Twisted Marriage

36

Rio Volkov
Mesmerization is an understatement for what I'm currently feeling. Heat pumps through my blood harsher as Alessandra slowly steps out of her room. Our room.

At least that's what it was. I don't let my mind twirl there simply because I'm too busy ogling my wife. She looks up at me. Her eyes carrying something I can't indicate.

"What do you think?" My wife isn't exactly one who shies away easily. But her cheeks heat up with a red hue. Making her look adorable. I rake my mind. Flipping through all three languages I speak. Searching for a word. I choose the most cliche simple one yet the most descriptive of what I'm seeing.

"Beautiful." I breathe out, my tone latching at the end, perfectly monitoring the way my breaths are in fact not steady anymore. Jesus Christ. She raises an eyebrow. A hard expression crossing over her features.

My lips tip upward. "You know I've never been great with words, darling." And I haven't . "Then show me with actio—" she doesn't even finish the request before my lips are on hers.

Fuck, my body comes alive, undone. At the  feeling of her beneath me. Her lips soft. Her breaths as ragged as mine. Her heartbeats frantic beneath me. Matching the madness that's up my mind.

It's been four whole days since I last felt her in my hold. And it's been more than a week since I kissed her. In some ways. It seems like those days were useless to me. Without her in sight.

In other ways. They made me realize how much I fucking love her. How suffocating it is without her. How pathetic life is when she isn't around. And it also made me wonder how I spent days before this marriage.

My day meant nothing.
Repetitive routine.
Work. Eat. Sleep.
And repeat.

"I missed you so fucking much, Alessandra." I rasp under my breath, she sucks in one, staring at me with her lips parted. Flushed. And her eyes glistening. She gulps.

I don't know what it was that made her come back. But I'm damn sure it isn't the dress. "Me too." It's a low whisper, one I strain my ears to make out. I rest my forehead against hers. Her hot breaths on my neck. My hands cupping her nape.

"Don't leave me again, babe." I plead and It sounds like a broken whisper.
"I won't." She promises with the same tone.

Before she looks up at me one more time, pressing her lips again to mine, this time, the kiss is soft, gentle, and slow. Yet the intensity of it makes me clash through waves of heat.

"I love you, Rio." She mumbles between the kisses.
My heart flutters. My muscles constructing.
"I love you more." I rasp.

Her chest rises harshly with breaths, her breasts in view. My eyes take her in. All of her. Shameless about it, my hands descending down her body as they tighten against her hips.

She's in a dress.
A black one that molds to her like a pair of gloves.
It's nothing too bold. Since I picked it out.

I don't want her uncomfortable in the dress, especially since she isn't one to wear them, the reason stays unknown. It's sleeveless. Has a v-neckline, and it's tight around her body. With heels on. She looks fierce. She looks fucking stunning. She looks like mine.

"You didn't compliment me enough." She raises an eyebrow, her usual tone making its way back, it washes delight over me in a way I never thought would happen.

Would I ever imagine myself coming back to life just because Alessandra is back to her bossy self? Not in a million years. But I'm not minding it one bit.

"I'm kinda contemplating convincing you that suits are better cause..." my hands tighten on her hips and I hear the hitch in her breath. I let my eyes trailing over her body as if making a point.