“No, principessa. I want you to watch my hands worship your body.”

She raised her eyes and didn’t take them off the mirror again. Her breathing hitched as my hand traveled lower. “Open your legs,” I ordered, and she did. I parted her folds with my thumb and middle finger, laying her clit bare. She arched her hips and I pressed my index finger down and began rubbing small circles. Her lips parted as she rocked her pelvis. Soon she was as ready as before. I drew back and climbed between her legs before I pulled her closer, parting her legs even wider and lifting her ass. Her eyes were still focused on the mirror, and I could have come just because of the look of need and fascination on her face.

“Yes, love, watch my cock claim your pussy.” She trembled with desire as I pressed my tip against her opening and eased into her tight channel. Her body took me in, yielding to the pressure, and the sight of my cock buried deep inside of her made my balls tighten. I held on to her hips as I thrust into her in a slow rhythm. I’d been slow and gentle with her since she’d been shot, and I hadn’t minded, but today I wanted more. Still, after Aria’s reaction on the sundeck, I didn’t want to push her.

ARIA

Having Luca make love to me—nothing had ever felt better, but I could see in the hunger in his eyes, the controlled twist of his mouth that he needed more, and I was so ready for it. While I loved his softer side, I enjoyed his darker, harder side during sex just as much. I dug my heels into his backside, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “More,” I breathed, and he complied immediately. He fell forward, catching his weight on his palms, eyes possessive and hungry as they bored into me, and then he slammed harder into me. My eyes found the mirror again, and he panted. “Yes, principessa. Watch us.” And I did. I couldn’t have looked away even if I’d tried. Luca was magnificent, and watching him claim me excited me like nothing ever had. The muscles in his back moved beautifully under his tanned skin, and his firm round backside tensed with every thrust. He was so strong and powerful. All man, all alpha, all mine.

He slammed harder into me, deeper, hitting the spot I hadn’t even known about before him, and I screamed out my release. Luca dropped to his forearms, thrusting harder, driving me deeper into the bed. His pants turned labored, and then he groaned. His ass tensed, his shoulder blades flexed as he came inside of me, and I almost came again seeing him like that in the mirrors. How could I have thought I would pay attention to my body when I could watch Luca? I ran my hands over his muscles, down to his strong backside, marveling that this man was mine, and not only his body but also his heart. The past didn’t matter anymore, least of all Grace. I wouldn’t give her the power to ruin another second of my honeymoon.

Luca stilled above me and buried his face in my hair but when he raised his eyes, I could read an unspoken question in them.

“I’m okay,” I said, then in a low voice, “I love the mirror.”

Luca chuckled, a dark sound from deep in his chest. “I knew you would.”

He slid off me and pulled me against him. This was a good start to our honeymoon.

The next day we set off early in the direction of a small fishing village that was overrun with tourists in the summer months, but quiet and picturesque the rest of the year. We went in search for a small café to have breakfast since our attempt at pancakes had proven a major fail. Starving, we settled at a small round table near the harbor. Luca dwarfed the wooden chair and I had to hold back laughter, but he was relaxed. More relaxed than he allowed himself to be at home. Of course, he had a gun strapped to his calf and a knife in the holster at his chest, which was why he wore a black shirt despite the warmth. It was less accepted to display weapons around here, so Luca had to adapt. I ordered a cappuccino and biscotti, even if the locals usually reserved those delicacies for the afternoon. After that Luca and I strolled along the promenade under the curious glances of locals and tourists alike. “Come on, let’s get back to the boat. I prefer our privacy.”

I had to agree. Luca and I simply attracted too much attention, which was mainly due to the fact that Luca looked like a professional football player with his size.

Luca found another beautiful secluded cove for us. My eyes wandered over the crystal water toward the untouched crescent beach. Luca held out a snorkel and a snorkeling mask. “How about a swim?”

I took both from him, surprised. “I’ve never snorkeled before.”

“Now you will,” he said. We were already in our bathing gear so we only had to put on the mask and the snorkel. I couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Luca dressed like that. “I didn’t think you were the snorkeling type. After all, you can’t take weapons with you into the water.”

He raised dark eyebrows and lifted up a calf holster with a curved knife before he strapped it to his leg. Of course, he would take a weapon with him.

He nudged me toward the platform at the end of the yacht. I sat down on the edge and slowly glided into the water. I’d never swum so far outside and I worried that it would unnerve me not to see ground beneath my feet, but when Luca joined me, a sense of safety came over me. Luca would protect me. He was probably the most dangerous predator in these waters. I stifled a grin at the thought. The moment I put my head underwater and saw what lay below, fish and, further down, fascinating rock formations, I forgot my worries. Luca and I snorkeled for almost an hour, Luca always close to me, protective as usual.

Afterwards Luca and I had dinner before Luca took us to the beach in an inflatable. He spread out a blanket on the sand, and I sank down on it as he took the champagne from the cooler bag and settled beside me. The salty ocean air lingered in my nose.

He filled two glasses and handed me one. We clinked glasses and kissed before I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. I’d grown used to the taste over the years and had learned to appreciate the tartness and the bubbles bursting on my tongue. Luca wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me against him, as we watched the sun set over the ocean in hues of pink and orange.

“I never imagined it would be like this,” I admitted in a whisper.

Luca turned to me. “What exactly?”

“Us, our marriage,” I said. “In the three years until our wedding I pictured how you’d treat me. I listened to Umberto’s stories about your fights, about how you crushed a man’s throat, how you killed your first man at eleven, and all I could think was that I wouldn’t survive if you were the man he and everyone described.”

I fell silent, my eyes trained on the waves. My fears were still fresh in my mind; they had still filled my nights three months ago, and now I sat beside Luca with champagne, feeling safer than I had all my life. Luca was watching me with rapt attention, but didn’t interrupt me as I continued, “Our father occasionally hit us, Gianna more than Lily and me, but I worried you’d do worse.” Luca’s hand on my waist tensed but still I pressed on. “I was sheltered, true, but women talk and what I overheard many of them say about how Made Men treat their wives terrified me—and those men weren’t even called the Vice. I know we haven’t been married long, but if you keep treating me the way you do now, I will be happier than I thought possible. I know I can count myself lucky. I know it every time other women offer me words of consolation and send me looks of compassion because I’m your wife.”