Chapter 31: The Confession

343K 12.1K 669
                                    

A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession.

-Albert Camus

Coco Spencer's POV

I stared at him with wide eyes as he went atop of me in his bed. We barely made it into his house before we started shedding our clothes like teenagers who were first experiencing their sexual desire. After nearly making out in his car, my straight-laced husband broke our heated kiss and told me we need to go somewhere private before we might be arrested for indecency according to the Sicilian law.

So here we are half-naked in his bed with our clothes discarded starting from the door up to this bedroom. "What if your maid will find our clothes downstairs?" I asked seriously, staring at his passion-clouded eyes. "Or worse yet, your mother will find them tomorrow morning. What an embarrassing scene."

He raised an eyebrow in my direction. "You are worried about such matters? Do I need to remind you that my mother took a sudden vacation in her friend's house for a few weeks?"

"And whose fault is that?" I asked tartly. "Who kept giving me cold shoulder since I arrived in Sicily? Your mother couldn't take anymore the awkwardness during breakfast and dinner that's why she suddenly decide to take a vacation somewhere."

He rolled his eyes, running his hand to my naked thigh. "Are we going to discuss my mother or we're going to start to the main reason why we went to bed?"

"Now see here, Mister..." My words were cut off from my mouth, as he took the opportunity to claim my mouth into a searing kiss. Jesus, but this man knew how to kiss a woman expertly. I couldn't help to wonder where he practiced his skills. No, I chided myself silently. I would not go to that trail of thoughts and ruined our night.

I didn't have time to dwell with my thoughts when his hands found their way through my breast and started kneading me. I silently screamed goodness the sensation was killing me. I pulled away from his kiss and stared at him. "Do realize now that we're divorce what we're about to do is consider an affair?"

"Dio, what are you talking about?" He said in confusion. "You make it sound like it's bad and illegal."

I smiled at him gently. "But it's the truth. We're no longer husband and wife so this can be considered as an affair, right?"

"You know what?" He answered impatiently, tossing my bra on the floor. "I don't particularly care what the hell label we have now. All I know is that I want you so badly it hurts."

Before I could ask what he means by that statement. He took my hand and pressed it in his manhood. My eyes widened at the size of him at the tight boxer he wore. "You're so ready, Rafe." I smiled mischievously at him while rubbing his private member.

My effort was rewarded by a groan from him. He closed his eyes and felt the sensation of my hands in his manhood. "Y-You...need to...stop. Per favore. I will not last."

"Oh?" I asked innocently, pressing my hand harder to his length. "You don't like it when I do this?"

"Oh my God. Stop it, woman..." He moaned like an animal in pain. If I thought I had the upper hand in this foreplay I was mistaken. He managed to bite the swell of my breast just like what he did in the elevator when we first married. I was sure as hell that I would wear that thing for weeks like a marking of his possession with my body.

"Rafe...?" I inquired softly, holding it firmly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

I pulled his head lower with my free hand and whispered in his ears seductively. "Do you love me?" While the other hand was still firmly holding his prized possession. "I want to hear it from you again."

A Sicilian Marriage [PUBLISHED]Where stories live. Discover now