by Sienna Mynx
The fear in her eyes remained, but she nodded and relaxed against the pillows. He took another look at her body and smiled. He had to hurry. Giovanni backed off the wagon and walked around to his horses naked. His dick was erect and pointed. He didn’t care. However, the animals seemed a bit uneasy over his naked appearance. It felt tribal. He imagined it must have been the way his ancestors would appear in the middle of the night from their caves while their mate waited for them inside. He took the horses’ reins and walked them over to the dead tree. They were trained farm horses that were used to staying put. But the air didn't smell right. A storm moved in. It could spook the animals. Giovanni tied the leather strap to the dead tree and checked to make sure the animals were secure. Off in the distance the lights of a farm truck flashed and then switched off. It was a signal that the area was secure.
“Gio? What’s wrong?”
“Niente è sbagliato--nothing is wrong,” he said to her. No one would get within two miles of him and his Bella for the night. They were in Ndrangheta territory, and he had to always be on his guard. Finished with his tasks he approached the wagon. He climbed on and crawled toward her.
"Everything okay?" she asked again.
"Relax," he said. He gave her a quick pop kiss and then licked her nipple. Clumps of dirt were dropped off on her feet and ankles.
"Gio? Your feet are dirty!"
He chuckled. "The rest of me is clean enough."
She made no move beneath him to rush, nor reject his actions. The only suggestion she gave to go further was her hand sliding down his left side. Their lips reconnected and his tongue pushed into her mouth. His free hand skimmed down her hip and thigh and eased between her legs.
Mirabella tried to relax. But the dark shadows in her mind surfaced, thanks to the comfort their isolation had once given her. She wasn't used to being exposed and so vulnerable. She closed her eyes and focused on him and him only. Her upper lip was warm with perspiration. Her hand went to his hip, questing. He rubbed and stroked his erection against the lips of her sex. It was strange to feel both vulnerable and protected all at once. Her lashes lifted and her gaze swept up to the heavens. So many storm clouds moved in over them, the sky was a dark shade of purples and grey. The wind blew hard at the lanterns, and they creaked as they swayed on the hooks. Giovanni was a large man, she felt dwarfed by his presence, even when laying down. She squeezed his hip when his nails clipped at the sensitive skin between her thighs. A tiny scratch that stung when he hurried his attempt to drag off her panties. Fingers traced her sex and then slid between the folds to skim over the sensitive area between. Lost to the magic of the moment, she felt everything tenfold. A single digit dipped inside her entrance and her back went stiff. His kiss became eager, hungry. The swelling fullness of her nipples brushed his chest.
"I love you so much, Bella," he panted.
She let go of his hip and pushed at his chest.
He smiled.
"I do you; you do me," she said.
“Are you still my little whore?” he asked.
She nodded. “Mi posso sedere sulla faccia--can I sit on your face?”
Giovanni nodded. He lay back against the pillows. Mirabella crawled over, but she straddled him on all fours with her ass to his face and her mouth to the head of his dick. He took hold of her thighs and drew her back and down with his tongue pointed to her distended clit. The moment it swirled and flicked over it she shuddered. Mirabella grabbed his cock by the root. It was a kind of callous intimacy, experienced only when you made love to a man like him. With every throb of her pulse, and every breath she took, she relished every stab and stroke of his tongue at her center. It was such sweet pleasure she could barely concentrate.
Giovanni gasped when the wet heat of her mouth slid down on him. The head of his dick tapped the soft wall to the back of her throat. Few women could deep-throat a man. His Bella could not at first. But the more they loved and grew in their marriage, boundaries were lowered and all pleasure explored. And when she pulled all the way back and his cock left her throat, she continued to lick his shaft before her lips glided back down and she swallowed him inch by inch.
Mirabella’s eyes rolled under her fluttering lashes. She sat fully on his face and his nose nuzzled the tender sphincter of flesh deeply seated between her buttocks. And his tongue did acrobatics from her pussy to her clit and back again. Swipes, licks, and sucking sent shocking waves of pleasure up the back of her thighs to her spine and. Her toes curled and she gargled, almost choking. She rolled her ass with several bounces and jerks as her cum blew through her in steady pulses, and he swallowed all of her greedily. She could stand no more. She let go of his dick and gasped, then cried out over and over again as her nails dug into his knees and the crushing force of her climax wrecked her body.
A sudden release of abundant happiness welled up in her chest. It spread through both of her breasts and poured warm heat out of her in a constant flow. Lightning flashed. Startled, Mirabella’s eyes stretched as she watched the light display claw across the sky with jagged edges. And then a boom of thunder quickly followed. Giovanni's tongue slicked over her clit and her lids fluttered shut again. He hadn’t stopped. Not for a second. The tip of his tongue toyed with the rigid knot of her clitoris and feathered it with soft lashes. There were no words left to describe how delicious it felt.
“Non più--no more!” she pleaded.
Lightning flashed again, brighter than the sun. She jumped, she crawled away from him. He sat up and pulled her over to him.
“We should leave,” she gasped. Not sure why the anxiety hit her so swiftly. She scrambled away from him, but he caught her by the waist and pulled her back. “Let’s leave. It’s going to storm.”
Giovanni turned her and she looked at him with confusion. He placed his hand over her heart. She sat between his legs with her legs thrown over his right thigh. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. She could feel her body stabilizing. The beat of her heart was all that was between them as thunder growled in the distance. And then he kissed her. She returned his passion and he gently pushed her back to lie against the pillows. The kiss was everlasting. He squeezed her breast and she relaxed. He then went back down her body, stopping to lick at her nipples and then dip his tongue in her navel. Mirabella’s thighs parted. Strange heat burst inside her channel, along her vaginal walls, as his tongue and mouth continued on his path with a slick slide into her vagina.
“Not again,” she moaned. Oh yes, tonight was different. She felt it in the air. Something electric. Dangerous. Again and again he eased his tongue in and out of her, as thunder roared so loudly it felt like giant footsteps upon the ground. The horses neighed and the wagon shifted.
"Giovanni?" she gasped. "Wait, please hold on."
He squeezed her breast. His mouth latched on to her distended clit and pulled. She thrust her pelvis forward instead of backward. He sucked harder. Pleasure unfurled through her nerve endings and robbed her of the ability to breathe. Her body was ready for him now. The moment stretched to an unbearable length as the first drop of rain splashed upon her forehead. She scrubbed the heels of her feet against the wagon floor, and clawed at his shoulders in an effort to control their passion. It did not work. There was absolutely no hesitancy. The pleasure spiraled so tightly around her womb she began to cry out into the night. And then came the slow, unbelievably delicious climatic release, as the heavens opened and the storm came down upon them. Startled, she gasped and turned her head to the pillow as rain soaked and poured in over the side of her face. Giovanni lifted his head and eased up over her. He pulled her down so they were pelvis to pelvis. He licked at her neck. She turned her head to speak, and his tongue dove back into her mouth. She could taste nothing but her essence on his breath.
Lightning slashed across the sky like a wicked crow’s foot, and at that exact moment he thrust into her.
Fuck the storm. Nothing would keep him from having her. With precision he guided his length inside of her warm tightn
ess. He grasped that sweetly curved thigh of hers, and hitched it higher up his waist to open her fully. His lips were gentle and tender, and careful when he made love to her juicy pussy with his mouth--but no longer. Not when he got to feel the wet heat compressing down on his dick as it pulled him deeper inside of her. Yes, it stormed. The onslaught of rain and wind slashed over their bodies, and extinguished the flames of their lanterns. And none of it mattered. He came down on her with a hard thrust and he flexed his hips to continue to drive himself in and out of her.
“Gio, please, please!” Her words were gusting against his neck as she clung to him.
When she tried to lock both her legs around his waist he interceded. He put his arms under her thighs and pushed back as far as her body would go. And then he slammed unimpeded into her. For Giovanni, self-control was slowly slipping away. He kissed and licked at her mouth that seemed to be frozen in a permanent gasp. Her hair was flat, wet, silky and pressed to her face. Her bangs were plastered to her eyes. But she kissed him back and gave in to his passion for her. Their warm naked flesh tangled as they rolled, switching positions, putting her on top.
Giovanni closed his eyes and let the rainwater, mixed with her love, cleanse him. The storm raged. Its power matched his insatiable appetite. She worked her hips and bounced on his dick, while rocking her sex over his groin. The wagon creaked and moved. The misty warmth of the storm washed over them, and turned the air into the steamy heat of the jungle. She felt like his warrior princess. She wanted to delay her pleasure and to ensure his. The water pooled around them on the back of the wagon. She could barely keep her eyes opened because her lashes were so water logged.
Giovanni gripped both halves of her butt cheeks and squeezed. He insisted she move faster. His upward hip thrusts demanded it. However, she struggled to catch her breath. Lightning struck again and she swore it nearly hit the tree they were under. The horses neighed loudly and the wagon shook. None of it mattered to her husband. A tsunami could be approaching and he wouldn't let her go. As if sensing her fear, he sat up to embrace her. He squeezed her to him. He licked at her breasts and then sucked on her nipple hard. He stretched the nub and chewed on it gently. She cried out and then released pain-edged moans as she moved up and down in his lap. His calloused hands went down her back, and he kissed and trailed his lips across her collarbone before dragging them up her neck to her chin. Their mouths reconnected in a deep loving kiss that wiped out the world around them. There was no storm. No danger. No one else on the planet but them. Her vagina pulsed and throbbed like her heart as her body suffered sensory overload. Giovanni held her tighter and tighter as his love for her was unleashed.
Oh how she wished they had made a baby in that moment.
What a child it would be.
***
The storm passed. They lay naked on wet pillows underneath a sky covered in stars. The humidity in the air and the passion shared between them, kept their bodies nice and warm.
Mirabella sighed.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I guess that talk about my hair was for nothing."
"Your hair is beautiful," he said.
"It's so peaceful here, so beautiful at night," she said. "Reminds me of times on my grandfather's farm."
He didn't respond.
"Maybe we should think of building a home out here. That way we can come more often. Zia and Rocco aren’t getting younger. It takes a toll on them going between Sorrento and here," she said.
“What if we just move Rocco and Zia to Sorrento with us.”
“Are you serious!” she shot forward. “Gio? Are you serious?”
He smiled. “I was thinking that...”
She attacked him with a hug. She kissed his face and squealed like a woman who had just an Olympic medal. "Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you. That's what I want. For them to move in."
"Okay, Bella. I'll talk to the old man. See where his head is on the subject."
She grinned and let him go. She dropped back on the soggy pillows. He rubbed her thigh and kissed her lower belly before placing his head on her lap once more.
"Tomorrow I will send for the doctor," he said.
"Dominic said she was a good doctor?" Mirabella asked.
"I haven't heard from him. We'll meet with her and decide if she is good or not. Just like you wanted."
Mirabella chuckled. "You know we can't stay here. We're wet; the horses are wet. We..."
"We'll leave when we are ready," he said and smacked her ass. "Maybe we can skip therapy."
"Huh?"
Giovanni sat up. He laid next to her on his back so he too could stare up at the stars. "I was thinking. Therapy is just about you talking through your problems, your fears. I’ve been educated. I'm a good listener. I'm your Godfather. Bring your problems to me."
"You're my husband not my Godfather. You went to law school, not medical school. And who says you're a good listener?"
He pinched her nipple, and she howled with laughter. "That hurt, Gio!"
"Talk to me. Tell me what's in your nightmares. I'll cure you."
"We tried that remember? It doesn't work. Besides, we just end up arguing."
He nodded.
"I'm sorry for that," he said.
"Don't be," she said. "Look! Oh gosh!" She pointed. Giovanni eased up on his elbows. They stared at a shooting star as it fell across the sky. Now that the storm was gone, the glacial display of the heavens stretched as far as their eyes could see.
"Make a wish," he said and rubbed her back.
"I don't need to. I have everything I ever wished for." She laid across him again. She traced her finger along his jaw. "Why don't you make a wish?"
He closed his eyes. He made a wish, she could tell. She smiled. She rested her face against his chest and drifted off to the lull of his heartbeat.
"Wishes and dreams do come true, Gio," she said.
Chapter Eighteen
Mission Impossible
Firenze, Italy
Adara never intended to fall asleep. She sat up in bed. Alone. When they arrived at the hotel, he gave her a shirt from his suitcase and told her to shower. And then he left. Before she showered she had a chance to search his things. Inside his bag she found women's jewelry, a diamond choker and expensive diamond watch. She wondered if it was stolen. There was nothing else of importance except some cd's and a CD player from American artists she had never heard of. After she showered she paced and waited. She sat on the edge of the bed and waited. Eventually, she fell asleep.
Now she was awake. The room looked empty of everything personal. The only things left behind were his two suitcases and her tattered clothing. She eased out of bed. It was then that she heard the toilet flush. Her gaze swung to the bathroom. Carlo walked out with no shirt on, and his pants unzipped. He paused and stared at her.
"I thought you were gone," she said.
"I thought you were sleep."
She opened her mouth to fire off another remark but stopped herself. Something about him looked different. His eyes were red and glassy as if he'd been drinking or crying. She knew it had to be drinking. He wasn't a man prone tears.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
She glanced to the nightstand on the other side of the bed. There was a greasy paper bag. He must have read her mind.
"A couple of sandwiches. Help yourself." He walked over to the desk. He removed his gun and sat down. He wiped at his eyes and stretched them as if to focus his vision and then began to take the weapon apart. Adara rubbed her hands at her sides, not sure what to say or do. When he didn't bother to look up again, she went to the bed and sat on it. She checked the bag for food.
"Is this where you stay?" she asked. She found she was hungrier than she initially thought. She tore a bite into the sandwich and then another. Carlo glanced up at her and returned his attention to cleaning his gun.
"No."
"Where do you live?"
"Away from here," he replied.
"Where?"
"I live in Sorrento," he said.
"Sorrento?" she repeated. "Why are you... here?" she swallowed.
"Same reason you're here. Work," he said.
"I told you I'm new to this. I don't plan on doing it long. I'm not a whore."
"Heard that before," Carlo said in a dry manner.
She kept chewing and watching him.
"Why did you bring me here? Sex?"
He stopped rubbing down the gun and cut his gaze over to her. She didn't know what was behind his intense stare. She knew his reputation. She had little doubt he brought her with him to just chat. He wanted something. It was best to know now rather than later.
"Are you going to answer me?"
"I can get sex anywhere," he said.
"Then what do you want from me?"
"For you to be quiet," he said.
Adara frowned. She finished her sandwich and disposed of the wrapping. He never glanced her way again. She sucked in a deep breath and sat back on the bed. She picked up the remote and turned on the television. It flashed on a news report. Carlo kept cleaning his gun. Adara flipped channels. She landed on a talk show. She then switched to a movie that looked interesting. She tried not to look at him, but now and then her gaze volleyed over his way.
Once he was done with reassembling his weapon, he returned to the bathroom to take a piss. The door was open. She watched him shake his dick and then go to the basin and wash his face and hands. Then he paused. He dropped his hands on the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was still and silent that way for several minutes.
She'd never seen a man appear to be so unhappy. Where was the ruthless murderer that she'd been warned about? He carried a gun not a machete. He spoke calmly, not ranting and screaming. The guy who used cleavers to butcher his victims while they were still alive had never appeared. All she saw was a guy running on empty.
He stepped back and dropped his trousers and boxers. Even from the side view of his body, she couldn't deny how magnificently toned and sculpted his physique was. She didn't see his penis. He turned to the shower and went in.
