The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession Book 4) (29 page)

“See you then,” Maia said before hanging up.

Sophia put down the receiver of her phone and stared at it for a while. With all the good in her life now, there was also some bad. She felt terrible for Maia, but there was little she could do except support her.

The recent events had taught her some valuable lessons, however. Chief among them was the realization that she should embrace Gio and everything that came with him. She wouldn’t look back. Life was too short. Any second things could change and the people you loved might be gone, so you had to appreciate them now while you had them.

Kelly had gotten a little sick of hearing Sophia tell her she loved her. Gio hadn’t. He never would. She was sure about that.

Glancing at the clock, she counted down the minutes till she could go home—the penthouse Gio had bought off Alex. She had given her landlord notice and they had moved the last of her belongings a few days ago.

For the foreseeable future, Gio was going to be working out of the London office, commuting there when he had meetings and working from home when he didn’t.

His father hadn’t been thrilled to hear that because it meant that Gio was effectively stepping back from many of his duties at the bank. But Salvatore didn’t fight him on it—not since they had announced their engagement. As long as he finally got his grandchild somewhere down the line, Salvatore would deal with it.

Exactly when the latter was going to happen was something she’d been thinking about a lot recently. Elynn and Eva had been right. Gio longed for a family.

Of course, he hadn’t said that. The one time she’d brought up children, Gio had told her it was enough to be married to her. He didn’t want to pressure her into compromising her timeline or her professional goals. Babies could wait.

But with her new
carpe diem
attitude, she wasn’t sure she wanted to wait anymore. Work shouldn’t supersede what she wanted in her personal life, and she did want children. Why put them off? Especially since she had a partner who was going to be one hundred percent invested in them now.

At five o’clock sharp, Sophia was out the door, hurrying home to Gio. He’d been in London that morning for a meeting, but returned in plenty of time to make dinner tonight.

He loved to cook, and she loved letting him.

She burst through the door of the penthouse fifteen minutes later. Gio was already busy in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, his hands covered with flour. He was making pasta from scratch. Ravioli from the looks of it.

“Hi baby,” she said, kicking off her heels and running over to the kitchen to give him a proper greeting.

His gold eyes glowed warmly as he bent to return her kiss. He held up his floured hands regretfully. “I would hug you,
mi amore
, but I’d ruin that dress.”

Glancing down at the deep purple number she was wearing, she nodded. “Let me change, and I’ll come and help in a minute.”

She ran to the bedroom, glorying in the domesticity of their relationship. Feeling a little wicked, she changed into her pajamas. They were staying in to watch the original Star Wars trilogy together for the first time, and she wanted to be comfortable. Of course, the fact that her new sleepwear consisted of sexy little silk negligees, instead of old flannel, would ensure they didn’t finish their marathon tonight.

Throwing a robe over the brief little gown, she stepped into the bathroom. She washed up and then studied her reflection in the mirror.

A newer, more confident woman was staring back at her. Things had changed quite a bit since meeting Gio, including her self-image. She was proud of her curves and would never hide them again.

Speaking of…

Sophia put a hand on her belly, passing it over the softly rounded surface. She would never have one of those flat washboards you saw on magazines, but she no longer looked at it and despaired. It was healthy—no matter how big it got.

Okay, here goes nothing
.

Reaching up she swung open the mirrored door to the medicine cabinet, taking out her birth control pills. She tossed them in the trash and went back out to the kitchen.

Pausing in the threshold, she took a minute to watch her man work. His tanned and very talented hands were busy shaping and assembling the pasta in neat little rows. He managed to keep the kitchen immaculate while he cooked, a feat she had never been capable of.

“Our kids are going to clean their own rooms without being asked, aren’t they?” she asked with some amusement.

She waited for him for him to turn to her before pulling the sides of her robe apart to flash him, giving him an eyeful of her silk-bound body.

Gio dropped the piece of pasta he was holding on the floor. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on top of a pile of perfectly assembled little rows of ravioli.

“Gio, the dinner!”

“We can order in,” he growled, his face buried in her neck.

Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his head, guiding it into her full breasts. Gio sighed like he was coming home. He tugged the thin straps of her gown down, leaving her naked from the waist up. Tugging his head closer, she guided his mouth to her dusky brown nipple.

He took one with a groan that reverberated down her body. Between her legs, her pussy contracted, sending little sparks of pleasure radiating out like fireworks.

She must have murmured that last part about fireworks out loud because Gio laughed before lifting his head. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

His hands went for her gown, and she helped him by wiggling enough so he could pull it off. Completely naked, she wrapped her legs around his waist, enjoying the way the rough cloth of his pants and shirt felt against her bare skin. Shameless in her hunger, she rubbed up and down, abrading her nipples and wet pussy against him.

Gio said something in Italian she couldn’t understand and his hands moved faster and harder in his eagerness. She loved being touched by him, the no-holds-barred way he handled her body—a little rough but always reverent. It was a heady combination of love and lust that never failed to arouse her.

Reclining on one arm, she scooted backward when he pushed her, bracing her leg on the edge on the counter. Gio’s head moved between her legs, his tongue snaking out to lick and probe her. Moaning aloud, she threw her head back and shifted to brace herself with both arms.

She felt like a goddess being worshiped. Images of fertility idols danced behind her closed lids and she laughed aloud, something Gio apparently took personally. He sucked her clit into his mouth hard, nipping it with his teeth. His fingers circled her entrance and pushed inside, making her gasp.

“Not laughing now, are we?” he teased, making her giggle. He huffed against her wet lips and reached out to nip her again.

“
Oh, God
,” she cried as his fingers worked inside her tight channel rhythmically, teasing her G-spot with determined strokes.

That was part of what she loved about him—he never wasted any time.

Her pussy had started to flutter and spasm around his fingers when he reached up to pull her hips to the edge of the counter. With one hand, he tore open his pants and then he was there, thick and strong, parting her folds with a long smooth push.

His size made it a little hard to take him easily, but that was why he was always careful to make sure she was burning to a fever pitch before he fucked her.

There was a little burn, but it dissipated quickly, transmuting into pleasure like quicksilver. Clamping down on him, she rocked when he moved, matching him thrust for thrust. He took a fistful of her hair and tugged her head to one side, exposing the length of her neck. His mouth moved up and down the sensitive skin there, leaving her weak and boneless in his arms.

He pulled her off the counter and onto the floor, a little rain of abused ravioli falling down on them. She was too out of breath to laugh. All she could do was hang on, grabbing his hips and ass while his cock drove deep. Each stroke caressed her sensitized nerves, sending little ripples of ecstasy throughout her body.

Her control started to splinter. Putting her lips to his ear, she urged him to go faster and harder with desperate little whispers. He slammed into her again and again, driving down in a counterpoint to the upward pitch of her hips. The friction grew like a sunburst filling the sky until she couldn’t focus anymore. Vision blurred, she convulsed around him, fighting to hold the pulsing head of his cock tight against that magical little spot that made her shiver and writhe helplessly on the floor.

“
Madonna mia.
” Above her, Gio’s head moved back, his neck corded with tension.

His cock jerked repeatedly, and she was filled with heat as he spilled his seed deep into her waiting womb. She cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist, taking all of him. Endless moments later he finally collapsed over her with a guttural groan.

Neither of them was capable of speech for a long time. They lay there on the floor until their bodies cooled and their breathing returned to normal. Eventually, Gio lifted his head to smile and kiss her softly.

She burst out laughing and reached up to pick off the stray ravioli that had gotten stuck to his shoulder. “It’s a pity, ’cause this looked delicious.”

He grinned down at her wickedly. “I can make more.”

Gio helped her to her feet and they took in the disaster that was now the kitchen. He couldn’t hide his expression of dismay. Peeking at him from behind her lashes, she smiled and elbowed him in the ribs.

“You’re dying to clean this all up, aren’t you?”

He wrinkled his nose and threw an arm around her. “It can wait until after we shower.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the massive master bedroom, a space bigger than her old apartment. He stood in front of her, pulling off his shirt and revealing that glorious six-pack. She wiped her mouth surreptitiously, in case she was drooling, and started to slip off her robe absently.

Damn, the man was gorgeous.

He was peeling off his pants when he turned to her with a contemplative expression. He said something she didn’t catch. She was too busy staring at him. He possessed such masculine beauty, it was easy to forget that the best thing about him was his kindness and generous loving heart. Such a man shouldn’t exist—let alone be hers.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” she asked, struggling to focus on his words.

He smiled. “I said I know you were joking about kids earlier. But I meant what I said when I proposed. I’m not in a rush to have a baby, no matter what my friends might have told you.”

Reaching over, he tugged off her robe, which was trailing off one arm like a long forgotten streamer. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear before taking the length of silk and folding it neatly on a chair.

He was perfect. Absolutely perfect. How could she not want to have a baby with this man?

“Yeah, about that…”

The End

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