Italian Coffee House [BWWM]

- C h a p t e r 35 -

Ciao my loves,

The waiting is over. I hope y'all enjoy this chap. Things are heating up to the nth degree. STAY TUNED to see what happens. I pray my God that you like it.

Here's the Thirty-fifth installation of Italian Coffee House.

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ENJOY XD. I'm exceedingly grateful to each and everyone of you who has supported me thus far. Just hang in there. Love you guys.

XO,
Ang

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Niccolò's Chocolate House

Chapter 35

*Nick*

God knows, I was probably as much of an idiot -- as there was immense love, I'd grown to possess for that woman.

Before we'd received the amazing news, even then, it was imaginative to think that any other living soul would ever sink their clutches into my heart the way Ada had. More so, now that she carried all of my world within her gorgeous petit soma. Even now, at the annual wine-tasting event, I was plagued by thoughts of no other. Intimate fragments of the last night's rabid closeness -- undisclosed -- in the confines of our bedchamber. The retention caused hairs at the nape of my neck to stand at attention, as my body became electrified with need.

Lord knows I've done some sinful things in my time, but nothing as wicked as the things I did to her. The image of her sultry form writhing beneath me, near coaxed a primal groan from deep within my chest. Her fervent moans echoed in my cranium, haunting me despite my best attempts to salvage my restraint, as the need to be with my wife grew exponentially. Such a power she wielded over me. Even if she weren't here by my side. Even if she didn't know it. Wherever or whenever, I was absolutely powerless against the intense pull, each and every thought playing upon my heart like that of a stringed quartet. Likely, I would never feel anything quite like it ever again.

Our relationship may have started with my blackmailing her into marriage, but soon I came to understand that Ada was it for me. I was doomed never to love another the way I loved her.

I swirled the glass of wine in my hand a moment, inhaling the potable liquid detecting the pleasant distinct hints of chocolate, roses and smoked bacon among other things. Later, sampling its essence. God knows, even the brief sensation, the aroma that flooded my senses, reminded me of her. She was so sensual, so raw, so feral ... and I loved it. A more compatible woman for me would never exist.

The task was mine to repair what foolery I'd displayed towards her, over the notion of Papa learning of our arrangement. Evidently, I'd grown fond of the man but it wasn't so much him finding out as it was what his reaction might be that alarmed me. Now that I'd found my beautiful bride, in all the chaos, I knew I wouldn't be caught alive without her. If merely surviving, could be called the same. I couldn't bare the thought of her father forbidding me to see her. The fear of losing her, proved to be too much and shook me, more than anything else.

I recalled that moment I'd upset her, the livid expression on her face, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. The make-up sex was mind-blowing in its own right, but I couldn't bare the thought of her being consumed with untried anger towards me. Even if she managed to make it possibly the most arousing sentiment to ever cross her features. It was an incredibly sexy look on her, but I wouldn't tell her that, lest I be scolded with regard to my reaction. I found myself chuckling at thought undeterred by my best efforts to keep a low profile, winning me a few dirty looks from what few zealots had gathered for the affair. Honestly, I couldn't care less about what the other guests thought of me.