Page 83 of Blinded By The Sun
King
Ciro wasn’t lying when he said he could teach me a little something or two when it comes to dancing. I have never laughed so hard and enjoyed myself like I do with our first dance. I thought Ciro’s serious demeanor would make him hesitant, but this man doesn’t care about anyone else. He places his hands on my hips and pulls me close to him. He dances, moving to the rhythm perfectly, and I can’t help but be even more in love with him.
After the dance, Ciro grabs my chin and kisses me with promise for more later. I don’t know if my body will ever tire of him. He lets me go and looks at me, ravenously. “You look fucking delectable, my toy.” His tone drops an octave and I shudder. “I’d fuck you if I didn’t want you to meet your in-laws. My parents can’t wait to meet you, but after all the cutting cake bullshit, I’ll have my version of cake topping. I’ve got a sweet fucking tooth and you need to feed my addiction.” He leans in and bites my neck.
He interlocks his fingers with mine and he leads me towards where his parents are sitting. I love that the wedding isn’t filled with people we don’t know or that it’s in an insanely enormous hall. The hall is a decent size, but I can tell that it’s expensive as hell. Only Alex would book a hall in Caesar’s palace just to fit the theme of our reincarnations.
“My mama, Corina and my Papa, Fabrizio… meet your daughter-in-law, the woman that will give you an abundance of grandchildren.” Ciro announces me.
He pulls me closer and his mother stands. She looks at me and I can tell that she is a kind-hearted woman. She moves closer and cups my face in her hands. Ciro’s mother must’ve been like a model in her young age because she still very much looks like one. “You, my dear, are beautiful as ever,” she says what I assume is an entire sentence in Italian that I don’t understand.
“She says that the window to your soul is open and she can see how good of a soul you have. That she wishes nothing but happiness in our marriage.” Ciro translates.
I blush and look down. “Thank you.” I say.
She lifts my head. “You are a queen, never look down and don’t let anyone tell you that you need to bow. Never bow, my dear. You are now a Sarkozy. You are family.” she says.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I rush into her arms. “Thank you.”
Ciro’s mother laughs and holds me tight against her person.
“Again, with the hogging, eh?” I see Ciro’s dad as he comes behind his wife. “Well, I guess I’ll just get in on this hug. Welcome to the family, Kingsley Sarkozy. We’ve always got your back.”
I smile at him. He looks so much like Ciro except with grayer hair. “Thank you and I’m happy to be part of the family,” I say, meaning it.
“Can I cut in?” I hear a voice that I know I have to get used to hearing. I get out of Ciro’s parents’ embrace and I turn to my dad.
“Thank you for coming,” I say to him.
My father returns the smile. He holds his arms open and I don’t hesitate this time. I run into his arms and hold on to him. He rocks me. “Smoky Vanilla.” I say out loud.
“What?” My father asks.
“Your scent. I know it now. You smell like Smoky Vanilla, if there’s such a thing and I’ll never forget it.”
Ciro snickers. “Aww, my wife’s a dork,” he says.
I laugh because I am, and I know he loves me for it.
* * *
It is now time to cut the cake. I didn’t realize that wedding receptions have so many things that need to be done. I am grateful that this is the only wedding reception I’ll ever take part in where I’m the bride.
Ciro and I make our way to where the cake is, and we do as instructed to cut the cake. I take a small piece and feed it to Ciro. He bites my fingers, sending goosebumps all down my spine. My face warms and I know I’m blushing. For Ciro’s turn, he eyes me like he’s been doing all night. He looks at my breasts as if he’s about to do something very nasty, but then shakes his head. He smirks as he feeds me a small piece. He watches me as I eat the piece and as soon as I swallow, Ciro wraps his hand around my neck and kisses me like a man starved for more than the damn cake. I moan in his mouth as I hold on to him. I hear whistles and cheers as the music is turned back up again. Ciro lets me go. He stares at me again and he reaches out towards the cake. He dips his finger in the frosting of the cake and brings it to his mouth, tasting it. “This cake tastes golden as fuck but I bet it would taste like heaven around your nipples, don’t you think? Maybe even mixed in with your pussy juices, right?”
I hiccup again. What the hell? He’s my husband now, shouldn’t I be used to this?
The waiters come to take the cake away and Ciro stops one of them. “Can you give me a good chunk of my cake right now?’ He asks one of them.
“Yes, sir, but I could also serve it to you when you take a seat if it will be easier for you, ” The waiter says.
“That won’t be necessary but thank you for that. Just drop that fat, delectable piece right there, I’ve got a special sauce I like to eat my cakes with.” He instructs and as the waiter cuts the piece, Ciro steals another piece putting it in his mouth. He groans and looks at me. “You know what I’ve never done before, baby?”
“What?” I say after I’ve gotten a better hold of my hiccups.
“I’ve never eaten ass with frosting on top, I bet it’ll taste good and make you feel like you’re on fucking Mars, sugar.”
I cough, and the waiter drops the utensils on the plate, making a clattering sound.
