Page 65 of Sins of Bliss

Dancing my fingers across the hard ridges of his chest, I trace every dip and groove of muscle, simply appreciating the man in front of me.

It feels surreal that less than twenty-four hours ago I was getting ready to marry a man I despised, only to protect the one laying beside me now.

The way I love Sly scares me. It terrifies me that it’s all-consuming.

Undeniable.

Unconditional.

I thought this love only existed inside the pages of books, but to truly know it and feel it, is beyond any realm of reality.

I was willing to give up my life for him. I still am, but feeling his skin against mine reminds me that our lives are now joined.

He’s my husband.

I’m hiswife.

And no one can take that from us.

“Mmm, good morning, piccola ladra,” Sly hums beside me, his voice thick with sleep. “Did you sleep well?”

Scooting closer, he lifts his arm so I can curl up as close as possible.

“I slept like a baby.”

“I am glad, amore mio.”

“Whose house is this?” I ask, curious about the gorgeous villa we’re staying at. When we arrived, Sly silently pulled out a key and let us in. I wanted to ask him when we came through the doors, but his lips were on mine before I could. Then he kept me thoroughly distracted the rest of the night.

A smile creeps across his face. Dipping down, he kisses my temple. “Ours.”

“Ours?”

“Sì. I purchased this home during my time abroad. It’s ours, now. What’s yours is mine.”

“Sly…”

“Shh,” he breathes, and silences me with a kiss.

Parting my lips, he steals my breath as his tongue finds my mouth and we begin our familiar rhythm. It sends an instant wave of tingles through my body, igniting my desire.

Kneading my breast, Sly’s hand engulfs it, flicking my nipple with his thumb.

“The things I want to do to you,” he growls before kissing me deeper. Rolling on top of me, his length finds its place between my legs, already as hard as granite.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I lift my hips to meet where our bodies are trying to connect, spreading my legs to allow him entry. “Please,” I shamelessly beg.

He groans, then begins lowering himself down my body, but that’s not what I want. Catching his arms, I shake my head. “No. I need you inside me. Now, Sly.”

“Piccola ladra,” he begins to argue, but my expression must be enough for him to easily relent.

His desire to give me the exact pleasure I seek is stronger than his instinct to give all the attention to only me.

Reaching between us, I wrap my hand around his shaft and begin to pump him from root to tip. His eyes darken as he looks down at me, propping himself on his forearms. “You may have the power to control me with a simple look, Vincenza, but make no mistake, I will not let you out of this bed until you are unable to walk from how shaky your legs are.”

“All I want is you inside me, Sly. Filling me up. Marking me.” My eyes roll to the back of my head as his fingers find my clit and expertly begin toying with it, alternating the pressures and ways he circles it. A long moan leaves my lips, and the rumble feels like it took some of my soul with it. “Oh my God.”

Dipping two fingers into the wetness between my thighs, he uses it to smear around my entrance and clit before pushingthem inside me. My hips lift and I suck in a harsh breath at the intrusion, but it’s quickly welcomed and my legs fall open even further.

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