“What’s the question?”
“Do you want to come?”
“Yes.” The breathy moans nearly undo me.
“Stroke me. Make me nut all over your hand, although it should be in your womb where I plan to put my sons. I want you to have my babies. Do you want my babies, Anabelle?”
“Yes. All of them.”
“You’ll always be the only one for me,” I whisper along the column of her throat, coming hard on her hand. She moans, stroking me, and my dick doesn’t go down; instead, I’m good to go again. I pull her hand away and drop to my knees. Spreading her out wide, I lick her wet slit, dragging my tongue along her seam. Her juices coat my face as she cries out, coming for me.
When I finally find the strength to stand without my legs shaking, I take control of the shower, grabbing the sponge and soap. “Let’s wash up before I stuff my fat cock into your tiny little cunt like I want to.”
“Merry Christmas, Fabio.”
“Merry Christmas.” We wash quickly before we get carried away again. Adjusting myself as best I can, I dress in a pair of jeans and white tee-shirt with a beige cardigan over it. When she steps out of the bedroom, I see we’re matching, and I can’t wait to marry this woman. One day I hope she wants that, but for now, I’ll take what I can get.
“Are you ready?” I ask, looking at the small bag and her computer bag on the sofa.
“Yes. It’s enough, right?”
“I would say pack a little more, just in case we get snowed in again.” That’s not why, though. I plan to drag her back to my condo and lock her away, but I’ll use whatever excuse I can.
“Should I bring some more clothes for Isabelle?”
“I think she’ll be staying there a long time, so it might be a very good idea.”
“Okay. Then I need another twenty minutes.”
I load the trunk and take in the sight before me. They live in a quaint little neighborhood that I could see our family living in, although with a much bigger house. We both have small families, but I’m planning to change that. I want a team of little chefs and designers running around, and I’m sure Franco’s thinking the same way. He has a castle to store all his future kids and with space left over.
“What’s wrong?” Anabelle asks, coming to my side, eyes full of concern
I slide my hand around her waist and tug her to my side. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was just thinking, and only good things.”
“Well, I’m finally ready.”
“About time, woman,” I tease, turning toward her and kissing her pretty pink lips. She giggles, pulls away, and runs around to the passenger side, hopping in before I can catch her.
“I’m guessing you use that treadmill a lot.”
“Normally five miles a day,” she sighs. I didn’t see her on that bad boy today or yesterday, but I might have gotten here after she worked out.
“Damn, did I mess up your day?”
“Not in the slightest. I have a feeling you’ll help me burn a lot more calories before the night is through.”
“Damn right I will. Or at least I’ll try.” We buckle up, and just as I’m about to reverse out of the driveway, she presses her hand onto my forearm.
I stop and give her my attention. “Look. I’m not denying what we have or where this is going, but for today, I don’t want to make it about us. Franco and Isabelle have been waiting for this moment for a long time.”
“So you want to keep our relationship a secret?” In the pit of my stomach I hate this idea more than anything, but she’s right. Franco has loved Isabelle for so long and they deserve to share their happiness with us without being overshadowed even if it’s just a tiny shadow.
“Just for today.”
“Fine. Just for today.”
“Then tomorrow I can post on Instagram?” she offers, mocking the post that brought her so much pain for nothing. I wish I’d known because Anabelle was mine before I met her.
“Yep. I want the world to know you’re mine. So you can share away when you’re ready.” I lean in and steal a kiss. “Got everything?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Then let’s go.” We finally hit the road and thankfully the plows have done a good job. It’s going to need more work, but it’s not an instant fix when there’s thousands of miles to cover on a holiday. Still, I’m just enjoying the time I have alone with Anabelle, breathing in her fruity scent. We make it to my brother’s in a reasonable time and then Anabelle releases the standard gasp when anyone sees this place for the first time. It’s a work of art for sure.
Chapter Seven
Anabelle
Holy shit, he wasn’t kidding when he said it was a castle. It’s a mansion with two spires on the ends, giving it that feel and yet it’s modern as well. Stately. That’s what I get out of it and I’m in love with the beauty. It truly is a work of art.