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Authors: Nikki Winter

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BOOK: Flaws And All
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                “Oh,
bella,”
he murmured, turning off the oven and stove top. “There is no way you thought it would be that
easy to lie to me.”

Chapter Three
 

 

           
The kids were gone. Her one sure-fire shield against the blatant intent in her husband’s warm amber eyes. Her stomach hadn’t been in this many knots since the first time they’d slept together. This was Luciano, her partner, right? The man she’d chosen above anyone else because when she needed to she could hide behind him and not come out until she was ready to face the world again. One smile from him caused her chest to feel as though it would split just so he could get that much closer to a heartbeat that thrummed for him alone. How many times had he nearly taken the head of a photographer off for getting too close to what he considered his? How many times had his icy stare been received by other men who thought they could take his place, do a better job? Too many to count.

                So why did Samara suddenly feel like her head was being shoved under water and she couldn’t keep herself from drowning? Luciano had made it more than clear that he thought everything about her was beautiful, but sometimes spouses didn’t understand that their opinion wasn’t the only one that counted. She wasn’t comfortable in her own skin, and she had no idea how to express that to him.

                “Would you like me to wash your back,
bella?”

               
Samara swung around, her eyes widening at the sight of Luciano filling up the bathroom doorway. Jesus, what was with all the men in her life and their constant kitty-ninja-mutant stealth? She shook her head, backing away as he stepped forward. “Didn’t you already shower?”

                He smiled and, God in heaven, she melted. “Yes, but I’m not exactly opposed to taking another one.” His eyes raked her from head to toe, and the knots in her belly became butterflies.

                She smirked. “That’s cute, humongosaur, but really, I can handle it all on my own.” Nervously, she pointed behind her. “I have a loofa with a handle. Gets the job done well enough.”

                Luciano was either ignoring her or too focused on his own thoughts, because he only smiled wider and pulled his T-shirt up over his head, revealing a stone-cut physique that never failed to leave her a little breathless. “I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me, Sammie. I
am
wrong, aren’t I?” He backed her into the double sinks, his hands pinning her in on either side as he stared down into her upturned face.

                Samara snorted, running her hands up his biceps. “Of course you are. I just need twenty minutes and—”

                He shook his head, dark hair moving in one silken wave. “Unh-unh.
Parla con me tesoro. Cosa sta succedendo nella bella testa di tuo?”

               
The Italian?
Really? Goddammit!
She sucked in a deep breath, attempting to tamp down the steady thrum of heat that was building between her thighs. Her husband leaned forward and brushed his lips between her brows then kissed the tip of her nose. “Nothing’s going on in my head,” she murmured, trying not to concentrate on the sensation of his rough palms connecting with the dip in her spine. “I just—”

                “Hey.” Luciano drew her head up with a gentle finger to her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. “Since when do we lie to one another? I may have had my head up my ass the last few days but I know
you.”
He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, gently cupping her jaw. “And I know something is wrong right now.”

                Samara wanted to spill it all right then, tell how she was afraid that he’d touch her and it wouldn’t feel the same, afraid that when he saw all of her he wouldn’t still have that same heat in his stare that he’d had so many times before.

                Instead she wrapped her hand around his wrist and pulled it away. “Luc, seriously, its nothing. I’m just not having the greatest day and I need a minute, okay?”

                His eyes stayed on her for so long she was afraid he’d pull his usual
Italiano mano forte—
Italian strong hand—and dig his feet in. Instead he backed away, clearly a little hurt that she wouldn’t tell him what was bothering her. He nodded. “I’ll finish up with dinner, then.” The way his shoulders dropped as he picked up his shirt and started out of the bathroom broke her heart.

                “Luc…”

                He stopped but didn’t turn around.

                Samara closed her eyes. “I’m going to tell you something, and you have to promise not to laugh at me, okay?”

                Luciano turned to face her, eyebrows raised. “Do I ever laugh at you?”

                She stared.

                He tucked in his lips and shrugged. “Okay, so we’ve had a few incidents.”

                She continued to stare.

                His mouth twisted. “All right, more than a few.” He motioned to her. “But this isn’t about my sick sense of humor, it’s about the fact that my wife looks terrified at the prospect of taking a shower with me.”

                Samara chewed her lip. “It’s just that…”

                “
Che cosa?”

               
“Things don’t look like they used to.” At his confused frown she motioned to her body. “Baby number two came, saw, conquered, and took my figure when she left, sweetheart.”

                That was when the big bastard threw his head back and laughed. Loudly
.

***

                “
Bella,
no.” Luciano made a grab for Samara as she tried to get past him and out the bathroom. Really, he hadn’t meant to laugh, but his beautiful, wonderful, completely oblivious wife had been agonizing over
what
exactly? The thought that he wouldn’t appreciate her weight gain?

                God give him strength. She could be so ridiculous at times.

                “Let me go, you unnaturally sized mother—”

                “Hey, hey, hey!” He slammed his mouth down on hers, taking full advantage when her lips parted in surprise. His tongue rolled and grazed the roof of her mouth, rubbing over her own with insistence until she kissed him back with enough ferocity to leave him dazed. Luciano released her lips, his breath shuddering out as she gave little gasps.

“Do I have…your attention…now?” he panted.

She nodded, and he set her on her feet before turning her to face the mirror that stretched over the sink, taking up a good portion of the wall. “You obviously don’t see yourself the way I see you, so we’re going to change that.”

Her brows drew downwards but she stayed quiet. How did she
not
know? The first time he’d laid eyes on Samara it was like a gut punch. The first time he’d heard her voice he felt as though every broken part of his spirit had been mended in a way no one else could. How she could look at herself and see any less than a woman who was blessed with an incredible beauty he didn’t understand, but he’d show her.

Luciano brought her back against his chest and reached around to play with the strands of her hair. She’d stopped wearing braids at his insistence after the first time he’d seen her naturally kinky locks. Her curls had grown since then, reaching the nape of her neck with the help of her pregnancy. When straightened, her hair fell just beneath her shoulder blades in blue-black waves, but it didn’t matter which way she wore it, he loved it.

“Any time I see these”—he pulled a curl and watched it spring back—“I think of the way the top of your head peeks out from beneath the covers every morning.” His hand moved to her brows then her mouth. “The memory of how these feel in the most fleeting of touches keeps me occupied for hours when I should be working. Do you have any idea how sweet your mouth is?”

She swallowed, and he ran his fingers down her throat. “I love that small spot just beneath your ear here.” He brushed his index finger over it and listened to her gasp. “And the way you moan when I tug your earlobe with my teeth.”

Samara shifted against him, and he clenched his jaw as his hand drifted farther down and played with the ties of her sundress, until he pulled them loose. She reached up as if to stop the soft, lavender-colored material from falling, but he shook his head and she allowed it to drop, revealing a black lace, strapless bra that cupped her chest lovingly. One flick of his fingers and the clasp opened. The undergarment fell and it left her bare to his gaze. He could feel his cock lengthen, going from half-mast to full at the sight of her chocolate-brown nipples tightening under his stare.

He cupped one, rolling his palm over the beaded tip, and watched as her lips parted. “I love how soft you are. How much comfort I feel when I lay my head here.” Luciano’s other hand came up to hold the left breast, and he lightly grazed over both nipples. Letting them go at her quiet whimper, he dropped his hands to her hips and pushed the sundress down the rest of the way. She looked away, but his eyes remained on her uncovered flesh as he lightly caressed her sides and belly. The area wasn’t as firm as it used to be, but he liked it—he liked that everything about her since her pregnancy had become lusher. She was worried about a few stretch marks? Some excess weight? All he could see was where he wanted his tongue—in her belly button, on her butterfly tattoo, running across her hips and her thighs.

“You carried life for me here.” His fingertips lovingly traced her tummy. “You nurtured and loved two whole other beings. Ones that have your eyes and your smile. How could I ever look at this and associate it with anything other than how amazing you are?”

Her head lifted, and her eyes were glazed. Luciano brought his hand around to the apex of her thighs and pushed up against the downy hair of her mound. “And this is the reason I finish my work early. The reason I smile at the oddest times of day. The reason I behave myself. But it’s not what makes you beautiful to me.” When his thumb brushed her clit she went up on tiptoes, pushing into his hand. “It’s what rests here.” His right hand reached her chest once again and rested just over her heart. “Every single flaw, every single imperfection, every single scar you have belongs to me, and I love each and every one of them.” He kissed her shoulder. “
Non bisogna mai dubitare che.”

Her lids slid closed as she whispered, “I don’t doubt that.”

“You do.” Luciano curved his hand over her sex. “But you shouldn’t.” He thrust two fingers into her slippery core. “Because you have everything that I could ever desire.
Mi hai capito?”

She nodded, gleaming white teeth trapping her bottom lip as she moved against his hand.

“Say the words,
bella.
I want to hear them.”

“Yes…” She gripped his wrist. “I understand.”

“Good.” He took his hand away and bent her over the sink, bringing a hand down on her buttocks, watching it shake with the force. “That’s for doubting that you’re still as lust-inspiring to me as you were the first time I laid eyes on you.” Luciano slapped the other cheek, and she gripped the granite top. “And that’s for shutting me out.”

“I’m sorry…”

He shook his head. “Not good enough, sweetheart.” When he went for his belt, she froze. “You clearly need to learn a lesson in communication,” Picking her up, he started towards the bedroom and tossed her on the bed. “And I’m going to teach you.”

Chapter Four
 

 

           
Okay, so she’d made an error in judgment where her husband was concerned, but was that really a reason to truss her up like a Luau pig?

                “Luc?”

                “Hmm?” He tugged at her wrists, clearly making sure the belt was good and tight.

                “Can’t we talk about this? In a clear, rational fashion?”

                Luciano gave her a slow, wide smile, and she smiled back. Then, with a shrug of those huge shoulders, he simply said, “No.”

                Not the response Samara was hoping for here. Yet she shuddered from the determined stare he cast her. They hadn’t played this particular game in a long, long time and God help her, she was anticipating the moment he’d touch her again. She hadn’t had some sudden turn of confidence from his heartfelt admission, but knowing what he saw when he looked at her, hearing the unadulterated desire in his voice as he talked about every part of her body that he loved, put her at ease.

                “If you want to talk,
bella,”
her husband stated in a hushed tone, “you can tell me where to touch you.” His fingertips trailed from her shoulder, down her collarbone and between her breasts. He lingered there, not going any farther. “
This
is our lesson in communication.”

                Her eyes closed as she breathed through clenched teeth. “You mean our lesson on torment?” Despite her weeks of agonizing over something that clearly wasn’t an issue, Nyssa had been right—Samara had missed sex with her husband just about as much as he had, if not more.

                The weight of him pressing between her thighs, the sensation of his rough palms sliding over her skin, the taste of his mouth… She’d needed him badly but insecurity held her back. At least until now, when he wouldn’t move his goddamn hands!

                “Luc…”

                “Yes?” His pointer finger lightly circled a nipple before he pinched it and let go. A rush of moisture wet the apex of her thighs, and Samara arched upwards.

                “I get what you’re doing here but really, do you wanna wait any longer after two
long
months?” Logic. He couldn’t argue with logic, right?

                His lips curled at the corners. “I wouldn’t have to wait if you’d simply part those pretty lips and tell me what it is you want me to do to you.”

               
Fuck.
Okay, apparently he
could
argue with logic. “I want you to touch me.”

                “I
am
touching you.” He was palming her waist, his thumbs gently massaging the flesh above her pelvic bone. Luciano’s mouth left a fleeting kiss right beneath her belly button as he settled down on the bed between her thighs, then another kiss where her butterfly tattoo rested on her hip.

                She bit the inside of her cheek. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” Samara generally directed his movements with her own hands while in bed, but because she was tied up like a bondage slave that was a little impossible tonight.

                Those irises she loved so much glinted up at her. “Say what?” He swirled his tongue around her belly button and her thighs clenched.

                “I…
Voglio che toccare la mia figa.”

               
Luciano chuckled. “That’s cheating,
bella.”

               
“You taught me Italian for a reason, and you want me to communicate so I’m communicating. Therefore,
farlo.”

               
His rumbling laugh ate away at the resistance to beg and Samara pleaded with a whimpered, “
Please.”

               
One hand disappeared from her hip and skimmed just over her pussy.

                Samara shook her head. “Use your
mouth.”

               
Her husband sucked in a deep breath, his eyes darkening as he firmly lifted her legs and pulled them upwards before spreading her thighs as far as he could. The first flick of his tongue across her engorged clit had her head lolling to the side, and the lashes that followed in quick succession tore a deep moan from her throat.

                “Right…there…oh, God, Luc…”

                He flattened the appendage and ran it up her slit with a groan that reverberated through her quaking pussy, leaving her breathless. Samara’s hands clenched, unable to do much of anything aside from grip each other as she twisted under Luciano’s insistent mouth. If there was something her husband did better than boxing, it was cunnilingus.

                Her thighs tensed as he parted the thick lips of her sex with his tongue. He allowed her to feel the full softness of his mouth on her core right before he gently sucked her clit between his lips and sent her spiraling into an orgasm intense enough to cause her back to bow.

                His name came out on a harsh gasp as she rode the never-ending wave he carried her on, never once stopping his oral ministrations. Luciano took her higher and higher again until she broke like a vase being tossed off the edge of Mount Everest; the second climax more intense than the first.

                “Jesus, Luc…please…I can’t… Stop…stop…stop…”

               
He heard her pleas and pulled back, staring up at her with a predatory glint in his eyes as he licked his lips.
“Proprio come dolce come mi ricordo.”

               
Her pussy spasmed, clenching down on air and obviously looking to be filled. Luciano moved away, and Samara whimpered.

                “Shh,
bella.”
He flicked open the button of his jeans then slowly slid down the zipper, those ever-intense irises never leaving her face. “Believe when I say I am going nowhere
.”

                God in heaven…  

***

                His cock felt as though it was going to split, he was so hard. Samara had no idea how much concentration it took not to just jump on top of her and slam home like a wildebeest. With her hair making a frizzy halo around her gorgeous face, her lips parted in undiluted pleasure, and her thighs spread just for him, Luciano was close to doing that very thing.

                “Luc?”

                He was watching her, one hand on his dick, slowly stroking to relieve some of the tension that had built there the moment he put his mouth on her. He’d never seen a fruit riper or sweeter than what his wife held between her legs.

                “Yes?”

                “Will you fuck me now?”

                The husky draw of her voice, the same voice that had been the first thing to capture him, sent his eyes to her face. She’d asked in English, which was a clear sign of desperation. No matter how many ways he’d touched her, how many things they’d done to one another, Samara still held a slight air of innocence when she asked to be fucked. That did nothing but make him harder.

                She’d caught her bottom lip between her teeth and was rubbing her thighs together, clearly trying to relieve her own tension. Luciano’s mouth dried at the way her breasts bounced with every slight motion, bringing his attention to the pert nipples he’d oftentimes found himself rolling on his tongue just before dawn broke across the sky when she still carried Giana.

                “If that’s what you want,” he finally answered, kneeling between her legs as she opened to him.

                Samara nodded. “It is.”

                When they were chest to chest, he probed her with the tip of his cock, nudging gently until her core sucked him in. The sound that left his throat was between a groan and a growl. Burying his face against his wife’s sweetly scented throat, he punched his hips and drove in another inch.

She gasped under him, arching upwards. “Luc…
please…”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Shaking her head, she turned her gaze to his own. “You won’t. I
swear
you won’t. Just—”

                Her words ended on a keening cry as he speared her on
[KK1]
 
the rest of his length. Luciano’s arms went around her waist as her body moved against his own, her hips working in circular motions that took his sanity.

                She felt too fucking good, and there was only so much he could take. Eight weeks of pressure seemed to build in his groin, and he found himself relentlessly pounding into her until she could do no more than take it and call his name.

                “Yeah…yeah…yeah…”

                He nipped her neck as she locked her ankles in the middle of his back. Luciano then braced his hands above her head as the tip of her tongue brushed just under his chin. She pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered every filthy thing she wanted him to do to her, and he was mindless to stop himself from pushing into her just that much harder.

                When Samara’s mouth suddenly dropped open on a silent scream and her convulsing inner core clamped down on him with enough force to cause him to grit his teeth, Luciano finally released himself inside her.

                He dropped to the side of her, rolling until he was on his back.

                “
Holy. Fuck,”
his wife whispered, and a hoarse laugh came from his belly.

                “Lessons on communication don’t seem so bad now, do they,
bella?”

               
There was silence.

                Luciano turned his head to find Samara’s eyes closed, lips parted as soft snores came from her mouth. Chuckling once again, he prodded her.

                “Yo!”

                Her eyes opened wide, then she glared at him. “What?”

                “I’m not done with you, woman. No sleeping until I am.” He reached up to untie her wrists and rubbed the flesh there to get circulation going again.

                “Twenty-minute nap?” Her voice hedged into a whine, huge doe eyes blinking up at him.

                “I’ll give you a ten-minute shower alone.”

                “Compromise is another word we need a lesson on.”

                He smirked. “That
was
a compromise.”

                “Sir, I don’t think that word means what you
think it means.”

                Placing his arms behind his head, Luciano closed his eyes. “You say tomato…”

                “No,” Samara stated, straddling him with that same belt in her hand. “I say we have another lesson, humongosaur.”

               
God in heaven…

 

 

 

The End

BOOK: Flaws And All
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