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Here's the seventeenth installation.
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- Ang
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Niccolo's Chocolate House
Chapter 17
*Dari*
I opened my eyes a few seconds before everything came flooding back, I am in Niccolò's room. In his bed.
Last night, I went to my room with the intention of sleeping right away, only nothing went according to plan.
For three seemingly endless hours, I studied the lines of the ceiling in hopes that I would fall asleep from the little activity to no avail. Even when I closed my eyes, it proved futile because I became more aware of the chill that lingered immovable. It was about nine when I'd finally decided to take a leap of faith, wondering if, maybe, he would turn me away. Or worse, say something embarrassing.
I'd made my way across the darkened hall to his room, in hesitation. To my surprise, he was very accommodating. In fact, he gave up his bed, suggesting that I slept there while he settled against the softness of the sublime rug that covered his floors. It was incredibly sweet of him to do that for me, though I anticipated sleeping next to him. Everything about his room rang with masculinity, especially the theme which included maroons, browns and pale greys. It summed up his personality brick for brick.
Oddly enough, I felt safe tucked between his sheets. I propped myself up with the aid of my forearms to see he was still asleep down there. I allowed my eyes to feast on the mesmerizing contours of his back, feeling the overwhelming urge to drag my hands over him.
I would be a fool not to appreciate the sex appeal this man emitted with a gorgeous piece of art like that. Just the sight of him was lethal, enough to stir a yearning low in my pelvic area. I'd never felt anything like it before though I wasn't brave enough to admit any of that to him, despite this appearance of this tender side of him, even I appreciated.
I slowly climbed out of bed, nearly releasing an audible moan as my feet met the fluffy pale grey surface of the rug, giving myself the opportunity to fully appreciate its texture which was akin to walking on clouds.
I moved stealthily towards him before lowering myself to my knees, sitting on the heels of my feet paralleled to his back to study him better. Niccolò's head rested against his pale grey pillow and above his arm which was under the pillow itself. His back slanting to the left where his ribs met the surface of the rug. His firm round butt jutting out due to his stationary position and I near chuckled at the urge I felt to smack it. Imagine me smacking a man's butt. Ridiculous, wasn't it? I allowed my eyes to descend lower over the length of his long powerful legs which made my heart race for some reason.
There was this intense inexplicable, irresistible magnetism between us, regardless of how much I tried to deny its existence or potency, and I couldn't be rid of it.
I lowered my body to the rug about an arms-length away from his gorgeous body. I simply studied him for a bit, imagining my hands tracing over his muscle, his flesh. He must have been a heavy sleeper because the alarm on the night-stand rang off startling me in the process but he remained unshaken, never once stirring sleeping soundlessly. I wondered if his resistance to his alarm also extended to touch. There was only one way to test my theory. Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately for me.
I allowed my fingertips to glide at an angle, starting at the tenderness of his shoulder, following the path to the nape of his neck, stopping just under his rich black hair that began there. Every inch of him was hard enough to resist as it was a feast to my eyes. I was unable to hold out any longer, easing my hand into his dark curls.
Suddenly, he rolled over trapping one of my hands, the one now locked in his hair, behind his head, startling me. His shoulder reinforced my restraint, beholding his icy blue gaze as they held my own.
"I suggest that you refrain from doing that, or I won't be to blame for ravishing you right here, right now." The look in his eyes was one I couldn't decode but I knew he wasn't bluffing and that scared me.
"Good morning," I inhaled as his hand came up to trace his fingertips along the edges of my cheekbone before he dipped his head to place a soft kiss at the hollow of my neck, stirring feelings with me.
"Good morning," Niccolò said against the spot of my neck. "How did you sleep?"
"Good, thanks," I supplied, profoundly aware of his nearness.
"You know, it's getting harder to resist you?" Niccolò began, his head now hovering over me. "You're too beautiful."
"Why resist then?" I said, shocking myself as well as the gorgeous man before me, downplaying his compliment. I wasn't unattractive but I'm sure I wasn't what he was used to. I was average, neither hot nor cold.
He noted the challenge before studying me for a good few seconds. Niccolò lowered his head toward me his eyes dropping to my lips before flicking back up to my eyes again. His fragrance warped my senses, sending me into a daze as his lips hovered over mine.
I reached up to bring his head down, only for him to grip my only available hand, pinning it to the surface. His lips met mine briefly before he kissed me slowly and deeply, causing my breath to fail and my heart to pulse in an irregular rhythm.
Just then a knock sounded at his door, causing him to release a frustrated groan. "Niccolò, I'm back!"
"Dammit Krysta," He grunted in annoyance before raising his head and I near grunted myself.
His sister's timing couldn't have been more off, but I wouldn't tell him that. Besides, I was sort of thankful ... way way way down in my heart that she prevented us from doing something we both might regret later on. Niccolò lent me his hand, guiding me to my feet, holding me close to him at my waist.
"This isn't over," He pecked my lips briefly before he released me altogether and I instantly missed his warmth.
Niccolò opened the door to reveal an excited Krysta. Her eyes scanned him from head to toe noting that he was shirtless before her icy gaze identical to her brother raked over my appearance. Heat began to rise in my cheeks and I could only imagine what was going through her mind.
Her brother and I in a room together, his room, he's shirtless and I was in my jammies. I buckled under her gaze as she offered a knowing grin, that was all it took for me to tear out of his room so fast, passing the siblings on my way out.
Gosh, I knew we were married now but this was all new to me. I don't know how many women Niccolò had been with but by the looks of him, he could have had any number of women, especially if his use of seduction on me was anything to go by.
Also, was it right to give in ... to consummate a wedding in pure lust? My gosh, I was a hot mess and that Italian was really getting under my skin, driving me nutts. I entered my room before shutting the door to see that one of my pillows was missing. He could keep it and as far as I was concerned, I wasn't going to go back there anytime soon. Gosh, I can't believe I wanted him to get so forward with me. What surprised me more, is how much I craved and anticipated his kiss ... his touch just as he'd vowed I would. What was he? A Soothsayer?
It was unnerving this effect he had on me. I pressed my back against the door to my room, almost ashamed of my actions. I may never live that one down.
A few hours later, I descended the cascading stairway, becoming all the more aware of the band on my marital finger so much so that I stumbled on the steps, falling over myself only to be caught within the strong arms of my husband.
He wore a white polo t-shirt that strained against his bulging arms, which now held me to him, along with a pair of denim jeans that defined his amazing legs though not fitted. He almost seemed down to earth but I knew better than to think as much.
He smiled down at me in the most heart-stopping way possible, his arms remained though he'd secured my footing. He looked down at me from his six-foot frame, glancing at my lips and back up to my eyes again. The tension that lingered between us was astonishing so much so that I wanted to crawl under a rock.
"Ciao, Bella," Niccolò raked his hands through my tresses from the nape of my neck and I allowed him. The feel of his hand in my hair grazing against my scalp. "I love your hair."
"Why?" I supplied shocked that I could even hear him at all.
"Because it's different. It is a part of you, makes you stand out and all the more appealing." Niccolo replied, continuing to run his hands through my hair as his available hand slid down to squeeze my right cheek. At that, I came to my senses, stepping away from him as though he was scolding hot which, in my defence, he was.
"Scared, Ada?" He challenged, cocking his left eyebrow in question as a smirk spread over his tantalizing lips.
"Josie, the caregiver will be here any minute," I suggested avoiding his question.
"Hmmmmmm," He allowed his eyes to rake boldly over my form in appreciation. My skin felt hot under his gaze.
"I-I'm going to see my papa." I countered, thankful that I was wearing a loose-fitting dark indie dress that fell to my feet because I felt my nipples grow hard.
"I'll join you," Niccolò called from behind me, clearly ignoring the hint. We both walked in tandem along the west wing of the foyer, stopping at my papa's room. I knocked briefly before allowing myself in, to see my papa leaning against the head of his bed, reading some literature from an old red book.
"Hello, Papa," I grinned so happy to see him, making my way around the side of his bed before entering his outstretched arms and warm embrace.
"Hello, baby girl," He kissed me on my forehead. "Mr. Casimiro."
"Papa." My ears perked up at the way he addressed my papa before he released me.
Papa noticed as well as his eyebrows, cocking in question. We both looked at Niccolò in question before he chuckled. The sound, making my heart pound fiercely within my chest. Get a grip woman!
"It's only fitting that I call you Papa now that Ada is my wife," Niccolò confessed. My eyes burned into his in annoyance. I wanted to be the one to tell him but the man stole that privilege from me. He stared back at me, not budging in the least only, wearing a sickening smile on his face. Now, I could feel my papa look at me, waiting for a response. I glanced at my papa, confirming his questioning gaze.
"I wanted to be the one to tell you," He smiled despite himself, bringing me into a hug only a moment later to feel a muscular chest against me I realized a little too late that my father had initiated a group hug. When he realised us, Niccolò remained in place and I became keenly aware of his presence behind me.
"Congratulations to the both of you, I pray God blesses you with three score years together and more. It's a joy that my baby found love." I could feel Niccolò grinned behind me as his ego inflated.
Just then the doorbell rang, and I couldn't have left the room faster. I was ever-grateful for the interruption, allowing the men to bond. I opened the door to see Josie, grinning widely at the sight of her.
"Please let me take your bags. Welcome to our home." I recognized the familiar voice all too well. Didn't he wear a bell? Anything to warn me that he entered the room? Gosh! I embraced Josie grateful that she would be here.
"Thank you for coming," I grinned, linking an arm with her.
"You're welcome," She grinned as I led her across the foyer, in the direction Niccolò had taken to.
*END of Chapter Seventeen*
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TRANSLATIONS
Italian - English
"Ciao, Bella," - "Hello, Beautiful,"