Page 40 of La Dolce Vita

"She's a wicked little manipulating bitch. And no. I don't hate her. I don't trust her. Those are two different things," Catalina said. She turned over and scooted in closer to him.

"She needs someone to teach her to be a better person. You're a good influence," he chuckled.

"Am I? You sure about that?" she asked and stroked his erection.

His eyes closed.

"Mmm," he said. "You can be naughty sometimes."

She rolled on top of him and sat upright. She could feel the bone of his existence grow hard and thick beneath her. It was a delicious feeling. She rubbed her sex on his length to tease him. He smiled like he always did. Between Dominic's dreamy eyes, and that sexy slant to his smile, she didn't know what feature outside of his dick she loved the best.

"Want some breakfast?" she asked.

He nodded. She lifted on her knees and dropped her hands on the headboard. Dominic scooted beneath her so the lips of her sex were above his mouth and she could sit on his face. His tongue swiped upward, and every nerve in her pelvis shuddered. Catalina dropped her forehead on the headboard. Dominic parted the cheeks of her ass and swiped the moist tip of his tongue back and forth tickling her clit. The sweetness the friction from his tongue offered was intoxicating as her body took over the job of her mind and began to respond on its own. Her breathing labored. Her hips thrust to drive her pussy up and down in small jerks over his mouth. Quick little butterfly lashes of his tongue had her sweating between her thighs and the cheeks of her ass with her body temperature spiking. He forced her to come down on his mouth harder so he could continue to tickle a climax out of her. And she peaked. She threw her head back, lips parted. The tips of her nipples brushed against the wood grain of the headboard, stirring more pleasure through her. She rode his tongue as if it were his dick.

"Domi! Oh my goodness, Domi, I love you so much. So much," she cried out before she released. She slid down his body and Dominic angled his dick so he could thrust into her. She wasn't ready. What she wanted most was to curl up around the warmth of the tremors climaxing through her body. But Dominic wanted his turn. He worked her hips for her as he thrust his dick up, in and out, fucked her while she clutched to him and struggled to breathe. Thankfully he came soon after and allowed her release. They kissed. She licked her essence from his lips and tongue. He held her hips and kept moving. He did so until there was nothing left of him inside of her to ride. Rosetta's call was forgotten. She was back in heaven.

ChapterEight

La Famiglia

Sorrento Italy

The boys danced. Little feet shuffled, and hips rocked. Mirabella clapped for her sons. The children were amped from the praise. Gino and Gianni loved music. The toddlers would stop mid-play if music was turned on. She could always calm their tantrums by turning on the radio. Once, not soon after her return from her stay in the hospital, Giovanni brought out his guitar and played it for the boys in the garden. Mirabella couldn't stop grinning with happiness that day.

"C'mon, Nico, let me teach you." Eve pulled on Nico's large hands and tried to get him to come out of his chair to dance with her. "It's easy. I promise."

He relented and stood. Like a giant out of a fable, he moved awkwardly and concentrated on not stepping on little Eve. She held on to his fingers and rocked side to side. Nico struggled to be graceful, he managed. He wasn't built for dancing. Mirabella looked on amused.

"She loves him so much," Cecilia said.

"Eve, yes, she does," Mirabella said.

"Not as much as me," Cecilia murmured and blushed. Nico glanced up and winked for his bride. Mirabella had missed their wedding. She was hospitalized when they exchanged vows. Giovanni was present. He told her Cecilia was beautiful, and Catalina was one of her bridesmaids. As a gift, she and Giovanni bought them a villa not far from Melanzana. It had land they could build upon and raise a family. Cecilia had confided that she wanted to have babies as soon as possible. Mirabella hoped her children grew fast because Cecilia was a godsend to her and would be an excellent mother.

The moment Mirabella stepped closer to Giovanni he pulled her down by the wrist, and she dropped on his lap.

"Your daughter is turning into a ballerina," she said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the scruff along his jaw.

"Nico is no ballet dancer," Giovanni noted.

Mirabella glanced over in time to see Eve take a leap for Nico. He picked her up and spun her around and then brought her back down.

"You know she has a crush on him," Mirabella whispered in her husband’s ear.

"No. She only loves Papa," Giovanni said. "That's ridiculous."

Mirabella kissed his jaw and wiped off the stain of lipstick. "About last night... and this morning," she whispered in his ear. "It was sweet of you to paint my toenails." She hugged his neck and closed her eyes as she rested her forehead against the side of his face. Giovanni didn't answer, but she could feel the tension in his muscular frame relax. They left his villa and returned to their children. She put them to bed and showered. He wanted to rub lotion over her body and then he listened to her talk about the exciting changes she made in her upcoming fashion event as he painted her toes.

"So wonderful," she whispered again. "I'm so in love with you."

"No nightmares?" he asked.

"Not anymore. Not as long as I have you," she kissed his jaw more than once. "The worst has passed. I'm fine now."

"You will always have me, Bella," he said. They were reunited in the large wicker chair reserved for her husband on the outdoor terrace that faced the gardens. The family had gathered as they often did before and after dinner. This included his men. It was typical in the region they lived. The music was Mirabella's idea. She knew how much Giovanni loved to see his children happy.

Beyond the terrace steps, the flowers of Sorrento blossomed in the most vibrant array of colors. And if one were to look hard they would see tiny pink and lime butterflies bouncing off purple petals. The honeybees were fat. Each buzzed around lazily, bumping into the open blooms as if drunk off nectar. How could such beauty not inspire an artist? At that moment Mirabella rediscovered her inspiration to create, not only fashion but love in their image. She cast her gaze to her children and wondered if another baby could ever be possible for them. He was so happy when she carried the twins.

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