Page 110 of The Proposal

“Please,” she pants in reply.

We both moan in unison as I bury myself balls deep. I move my mouth to her ear. “You’re so snug and warm,” I grate out through gritted teeth. “Inside you is my favourite place to be.”

When I begin to move, her nails dig into my biceps, and every thrust seems to ignite a flame that only the next can sate. “Fuck, I love your pussy,Bellezza… I love you.”

I draw back slightly to see her face, but when I still get no response, I reach for her hands, dragging them above her head and lacing my fingers through hers.

As much as I want to, I’m not going to kiss her. Instead, I’m going to force her to watch me make love to her. Deep and slow, with such intensity that by the end, she’ll feel fully exposed and vulnerable, as if every part of her has been rubbed bare.

My life’s mission now revolves around two things: keepingher and our baby safe, and making sure she falls in love with me so deeply that she’ll never want to leave.

I pull out Arabella’s chair before taking the seat beside her. Breakfast is served, and after the workout I just had, I’m starved, so I immediately begin to pile up my plate with all the deliciousness.

“How are you feeling this morning, Arabella?” Chloe asks as she reaches for one of the pastries my wife whipped up.

“My wife is great,” I answer before she gets the chance. “Totally satisfied, no thanks to the two of you.” My eyes narrow as they lock with my brother’s. “It’s pretty impossible to dent something that’s currently the size of a grain of sand.”

When he chuckles, and Chloe’s shoulders bob with silent laughter, my lips thin in annoyance. Is this my payback for theyears I busted his balls? It’s no fun being on the other side of the fence.

“Am I missing something?” Arabella asks as her confused gaze moves around the table.

“I’ll fill you in later,” I grumble, placing my hand on her knee and giving it a light, comforting squeeze.

I pick up my fork and start tucking into my food. When I hear a ping in the distance, I ignore it, but a few seconds later, it’s followed by another, then another.

“Somebody’s phone is blowing up,” Chloe says.

“I think it’s mine,” Arabella replies, placing down her cutlery and pushing back her chair. “I left it in the kitchen.”

“I’ll get it,” I say, halting her. “Eat.”

She smiles up at me when I stand. “I think it’s on the breakfast bar.”

I find it exactly where she said it would be, but the moment I pick it up, turn it over and see the texts are from Lucia, my stomach drops.

Lucia: Help!!!!

Lucia: It’s happening.

Lucia: Please, please, please call me back. I’m freaking out.

I immediately dial her number. I need to find out what is going on before Arabella does so I can assess the situation. The last thing I need is her getting upset in her delicate condition.

“Lucia,” I say the moment she answers.

“Dante,” she cries down the line.

“What’s going on?”

“Papa has chosen my husband.”

“Oh,” I reply, immediately relaxing. We all knew this was coming sooner rather than later.

“You’ll never guess who he’s chosen.”

Her words give me concern. “Who?”

“Giuseppe Salvatori.”

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