Bunny |18+|

Ch.44

Domenico

She's so beautiful.

Kiara sat across from me at the table, chirping along with Alia, Mama and Nonna, who sat on the opposite ends of her. Nonna invited 40 guests to the reunion tonight, but my eyes remained on the same one who took my breath away this same night five months ago.

I shamefully graced my gaze down the delicate column of her neck and across the smooth path of her shoulders and chest. I've seen that suit of skin countless times before in the comfort of her own privacy. I've seen many from others.

But her form tonight was something too holy to even set my eyes on.

Luxury suited Kiara, and I'd do anything to keep that silk of privilege sewn on her.

My stomach had grown full ages ago when nothing but temptations piled up in the very pit of my stomach. A few of my cousins had stared shamelessly, others had given her looks driven by dripping envy. I loved my family, I did, but the only eyes that should've been on her were mine.

Mine.

The steak on my plate, sided by the pasta weren't what got my stomach upset. It was Kiara, and the pretty meal sitting between her legs just waiting for me to eat.

I licked my lips, eventually snapping myself out of that daze before I went back to cutting the meat.

It was funny, really, knowing the life I had before Kiara ever came along. Love wasn't a word that ever came to my mind, all that really filled it to its tipping point was escape, release, repeat. Nothing more, nothing less—and it was obvious with how tainted Lyla's views were on her reluctancy to believe we are truly fucking done.

Women used to wear all sorts of dresses around me—all so dramatically cut low that they'd hike up to the hips and slip the hem down. What's more: it was an act accustomed to the likes of my own men—familiar, relative and mutual. How then, to explain my fucking possessiveness over a woman wearing the most modest of dresses?

Madness. Utter madness.

Kiara looked up from her plate, one of her cheeks full of food and only squished further to hold the smile growing on pretty face.

'Let me kiss you' were the words piling in my throat.

She smiled, swallowing down her food before she looked down to the food before me, then back to my face, "You're all red," she mouthed.

The lid on my right twitched and I gave her a knowing smirk, reaching beneath the table to tug and adjust my strained pants. She giggled.

Little fucking vixen.

A disrupting buzz woke me from my haze and I slid my hand down to my pocket, feeling my phone vibrate. Pulling the device out I glanced down at Camillo's name on the caller ID, and with a grunt that cleared my throat I stood up shooting Kiara an apologetic glance before I walked outside to take it.

Beep. "Ciao?" I spoke, looking back towards the house before I walked over, leaning against one of the light poles near the garden.

"Is Papa there?" He probed, his tone heavy with apprehension. Camillo was a weird man, usually only calling me to either fuck around or give me a vague update on anything going on back in New York. I turned my head to look back at Papa, only to meet the curious eyes of the man himself before he stood up and walked towards the glass doors.