Tempting Little Tease, page 13
part #4 of Forbidden Desires Series
We shed the rest of our clothes and fall onto the bed.
Quinn’s hands run up and down my body, one to my breast, worshipping the nipple, massaging the fullness of it. I take over, my want outweighing any premise of taking our time, and climb on top of him, positioning him at my entrance. His eyes meet mine as I slowly sink down.
Two weeks of my body missing him means I have to stretch for his girth, but I do so with eager thrusts.
Staring deeply into each other’s eyes, I can tell neither of us is going to last. It’s been too long since we’ve felt each other. It’s too powerful. This moment. Me, him, here. Too good.
Quinn pushes himself up easily into a sitting position as I continue to ride him, my legs now wrapped intimately around his waist. With one firm arm, he draws one of my legs up slightly, changing the angle so he can thrust even deeper than I thought possible. I gasp, my heel now digging into the center of his back, my toes curling.
He pulls aside my long, dark hair and presses his mouth against my ear. “Ti amo, Alessandra. Ti amo.” I love you.
My orgasm hits me like an explosion of warm light, starting low and rippling through my every molecule with electric energy. He thrusts through the waves of it, moaning with every contraction. With a final, needy kiss, Quinn follows me, his own climax washing over him.
• • •
“So that has been my living nightmare,” I say, finishing the story of my latest run-in with Flora’s very public sex life.
Quinn takes a moment to digest the image I’ve painted for him. He shakes his head, taking a gulp of his champagne. “I’m sorry it hasn’t been everything you’d dreamed.” He sighs, eyeing his empty glass.
I feel light from the champagne. Or maybe it’s having him by my side. I’m not sure.
We haven’t bothered to dress, aside from a pair of boxer shorts for him and a tank top and panties for me. We ordered room service—more wine, and some cheese, bread, and pasta.
After answering the door in the hotel robes, we’re now comfortable again on the bed.
I laugh at Quinn’s enthusiasm to uncork the bottle of red wine. With his hair mussed and his cheeks lightly flushed in the soft light of the rising sun, he looks younger than ever.
He pours me a little wine before tasting his own. The way his lips curl around his glass in a smirk makes me want to fuck him all over again.
Instead, I indulge another way by taking a hearty bite of delicious penne, soaked in olive oil and herbs. He plants a kiss on my forehead before standing and walking over to his bag. He takes out a pair of pants and begins to put them on.
“Um, please don’t tell me you’re going somewhere,” I say, disbelieving.
He seems genuinely appalled by the idea. “Where in God’s name would I go?”
“Then why do you need pants?”
He pauses his belt buckling with a thoughtful frown. “Point taken.”
Quinn whips off his belt and takes off his pants again, throwing them into our little nest. I throw back my head and laugh—really, truly laugh. Our bodies find each other again, nestling close.
“It’s almost dawn,” I say, looking out the window, drawing the blanket closer around us. “Did I really talk all night?”
“I’ve talked as much as listened,” he reminds me.
“Yes. I’m glad you’ve made so many strides in finding your brother. That’s truly incredible. I’m so excited for you,” I murmur, feeling the emotion percolate in the moisture of my eyes.
“Are you crying?” He chuckles and plants a kiss on my temple. “It’s all thanks to you I even looked for him.”
“Oh, stop. Ti amo.” The words leap out of me in a happy sigh. I don’t try to stop them. Why would I? We both know it’s true.
“Ti amo,” he whispers in my ear. I love you.
A colossal tear falls from my cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I’m crying all over y—”
As I look for where the unruly tear must have landed, my words halt in my throat. There, in his hand, rests a ring. A simple golden band shining in the low light.
“Alessandra,” he says, lifting my chin with his other hand. His eyes search mine. “Marry me.”
Marry him?
Quinn Kingsley wants to marry me.
“We can stay here,” he says. “I have the means to provide for a life for you here and in the States. We’ll have two homes. I’d do anything to build a home with you. What do you say?”
For the first time since meeting this man, through every bilingual conversation, every cute quip, every whispered sweet nothing—I have no words. All I can do is nod yes, yes, yes, choking back tears.
“Is that a—”
I cut him off with a crushing kiss. He sighs against my lips, drawing me close against his perfect warmth.
Yes, Quinn Kingsley.. A thousand times, yes.
Chapter Twenty
Quinn
“Buongiorno, amore mio.” Good morning, my love.
I wake to Alessandra’s voice whispering in my ear, which brings a smile to my face. My cock immediately stirs to life.
I turn over to find her curled up next to me, her lips already forming into a pout at the small distance I’ve made between us by rolling over. With a grin, I pull her to me, relishing in the feeling of her skin against my bare chest, the soft movements her body makes when she breathes. I place a kiss on her forehead, and she turns her face to mine. Even now, after everything we’ve been through, after thinking I’d lost her only to find her again, my stomach tightens when she looks at me like that.
You’re one lucky fucker, Kingsley.
“Buongiorno,” I reply, moving my hand down her back and resting it on her perfect ass.
Alessandra raises her eyebrows, drawing circles on my chest with her fingertips in response.
“How is my bellissima fiancée this morning?”
“Perfecto,” she purrs, entwining her legs with mine and resting her head on my shoulder.
If I wasn’t exhausted from the marathon fucking we did last night, I would be making a move on her right now.
When I flew here, my one plan in Italy was to win Alessandra back and make her my fiancée. Now that that’s been done? I didn’t see the harm in the two of us sticking around here for a while, and I even cleared it with my brothers, who are happy to run the business in my absence for a little while.
Alessandra and I spent the past week traveling all over the country. We rode Vespas through Tuscany, walked on the beach in Capri, visited just about every museum and church in Rome, climbed to the top of the Duomo in Florence, and went shopping in Milan. Every day together has been a new adventure, eating and drinking and laughing and kissing and fucking. It’s been perfect. If it weren’t for our double-espresso shots every morning, I don’t think we’d have the energy to make it through the day.
We take our time getting ready for today’s adventure, lounging in bed until our stomachs prompt us to find food. We throw some clothes on, brush our teeth, and head for the café next to her apartment—the same café where she found me the day I first got here.
After ordering our espressos and pastries, we grab a small table in the corner, sitting close enough that our knees touch under the table.
“So, my fiancé, what’s the plan for the day?” Alessandra winks, flipping her long, dark braid over her shoulder.
“We’re going to the Sabine Hills.” I smile.
“Mmm, sounds fancy. What will we do there?”
“I signed us up for a vineyard tour. . .and I might have pulled a few strings to get us a private cooking lesson with one of the most sought-after chefs in the region.”
Alessandra’s smile fades, shock taking its place. “You’re joking.”
“No jokes, signorina. I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“Quinn, oh, my God!” She squeals, making everyone else in the café stare at us.
I can’t keep myself from smiling. I love it when I impress her, and I love it even more when she gets excited like that.
“Sorry,” she mutters, quickly hiding her face in her hands.
“Don’t be.” I chuckle. “I’m just glad you’re excited.”
“Of course I’m excited, are you kidding? The love of my life whisking me around Italy, making me feel like a freaking princess?” Her enthusiasm causes a few other customers to give us dirty looks, and she quickly ducks her head to hide her face again.
We quickly finish our pastries and make our way to the train station, eager to begin our adventure.
Once we arrive at the Sabine Hills, Alessandra and I are both overwhelmed by how beautiful the scenery is. I knew it was going to be pretty, but the view we are met with? It’s better than I ever could have imagined.
Lush greenery is everywhere, stretching as far as the eye can see. Rows and rows of vines line the hillside, and the buildings look like castles straight out of a storybook. Alessandra and I take it all in in silence, our fingers interlaced as we walk slowly toward the vineyard.
When we find the main building, we’re greeted by a middle-aged man with curly hair and a toothy smile who throws his hands in the air when he sees us.
“Welcome, my friends. My name is Niccolo, and I’ll be leading your tour today.”
Niccolo and I shake hands, and he brings Alessandra’s fingers to his mouth, giving them a quick peck. Alessandra turns to me and arches an eyebrow.
“Better look out, Quinn. I’ll expect you to greet me like he did all the time now,” she says with a wink.
We all laugh as Niccolo gestures for us to follow him, turning and leading us down the hallway into a darker, stone-walled room with various wine-making tools and machines. With my arm around Alessandra, the two of us follow Niccolo and listen politely while he explains how wine is made.
Once he’s finished explaining all the tools in this room, he leads us into the next one, which looks about the same, only with large wooden barrels instead of tools. Plus, this one smells a lot more like fermenting grapes. Niccolo tells us about all the different kinds of wine they make here, as well as the special certifications they’re required to go through.
With each new wine he describes, Niccolo hands us a generous sample. Less than a full glass, but definitely enough for multiple sips. Alessandra and I tip our glasses together each time, unable to contain our contentment with simply being together.
As the tour goes on and the wine continues to pour, Alessandra and I grow more and more affectionate. In the back of my mind, part of me knows that we’re pretty much acting like a couple of teenagers. But the rest of my mind? It’s really fucking in love with my fiancée and simply doesn’t care.
We wrap our arms around each other and steal kisses every chance we get. Hell, in the fifteen minutes of free time we had between the winery tour and the cooking lesson, I considered sneaking off for a quickie in the cellar. But, hey, even I have limits. Even when I’m this wildly, passionately, insanely in love.
When it’s time for our cooking lesson, Niccolo leads us to a rustic kitchen overlooking the rolling hills below, where he introduces us to Chef Giovanni, our teacher for the day.
“Benvenuto.” Chef Giovanni welcomes us, his broad smile making his already rosy cheeks a little rosier. He asks if we’re hungry, and Alessandra and I turn and smile at each other.
“Sì,” I reply, slipping my arm around Alessandra’s shoulders. We’re very hungry.
Alessandra chimes in, adding that we’re ready to learn.
Chef Giovanni raises his eyebrows playfully, chuckling at our eagerness. “Tu parli italiano?” You speak Italian?
“She speaks Italian,” I say, rubbing Alessandra’s shoulder and kissing her forehead.
“È un bravo studente.” She giggles, patting my shoulder. He’s a good student.
Chef Giovanni smiles and raises an eyebrow, giving us an appraising look. “Are you lovers?” he asks as he pulls a slab of mozzarella from a tub and begins slicing it into thick pieces.
Alessandra blushes, looking down at her feet to hide her embarrassment.
“Sì,” I reply, placing my fingers under Alessandra’s chin to lift her face to mine. We kiss slowly and tenderly. It may be the wine, or it may be us, but the kiss builds in urgency, so much so that I feel a stirring, prompting me to pull away.
Down, boy.
Giovanni seems unfazed by our very public display of affection. Instead of being embarrassed, he offers us wishes for a happy life together.
“Grazie,” we reply together, unable to hide our happiness.
“Well, let’s begin,” Chef Giovanni says.
To begin our cooking lesson, he lectures us on how to properly pair wines and cheeses, giving us plenty of samples of each. He then teaches us how to make a perfect pizza, handmade pasta, and perfectly seasoned chicken. The food is amazing, and I can’t help but be impressed with how quickly Alessandra picks up Chef Giovanni’s techniques.
Every time I think I know this woman, she teaches me something new about herself. Every second I spend with her here confirms the one thought that’s been bouncing around in my head since she said yes to my proposal.
I’m one lucky bastard.
After our cooking lesson ends, we pack up the leftovers from our meal and say good-bye to our guides for the day.
“Grazie, Chef Giovanni. This was wonderful,” I say, reaching out to shake the chef’s hand.
“Prego, prego,” Giovanni replies, taking my hand between both of his and shaking vigorously.
Alessandra thanks him as well, and the two of us make our way down the path to the train station.
“Good-bye, American lovers!” Niccolo yells from the terrace. He waves heartily, and Alessandra and I stop to turn and wave back. “Come again—and bring your friends!”
We nod and wave good-bye again before turning to walk to the station.
“That’s a good idea, actually,” Alessandra says, lacing her fingers through mine. “We should come back and bring your brothers along next time. They’d love it here.”
I turn and smile at my fiancée. “You’re right. They’d love it here. Maybe the Forbidden Desires executive team will have to have their annual retreat in the Sabine Hills next year.”
“Wives are welcome too, though, right?”
“Hmm. . .I don’t know about that.” I stroke my chin and raise an eyebrow.
“Quinn!” She elbows me in the ribs, slightly harder than she means to. I think.
“Hey, watch it! You’re stronger than you think, you know?” I say, rubbing my side.
“Yeah, well. For a while there, I thought I’d be doing all this alone. A girl’s gotta be able to watch out for herself.”
Taking her hand in mine, I pull her closer to me. “Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here now. Always.”
On the train ride back to Rome, Alessandra curls up next to me in her seat, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Don’t fall asleep,” I murmur, turning to kiss her softly.
“I won’t.” She sighs, her eyes already fluttering closed.
As the train rumbles along, I look out the window, watching the Italian countryside roll by. Alessandra’s breathing grows slow and deep, and the full weight of her head presses into me. Draping her cardigan over her shoulders, I pull her close. She murmurs softly, readjusting and settling into me.
With the love of my life by my side and the Italian countryside out the window, I can’t believe that this is my life. That everything worked out the way it did, so that the two of us can be together.
It’s almost like it was all meant to be.
Epilogue
Alessandra
“Come in, come in.” I usher Gavin and Emma inside. Upon returning from Italy, I moved into Quinn’s penthouse apartment, and amazingly, it already feels like home.
Emma is positively glowing, and Gavin is too—his mood has changed ever since they announced they were expecting. Only a faint hint is visible beneath her sweater, and I can’t wait to see how adorable she is with a real baby bump. Over the past few months, Emma and Corinne have both adopted me into the fold, and I feel like I’ve become part of the Kingsley family already.
Emma gives me a quick hug, and Gavin squeezes my hand. “Where have you been hiding that grumpy brother of mine?” he asks.
Quinn isn’t a grump. At least, not anymore, and especially not with me, but I chuckle at Gavin anyway.
“We’ve been busy with wedding planning,” I say, leading them into the dining room.
The weekly Sunday dinners became sporadic over the last couple of months since we returned from Italy after an extended vacation and threw ourselves into wedding-planning mode. Quinn has been exceedingly helpful, and though I never expected to do it all alone, I’ve been amazed at how involved he is. From picking flowers to deciding on our color scheme, he’s been right there every step of the way.
Cooper and Corinne are already seated in the dining room, and Corinne’s lifelong childhood friend, Aaron, is here, too, currently looking at the aquarium in Quinn’s study from his wheelchair.
I sit down to chat with the girls while Gavin and Cooper join Quinn in the kitchen. He still won’t accept much help, as he loves to cook for his family, but I know they’re not discussing his roasting techniques for the prime rib he’s serving. The conversations these past few weeks have been dominated by the topic of the Kingsleys’ long-lost brother, Will. A couple of weeks ago, Quinn succeeded in tracking him down, and the brothers all met for coffee as a sort of get-to-know-you meeting. They’ve since met for dinner and are working on building a relationship.
I’m so happy that it was my encouragement that led Quinn to pursue finding out more about his family. I know it pains him to think that he won’t have family to attend our wedding—other than his brothers, of course—but the excitement of finding a new family member has been a good distraction.
“So, six more weeks until the big day,” Corinne says, smiling at me with genuine happiness.
