Arranged marriage turned out to be all they could ever dream of and more: love, wildly burning passion that knows no bounds, beautiful children, dream home, valuable legacy, incredible heritage, successful empires that were built side by side.
What...
"We need to stop by a book store to get Max a couple of books for school, vita mia. They are beginning French literature at school, he wants a few books to read."- I told Leo, exiting our bathroom with a face mask on my face.
"Of course, mio amato tesoro. We can go after school and he will choose whatever he wants."- replied Leo, palming my bum as I stood between his legs while he is sitting on our bed, making no attempts of getting up.
"You are not going to get me in bed again, handsome."- I said with a smile, running my fingers through his silky, voluminous, pitch-black hair as he kissed my miniature baby bump while playfully rubbing and squeezing my bum.
"Not even me going down on you, bambina?"- he asked devilishly, laying soft kisses on my waist.
"As tempting as that sounds, no. Our babies and I are hungry, bambini have school and don't think I forgot about the bastardo."- I stated lovingly, kissing his plump lips passionately.
"You cannot be serious, amore mio: you walk around me in this and expect me not to think of sex?"- he murmured, frowning adorably, and tugged on the very alluring, red, lacy set of mine.
"Mhm, we can have a very nice, rough, hot fuck in your office at the warehouse right after the bastardo pays for his doings and when we come home, I promise to be all yours in any way you want, amore."- I said lushly, truly not opposing to him fucking the soul out of me, and he smirked, kissing me heatedly.
"That's something I can work with."- replied my sexy husband, pecking my cleave teasingly, and I smiled, giggling when he patted my bum, slapping it gently.
He watched me do my makeup and hair before getting up and doing his routine, but, of course, he didn't miss the chance to rub my bum when passing me by.
I peered in my gigantic closet and attached to my dresses, taking a sexy, black, Dior dress: slit, off shoulders and elegant V-neckline. Gorgeous heels, bag and jewellery to fit it. I sprayed my perfume on my neck and wrists and did small touch-ups to my smokey, dewy makeup before wearing a different engagement ring: a princess cut, 10 carats, an ideally clear diamond with a platinum band fully encrusted with diamonds.
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I put all I need for the day in my new, classy Hermes bag and peacefully headed out of my bags-shoes closet, idling near the doorway to admire my husband.
Dio definitely took his time when creating him.
Naturally wavy, ideally blank hair is styled to perfection. The dreamiest face with sharp features that I cannot admire enough, Dio, it should be a crime to be this handsome. That sexy, sinfully attractive stubble is knees-buckling. Smooth, dewy, clear skin is kissed by the sun sublimely.
Black, tasteful, neat Armani suit - the type of attire I am a sucker for. There is nothing like seeing his broad, mighty back, vast, manly shoulders, muscled, remarkably strong arms and finely honed chest being wrapped in that ideally white shirt and black jacket, looking extra huge, extra intimidating, extra robust and powerful. That tie, that belt, that handkerchief, that hand watch - so luxurious, so elegant and so masculine. The peeks of his sexy tattoos are enough to make me weak in my knees and remind me how good it felt to trace each of them while he cuddled me after fucking me lubriciously in our bed twice only this morning. The spicy, musky, strong scent is delectable, titillating and consuming - a sublime fit for him and the most erotic trap for me.
