Page 135 of No Saint

I thrust forward hard, hitting that sweet spot. I wasn’t going to do that thing I knew would make her squirt but soon, when I was confident in her healing I would have her drenching my thighs again. I fuck into her, burying myself while worshiping that sweet bundle of nerves.

She cries out as her pussy begins to spasm, her climax pumping through her. I fuck her through it until I peak and then roar as I come, emptying myself into her, filling her with me.

Spent, I collapse down next to her, dragging her to me.

“Dio,” I pant, “I love you,mondo mia.”

She chuckles, “I love you too.”

I roll her until she’s facing me, brushing back her sweat soaked hair, “My wife.”

“Always.”

I kiss her gently.

“I brought us wine,” I tell her, “Are you thirsty?”

She smirks, cocking a brow, “Unless you’re spitting it into my mouth.” Her tongue traces her bottom lip, “I don’t want it.”

Epilogue

The house and gardens swam with people, faces I recognized and some I didn’t. Every official was here and every single local celebrity.

The dress felt like a dream on my body, perfectly made by Sierra and I finally had a chance to wear it. Sierra had become my closest friend and her talent and skill, it felt right wearing the dress I designed and she created. I could see her now, as I stand at the patio doors, looking out into the garden that had been transformed for the evening with pop up bars and a gazebo, a band playing with the cliff top view behind them.

It had been Gabriel’s idea. A second reception, he’d called it, seeing as our first ended in blood and death.

He slides up next to me, arm snaking around my waist to pull me close, “You,moglie mia,are stunning.”

I glance down at his black tux, fitted and tailored to his broad and muscled shape and my mouth waters. We had guests to entertain and conversations to have, I tell myself, I couldn’t stand here and picture my lethal husband, naked and hard, pounding into me while I screamed, over and over…

“Ah, ah, Amelia,” He kisses my temple, “Keep those dirty thoughts going. I want to play some later.” And then he walks off, leaving me with a wink and smirk.

I shake my head.

I find Sierra, grabbing us both drinks from the server that wanders around with a tray of champagne.

“You look so good,” She smiles up at me, touching my arm, “So good.”

It was more than the dress. More than my make-up and hair. I was happy.

I close my eyes against the sting of tears, “Thank you.”

“Lincoln!”

My head snaps around, finding Camille and Enzo chasing my son as he toddles through the crowd in a tiny little suit. I laugh when he beelines for me, this big, chubby smile on his face. I pluck him from the ground and clutch him to my chest, “My boy,” I whisper, “I love you.”

“Momma,” he babbles.

I kiss his cheek, but he wiggles relentlessly so I put him down, “I’ve got him,” Camille beams, kissing my cheek, “I’ve missed doing this.”

I laugh, “Thank you.”

“Always,” She smiles at me before chasing my son again, her laugh infectious.

Enzo grunts at me, earning an eyeroll from Sierra before he kisses my cheek and too, disappears.

The band moves into a slower song.

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