Page 122 of The Proposal

He sweeps my hair to one side, placing his lips against my heated skin as he slowly slides inside. We both moan in unison as he seats himself to the hilt.

My breath hitches in the back of my throat as his handsmove to my hips, the tips of his fingers digging into my soft flesh as he draws my body closer.

He moves inside me in short, languid strokes, getting me used to the intrusion, but it’s not enough. I widen my stance a little more and push my backside towards him, trying to reach that aching spot of need deep inside me.

“Fuck, Arabella,” he grates out through gritted teeth as he rests his forehead on my shoulder and pounds into me at lightning speed. “You are my sweetest addiction … I can’t get enough of you.”

His hand slips from my hip, moving between my legs. “Come for me,amore mio. I can’t hold back much longer.”

It only takes a few swipes over my clit before I’m spiralling over the edge. This man is like a skilled musician, strumming my body with expertise.

I tilt my head back, resting it against his chest. “Daaante.” I drag out his name, and the moan that follows is loud as wave after wave of pleasure hits me like a freight train, leaving me feeling breathless and weak at the knees.

This is the life I could only dream about once. I never thought it would eventually become my reality. The sun is setting, casting a soft orange glow over the backyard. The heat of the Australian summer is still lingering in the air, but the evening breeze provides a welcome relief.

My husband is standing by the grill, flipping meat on the barbeque like an ordinary man. Not a feared Mafia Don.

The smell of sizzling chicken and marinated steaks fills the air. Lina, Chloe, Lucia, and I spent the day making a variety of salads, pasta, potato dishes, and Italian desserts.

Although this is not how we do things in my country, I love how laid-back and easygoing Australians are. I also adorethe atmosphere and camaraderie these people share. It feels like a real family, nothing like how Papa ran things back in Italy.

I stand on the edge of the pool, sipping on a mocktail that Chloe whipped up for us, watching Dante as the people around me chat and the kids play and laugh in the water below.

My husband looks like he’s in his element, surrounded by his men as they laugh and rib each other. It’s rare for theFamigliato see him like this … relaxed, unguarded, and present. There’s no calculating look in his eyes, no unspoken orders. Just a man preparing dinner for his family and friends … the people he cares about.

I see this side of him daily, but I’m one of the lucky few who gets to witness the real him—the person beneath the title and endless responsibilities.

He chuckles at something one of his men says before glancing over his shoulder and scanning his surroundings.

Is he looking for me?

Did he feel my eyes on him?

A few moments later, his gaze finds me, and the devastating, full smile I get as soon as our eyes connect gives me my answer. My heart begins to beat a little faster and a little louder. It’s as if the world falls away, and the only thing I feel is him. Despite the distance between us, his presence pulls me in.

This is the first time I’ve ever been in love, and it feels like he’s discovered a part of me I never knew existed, a piece of myself that has been lying dormant, waiting for him to awaken it. As if my heart had spent years trapped in a kind of limbo, longing for someone to rescue me from the hell that was my life.

Growing up under the iron grip of a tyrant made me despise my existence, and I couldn’t envision a future beyond the darkness. What I have now with my husband onceseemed like an impossible dream, something so out of reach it felt more like a fantasy than a reality. I now look forward to tomorrow, to a life beside this man.

I place my hand over my stomach and return his smile. The air around us crackles as my chest tightens, and a mix of warmth and longing floods through me. He flashes me a playful wink, full of unspoken promises, making my heart flutter before he shifts his focus back to his men.

“You two are so cute,” Lucia says, nudging me with her elbow and pulling me out of my haze. “I want what you have.”

I glance at her. “I hope you find someone like that one day.”

Her cheeks balloon before puffing out a long breath. She doesn’t say anything further, but when I follow her line of sight, I see it’s directed firmly at Romeo.

“He’s a little old for you, don’t you think?”

Her eyes narrow when her attention snaps back to me. “You sound like him,” she grumbles as she abruptly turns and stalks away.

“Lucia,” I say, following after her. It’s not until we enter the rear of the house that I’m finally close enough to reach out and grab her arm. “I’m sorry.”

When she spins to face me, and I see tears cascading down her cheeks, I immediately pull her into a tight hug. “Oh, Lu-Lu.”

“I think he looks at me more like a little sister than a woman.”

“You’ve only been here a day; give it time.”

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