women don’t know when the sun rises and where the moon sets, he made me his sounding board.

I reach out and trace that perfect jawline, bringing him back to the present. He shakes his head as though exiting a trance, and his eyes fall to the gorgeous six-carat emerald adorning my finger—a gift from yesterday.

Its brilliance catches the first rays of dawn, casting tiny green flecks across Gianni's chest. I twist it, feeling its weight, the cool metal a stark contrast to my flushed skin.

"You outdid yourself with this," I murmur, admiring how it sparkles.

“Only the best for my queen,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead drowsily.

I, too, feel the exhaustion. I lay down now on my side of the bed, but he takes my hand in his. The last thing I see before I fall asleep is him eyeing the ring with a smile on his finger, carefully brushing it over and over again.

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