The moment her orgasm hits her, she cries out my name, and her pussy flutters around me. I succumb to my own release, letting myself spill into her over and over again.
I don’t know what came over me, but she brings out my possessive side. And I want her to grow round with our child, securing the family ties and my own line. I hope they’ve not let her be on any kind of birth control. I’ve never tried to get anyone pregnant, and I’ve never had any mistakes, but we’re both young. I don’t think it will take long to get her pregnant.
I collapse on top of her, and she laughs, keeping her legs tied tightly around me and her arms around my neck. She kisses my hair and breathes me in.
“You want children,” she states. It’s not a question.
“I do.”
“Not only because we are expected to produce children?”
I prop myself up on my elbows and look down at her.
“I’ve always wanted children,” I tell her. “But carrying on the family line does play a huge part, I won’t lie. It’s been drilled into me since I was a kid that it’s what is expected of me.”
“And of me as well,” she says. “But I also have always wanted to be a mother.” She smiles up at me, and I kiss her softly until she pulls away to yawn.
“You’re tired. Let me help you clean up.”
I pull out of her and quickly pick her up to carry her to the bathroom before we can make any more of a mess on the bed. When I glance back, there’s a red smear on the crisp white bedsheets, and I wish I could burn it. The thought of having anyone see anything to do with our private moments hurts me because I’m afraid it may hurt her.
“You don’t have to help me,” she says sleepily.
“I don’t have to,” I tell her, sitting her down on the vanity. “But I want to. Sit here a moment. I’ll get the shower ready.”
CHAPTER NINE
I can tell she’s never been taken care of like this. She has a quiet smile across her lips, and she gives me soft sighs and little moans when I rinse her hair or rub her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup at the ceremony, but when I wipe it away from her face, her eyelashes turn white and her cheeks pale.
When she opens her eyes to look at me, I’m struck again by her beauty. I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as her. Those eyelashes frame her wide eyes perfectly. She’s like my own personal Aphrodite coming out of the sea.
We rinse off and reluctantly leave the cocoon of warmth. I help dry her off, and then she goes through her skin regime. As she massages the serums into her skin with a little roller she tells me is good for puffiness, I use a wide comb to detangle her translucent hair.
“I’m dead on my feet,” she says as she meets my eyes in the mirror. She does look tired, and I know I’ve kept her up too late after a long day.
“Let’s get you to bed, then!” I sweep her off her feet, and she giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck. She kicks her legs gently before I sit her down on the side of the bed.
“Would there be another quilt or blanket somewhere close?” I ask her as I pull off the fluffy comforter we’ve made a mess of.
“There should be a trunk in that closet,” she says, pointing to a door in the corner of the room. I find it easily and toss the soiled comforter on the floor and out of the way. She’s tucked into the thin sheet when I come back to toss the thicker blanket over her.
“Grazie.”
Before joining her, I take a moment to look out the doors that lead to the large balcony. The moon is high, and the stars are bright out here in the middle of the grove. It smells sweet and fresh from all the orange blossoms, and I can see why everyone is so enchanted with this place. It would’ve been far more peaceful growing up here.
I hear Aurora shuffle on the bed behind me.
“Come to bed,” she says through a yawn.
“What was it like growing up here?” I close the doors and make a show of crawling over her to my side of the bed. It earns me more laughter before she turns on her side to face me.
“I do not think I am the person to ask.”
I roll over, turn the bedside lamp off, and then roll back over to face her. Pulling her closer, I kiss her forehead.
“You are the exact person I want to ask,” I tell her, my voice matching the quiet of the room. “I want to know what you were like as a child, what your life was like. I imagine that growing up with so much room to roam that it would have been better than growing up in dry heat and concrete buildings.”
“Mm.” She nods. “I suppose. When I was left on my own, I would sneak away and run through the groves until I got far enough away that I would be able to stay hidden for an hour or so.” She sighs and rolls onto her back. “I would always find a big tree with a lot of shade and read or just lie there and make shapes with the clouds.”
“The air is so fresh,” I tell her. “Every time I step outside back home, I get a lovely whiff of pavement and rotting garbage.”
“And that is where you are taking me?” she asks, her voice sounding outraged and terrified.
“It’s where my home is, but now that I have you, I’m willing to go wherever you want. We can find a place in the suburbs or drive through the mountains until we reach the ocean and buy the first mansion you fall in love with.” I pull her so close to my chest that I can feel her heartbeat. “And honestly, the further away we can get from my father, the happier I’ll be.”
“You’re not close with your family?”
I groan.
“We have an interesting relationship,” I admit. “Neither of my parents were all too present when I was growing up. And my father expected a lot of me when I was still very young.”
“The men in these families do not have it easy,” she whispers, running the soft pads of her fingers over my forearm. “I’ve seen a lot of things that my father failed to keep behind closed doors.”
“Are you close to your family? Everyone seemed to love you.” I kiss her temple.
“I am very close to my mamma,” she tells me. “And my papà loves me, but I know that he only sees me as a pawn in a bigger game. Hence, this marriage.” Her words are light in tone, but I know what it’s like to be seen as a tool to be passed around.
“I would like to make sure our children do not feel that,” she continues. “I know we don’t really have a way out of this life, but that doesn’t mean we have to make the same mistakes as our parents.”
She yawns, and I feel her body relax even further against my own.
“I promise our children will feel all of our love. They’ll never want for anything, including affection.” I kiss her hair and smooth it back from her face as she cuddles into her pillow.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she says, her voice filled with sleep.
“No?”
“No.” A small laugh escapes her. “I was expecting an old, balding man. I was very excited to see you when I looked down the aisle and saw you. I could tell, even with my poor eyesight and the distance, that you were handsome.” She turns her head to face me. “You have kind eyes, Oscuro.”