Page 141 of Immoral

Adrenaline explodes in all my cells. I match his thrusts, whimpering, dizzy, seeing white light.

Gianni grows harder inside me. His shaft teases my walls, adding to my chaos of endorphins. He thrusts deeper, groans, then mumbles, "Mine, tesoro. Your pussy. Your heart. Your goddamn soul. It's all mine."

"Yes, baby. I'm yours," I choke out, right as my eyes roll back and an earthquake rips through my body.

"That's it, tesoro. Fuuuck, that's it. Squeeze your tight pussy on my cock," he growls, changing the speed of his thumb on my clit, which only extends my orgasm.

"Oh! Baby!" I cry out, shaking harder.

"I need to taste you," he states then pushes me off him and onto the seat.

"No! Oh God! I need you back in me," I beg.

He drops to his knees, widens my legs, and asserts, "You need my mouth on you." His tongue fills my body, and I moan. He slides it up until it's on my clit, teasing me with a slow flick.

"Oh shit! Baby, please!" I plead again, wanting another high like a junkie.

Two fingers slide inside me. He scissors then curls them.

"Oh," I breathe.

His lips lightly suck on my clit, then he creates a pattern of flicking and sucking while taunting my G-spot.

Everything intensifies, igniting a heat I've never felt before. My skin glistens, blushing from the fire burning inside me. And then the world doesn't exist anymore. It's Gianni and me and an orgasm train that he's the conductor of, controlling my body like he owns it.

But I guess he does.

He always has.

He's Gianni Marino, and I'm Mrs. Gianni Marino. We belong together, no matter what happened in the past. My heart is his forever, and I finally have no doubt I'll always have his.

When my voice becomes hoarse and my cries barely audible, he retreats. He wipes his mouth on his forearm then moves his lips an inch from mine. His hand slides through my hair, and he asks, "Will you marry me?"

I panic and freeze. Was everything on the plane not real? Am I not married to him? Did he somehow just make it all seem legal? I fret, "We aren't married?"

He nods. "We are. But I want new vows."

"What do you mean? I actually loved your vows," I confess.

He arches his eyebrows. "Not mine. I want new ones from you. I want to re-marry you in front of our families, friends, everyone who means anything to us. I want us to have the wedding we should have had years ago."

I gape at him, taking it all in.

His face falls. "You don't want to?"

I smile and blink back tears then hold his head. I kiss him. "Yes, I'll marry you. And I want to give you new vows."

"You do?" he asks.

"Yes. And I promise I'll love, cherish, and honor you until the day you die," I pledge, and I mean it. No other sentence has ever been so important to me. Until the day I die, I'll relish the fact that no one will ever love me harder than Gianni Marino.

Somehow, I got everything in life I've ever wanted.

I got him.

Epilogue

Gianni

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