Page 129 of King of Obsession

‘Who are you?’ I asked him at one point.

‘Being a Maggiore in the Italian Alpine units meant I learned much about stringing up traps,’ he murmured.

I stared, awed and also unsettled by his single-minded focus. It was a stark reminder of the dangerous world he came from, the brutal life he’d left behind. But it was a testament to his fierce willpower to protect what was ours.

When night fell, we retired to the farmhouse, the crackling fire and soft lamplight casting a warm glow over the rustic room.

Alessio surprised me with a special dinner. The scent of garlic and butter wafted through the air, making my mouth water and my stomach growl.

‘What’s all this?’ I asked, wandering into the kitchen.

My golden lion stood at the stove, stirring a pot of bubbling pasta with a look of intense concentration on his face.

He glanced up at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ‘It’s a surprise,’ he said, his voice low and warm. ‘An old famiglia recipe, straight from the heart of Naples.’

I leaned against the counter, watching him work. There was something almost hypnotic about how he moved, his hands sure and steady as he chopped mushrooms and grated cheese. I could have observed him forever, lost in the rhythm of his motions and the play of muscles beneath his skin.

‘It’s called ‘miezi paccheri alla capa ‘e’ mbrello,’ he said, the words rolling off his tongue like a song. ‘Pasta with mushrooms and cream. Simple, but delicious.’

My stomach growled again, louder this time, and he chuckled. ‘Patience, amore mio,’ he murmured, brushing a kissagainst my temple. ‘Good things come to those who wait.’

And so I waited, the anticipation building.

When, at last, he set a steaming plate of pasta before me, the aroma was intoxicating, the flavors bursting on my tongue like fireworks.

‘Alessio,’ I breathed, my eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy. ‘This is incredible.’

He smirked, looking pleased with himself. ‘I told you,’ he said, twirling his fork in his food. ‘Simple, but delicious.’

We ate in silence for a few moments, savoring every bite. I couldn’t remember when I’d savored something so perfect, so satisfying, imbued with Alessio’s love and passion.

‘Thank you,’ I said at last, reaching across the table to take his hand in mine. ‘For this, for everything. I don’t know what I did to justify you, but I’m so grateful.’

He squeezed my fingers, his eyes soft and warm in the candlelight. ‘You deserve the world, mia sola mio,’ he murmured. ‘And I intend to give it to you, one meal at a time.’

I laughed, my heart so full it overflowed with emotion. ‘If this is what your pasta does to me, I can’t imagine what other tricks you have up your sleeve.’

Alessio’s grin turned wicked, his eyes smoldering. ‘Oh, I have plenty of tricks,’ he purred, his voice low and sultry. ‘But those are best saved for dessert, don’t you think?’

I shivered, heat pooling in my belly at the promise in his words. ‘Dessert, huh?’ I managed, my mouth dry. ‘And what did you have in mind for that?’

He leaned forward, his breath warm on my ear. ‘Let me surprise you,’ he whispered, nipping at my earlobe. ‘But first, we finish this masterpiece of a meal.’

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. We ate the rest ofour pasta in charged silence, the air between us thick with anticipation. Every brush of Alessio’s foot on my leg under the table sent sparks skittering across my skin, each heated glance stoking the flames of my desire.

By the time our plates were clean, I was vibrating with need. Alessio stood, holding his hand to me with a smoldering look that made my knees weak. I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet and into his arms.

‘Now,’ he growled, his lips brushing against mine. ‘Let me show you just how sweet dessert can be.’

That night, he took our loving to a new level, one so stratospheric I thought I’d never come down.

The pale moonlight streaming through the window highlighted the curves of our entwined bodies, slick with sweat and glowing in the dim light. My lover’s face was a mask of concentration and desire as he pleasured me.

His tongue traced a path down my belly, his hand gripping my backside and pulling me down onto him, his hand moving in rhythmic motions between my thighs.

‘I want to go so deep in you, mia sola, and make you feel like you’ve never done before.’

‘How?’ I whispered. ‘How can you possibly take me higher?’

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