Freya
It's quiet throughout the house. The boys are all sleeping and Damon is resting fitfully beside me. He never seems to fully fall into a deep sleep. Even when he's resting he has to stay alert.
One of his tattooed arms is resting beneath his head, the other slung over his toned stomach.
Arella is sitting up in bed beside me, watching cartoons on my phone. She's still tired. I can see it from the way her eyes are still drooping and she keeps leaning to the side. Poor baby is going to topple over, but she kept pointing to my phone with those pleading deep blue eyes of hers.
I couldn't make myself deny her. So here I am, at nearly five in the morning, supervising Arella as she watches the cartoons Alessandro introduced her to.
"Are you ready to lay back down?" I ask, exhaustion heavy in my voice.
Arella reaches up to rub her eyes, tossing my phone onto the bed and crawling into my lap. She wordlessly pulls on my shirt with questioning eyes.
"Just a little bit, okay?" Ever since I introduced her to nursing, it's typically all she wants to drink.
Between worrying about Alessandro, stressing about Dimitri, and getting back into the groove of taking care of a toddler, I'm exhausted. There's never enough time in the day for me to accomplish what I originally set out to do.
Add a nursing toddler into the mix and nothing gets done. It doesn't help that we're all stuck in our penthouse until this Dimitri situation is resolved. Who knows how long that will take? For all I know it could take years.
As much as I love our penthouse, I don't want to spend the next few years cooped up. I'm a social person. I like to go out to brunch with my friends, shop, and have fresh air. It's basically a need more than a want.
I already feel stifled. Damon and Andrea get to go out everyday. Yeah, it's for work, but at least they get to be outside. The terrace of our penthouse is nice enough. I just miss being able to see my friends.
With a frustrated sigh, I lean back in bed and lift my shirt for Arella. She lays flat on my chest as she drinks her milk. Between swallows, she reaches up to rub her eyes.
The boys all did the same thing when they were babies. They would fall asleep on my chest while I stroked their hair or read them books. Gianni's favorite book was about fire trucks. He would make me read it over and over again until I wanted to pull my hair out.
Deep down, I regret not seeing those moments for what they were. They were precious moments that should've been cherished. It's just hard to live in the moment like that when you have two toddlers running around the house, destroying anything they can get their hands on.
I guess that's why I was so grateful that Alessandro was an easy baby. For the most part, he was content. He rarely cried and was content to rock in his swing. Looking back now, that should've been our first warning sign.
Arella pats my upper chest, clearly wanting my attention. Pushing my brooding thoughts to the side, I look down at my baby. She's pointing towards Damon while having her early morning milk snack.
"He's sleeping. We have to be quiet. Daddy has a very important job, so he needs his sleep." To emphasize the need to be quiet, I place my pointer finger against my lips.
I don't know when it happened, but Damon and I just naturally started calling ourselves Mommy and Daddy. It wasn't really something we talked about in depth. It just felt natural. Arella's our daughter, so why shouldn't she call us that? That is if she ever chooses to speak one day.
The small toddler nods, going back to nursing. I lightly scratch her back while beginning to drift off. It isn't long until I fall into a dreamless sleep.
***
Sheets rustling is what startles me awake. Blinking open my heavy eyelids, I see Damon sitting up in bed and stretching. He yawns, turning himself so he's now sitting on the edge.
"Fuck." He mumbles to himself, his voice deepened from sleep.
Standing, he heads to the bathroom. I hear him relieving himself before the water in the shower starts. Arella is still asleep on my chest with my breast still in her mouth.
Carefully unlatching her, I move her to the middle of the bed. She probably wouldn't roll off, but I surround her body with pillows anyways. Better safe than sorry.
The bathroom is filled with steam when I walk in. Damon's muscular frame is barely visible through our foggy glass shower door.
Looking through the cracked door reveals Arella sleeping form. She's curled herself into a little ball and is breathing evenly. I should have just enough time.
Stripping out of my clothes, I throw them haphazardly in the hamper, noting that my tee shirt didn't make it in. Choosing to ignore that, I open the door and step into the shower.
Damon has his head bent as hot water pelts the back of his neck and back, coming down from the waterfall shower head.
The tattoos on his back form a beautiful tapestry of black color. From large ripped and torn angel wings that start from the middle of his shoulder blades and fall to just above his ass, to the detailed snake that seems to loop around the wings, curling itself around his torso.
I step up behind him, pressing my naked body against his back and wrapping my arms around his waist. He practically melts under my touch, relaxing against my touch.
He conjoins his hands with mine, holding me just as I'm holding him. Warm air swirls around us while water cascades over our head, heating my formally cold skin.
Pressing my lips to the middle of his back, I ask, "What's wrong? Why were you so tense when I came in here?"
"There's things that's better left unknown, la mia bella moglie. These thoughts would taint your beautiful mind." His shoulders slump before he turns around in my hold.
Strong arms lift me up, holding my under both of my thighs while his mouth latches onto mine. He tastes like toothpaste and a flavor that's just his own. He kisses me with urgency, like he's afraid I'll disappear out of thin air if he separates his lips from mine.
Looping my arms around his neck, I hold him just as tightly as he's holding me. Our wet bodies slide against each other as our kisses grow more heated.
He groans against my lips, pressing my back against our our glass shower door. Between my legs I can feel his large erection hardening against my core.
Damon pulls his lips from mine, pressing them against my exposed neck while I gasp for breath. He nibbles, sucks, and bites. All the while, I'm writhing against him, trying to find friction against my aching pussy.
"I can't take it anymore. I need to fuck you." He takes one hand off of me, slamming it against the handle of the shower.
Dripping wet, he carries me into the bathroom, sitting me down on the vanity. The marble is cool against my heated skin. I slip slightly, only catching myself by grabbing Damon's shoulder.
He's too needy to even notice. He roughly grips my thighs, spreading them open. I follow his gaze to see him looking down at my pink and swollen center.
I'm open and vulnerable to his gaze. The heat in his eyes is what's enough to keep me from slamming my knees together and calling it a day.
"Fuck... You're so damn perfect." My husband groans, reaching down to give his thick erection a couple tugs.
Three twin piercings line the thick ridge of his cock. A Jacob's Ladder piercing. It's the best thing he's ever done to his body. Licking my lips, I watch him jerk himself off.
There's nothing hotter than watching my husband pleasure himself. When Damon sees where my eyes have gone, he groans throatily.
"Be quiet. Arella's asleep in the other room." I warn.
If she wakes up now and interrupts us, I think I might spontaneously combust from need. It's been too long since Damon and I have been intimate. Arella's always sleeping in our bed and he's always tired getting home from work.
A sharp tug to my nipple is what breaks me from my train of thought. Damon holds my nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, twisting slightly. Milk soaks his finger tips, the fluid not stopping him at all.
With his hand now at the base of his cock, he uses it as I guide to line himself up with my pussy. He teases me by dipping the tip in only to pull it right out.
After using his cock to slap my clit three times, he lines himself up, and thrusts. Despite my warnings to be quiet, I can't help the moan that bursts from my mouth.
He feels like perfection. The stretch to take him fully burns, that burn quickly being overshadowed by pleasure.
Damon sets a rash rhythm from the start, his thrusts rapid. He grips my hips in both hands, the veins standing out in his forearms as he batters into me.
His piercings rub against me in just the right places, building me up quickly.
While he fucks me, Damon stares down at the place we're connected. He pulls out just enough to see my sticky juices covering his cock, before slamming back inside me.
I feel myself start to slide against the counter, making me slam my hand down on the marble while the other comes up to cover my mouth. I'm being loud and I know it. I just can't seem to make myself stop.
"You're taking me so well. Fuck," He whispers harshly, "You're so damn tight and wet. Such a good little slut for me."
Damon's dirty talk is like a sex drug hitting me right in my brain.
My hips move up and down to match each of his thrusts. Sweat is heading on his forehead as the air around us turns thick with the smell of sex.
"I'm close..." I whimper after pulling my hand from my mouth.
"Good." Damon moves his right hand from my hip to my pussy, using his thumb to rub fast circles over my clit.
Overstimulated. That's the only thing I can feel right now. Between his thumb on my clit and his cock hitting all the right spots, I'm seconds away from orgasming.
My legs tighten, toes pointing. Pressure builds along my lower stomach, until I finally I can't take it anymore. A long moan exits my mouth as my pussy clenches around Damon's cock, squeezing him tight enough to make him grit his teeth.
"You look so pretty when you come. I can't take it anymore."
Damon pulls out, turns me around, and bends me over the sink. He harshly shoves himself back in, wrapping my long black hair around his wrist and using it as a leash. My head is pulled back until I'm looking at our reflection in the mirror.
My cheeks are red, my pupils blown. Damon plows into my from behind, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror as he breathes harshly.
His stomach muscles flex and pull with each of his thrusts, the skin glistening with sweat. He's close. Really close.
With one last look at my tits and how they jiggle with each of his thrusts, he explodes on a harsh grunt. Warmth fills me, quickly bubbling out and running down my inner thigh.
A harsh slap lands on my asscheek as Damon pulls out. Just in time too, since Arella decided this was the perfect opportunity to wake up.
A loud cry sounds from the bedroom, signaling the end of our fun. Sighing my disappointment, I grab a washcloth from the shower and clean myself. Damon does the same before we wrap ourselves in towels.
All I can think about as I walk into the room to comfort the baby is how I didn't even get to wash myself...