Page 54 of The Proposal

“Keep going,” I plead, and he does as I ask, pumping in and out of me in short, languid strokes. He doesn’t appear to mind the slow pace; the tension in his shoulders is the only indication this isn’t easy for him.

After a while, the pain starts diminishing, and there are even short spurts of pleasure. “Come, Dante … don’t hold back.”

“I want you to come again,Bellezza,” he grunts, but I already know that’s not going to happen.

“Please, don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” he counters.

“I’m okay, honestly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I will need to speed up if you want me to finish. Do you think you can handle that?”

I widen my legs and move my hands down to cup his backside, pushing him further inside as I ignore the pain that inflicts. “I can handle it. Give me everything you’ve got.”

He places a chaste kiss on my forehead before re-burying his face in the crook of my neck. I suck in a sharp breath and hold it as he rests all his weight on me, pushing me further into the mattress.

Each thrust he makes is harder, faster, and deeper than the last. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I taste something metallic, which I can only assume is blood.

I start singing an old Italian lullaby,Farfallina Bella e Bianca(Little butterfly, beautiful and white), to distract myself from the pain.

It’s a song Mamma used to sing to Lucia and me about a beautiful white butterfly fluttering around without growing tired. It comes across a fragrant red flower, then a bright sunflower. When the sun rises, the butterfly finally rests, falling into a peaceful sleep.

“Arabellaaaa,” Dante groans, snapping me back into reality. His movements suddenly become jerky, and I feel him expand inside me. It’s not until he shudders and releases a long, drawn-out groan that I know it’s over.

I did it.

I hold my breath as he withdraws and drops down beside me on the mattress, dragging me closer.

I roll onto my side as my lips curve at the corners. Despitehow much that hurt, I have no regrets for giving this man my virginity. It’s not lost on me how traumatised that act would’ve been if it had happened the night of our wedding.

My opinion of him has completely shifted since then, and I know wholeheartedly he just tried his hardest to make it as best as he could for me.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Never been better,” he pants, still a little breathless.

“I’m sorry I ruined that moment for you.”

“Bellezza,” he whispers, lifting his head to kiss my lips softly. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” I ask when his head drops back down onto the pillow.

“You finally gave me your body,and now I’m going to work on winning your heart.”

I gasp. “You want my heart too?”

“Don’t sound so shocked. I want every part of you, Mrs Mancini … and I’m confident I’ll get it one day.”

I lie back down, resting my cheek against his chest, letting the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat ground me. My grin widens as his words echo in my mind.

This man.

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