Rebecca Downhill (Becca) has known nothing in her life but a strict father who is involved in businesses with the Italian mafia in NY, an absent mother who has taught her to be obedient and fulfill her duties towards the family, and a twelve years o...
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Her eyes are floating in tears, staring at me and rolling on every inch of my face.
Her hand cups my face and she drags herself upper, stretching herself and pulling me out of her.
She presses her lips on mine in a passionate, light kiss, molding my lips, licking and nipping, and she almost makes me forget about my question.
"Sorry to interrupt your there but... I believe I need an answer," I chuckled against her lips.
"Do you? Really, Lucas?" she whispers in a sensual voice. "No, love," she says, and my face darkens in a blink. My entire body hardens, and I'm already fuming.
What the fuck is she saying?
"You don't need an answer because deep down you know I belong to you, and you'll never accept less than that. You deserve an answer, love. And that answer is yes, I'll be your wife again," she smiles. "Without second thoughts, without ever regretting it, without ever wishing otherwise," she continues and kisses me again.
Now let me tell you, I might be the most dangerous man in NY, I might be the most ruthless murderer having no remorse, I might be the one controlling the deals and making the Italians or Russians shake in fear in front of me but this woman, this tiny woman with green eyes and lips incredibly sensual can turn my world upside down with just a fucking word. She has me wrapped around her fingers. I'm whipped, head over ears, and this is why she can raise my highest fears with just one look.
"And the mother of my kids," I complete her.
"And the mother of your kids..." she whispers.
"And my best friend."
"And your best friend..."
"And my partner in crime." I chuckled.
"Now, Mr. Tate, don't push your luck," she says, and I laugh loudly and healthily, shaking my chest and her body altogether. "I did give you my answer. Now you give me what is mine," she continues, spreading the fingers of her left hand under my nose, wiggling the rightful owner of the ring.
I roll her on her back and kiss her passionately until she gasps for air.
I grab her left hand and pepper kisses on each of her knuckles before I slip the ring into its proper place.
She holds the arm straight up and admired the new rock on her finger.
"It's beautiful," she says.
"You are beautiful," I whispered, my lips glued to the skin of her chest. "You are my beautiful wife, the light in the darkness of my life, my everything, and my forever," I say, and she cups my face in her tiny palms.
"I'll always be yours, Lucas. Always."
Right here and now I feel like ruling the world. Because she is my world.
