Page 131 of Duty and Desire

I beamed. “Surprise.”

I’d given my father’s bedroom a makeover in readiness for our first night of married life, and the transformation was awesome. The bed was still huge, but it was nothing like the heavily varnished ornate one that had stood in its place. The wood glowed with a warmth all of its own, and the rest of the furniture matched. Blinds had replaced curtains, and instead of a chandelier as the main light source, there were lamps spilling their warm light into every corner.

The door that had once led into my father’s study, now provided access to Gio’s writing room, with a printer, more bookshelves, and a monitor. He’d taken one look at the room before seizing me in a tight hug.

The palace was quiet. We’d taken a walk out in the gardens to peer up at the stars, as if both of us were delaying the moment we knew was coming.

To make it all the sweeter.

The door was locked, the lamps glowed, and I had to smile at the sight of the bottle on the bedside table.

“Tell me you put the lube there, and not someone from housekeeping. Or Claudia, for that matter.” She was my best friend, but there were limits.

Gio laughed. “Relax. It was me.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and drew me to him. “Hey there… husband.”

I pressed closer, breathing in his familiar scent. I could smell the soft spice of wine from dinner that lingered on his lips.

Finally.

I molded my body to his, and we moved together as if answering acall neither of us had ever spoken aloud, but had felt. I let my hands map the curve of his shoulders, the length of his spine, relearning what had never been forgotten.

Gio sighed against my lips, and I drank the sound in as if it were the only thing that had ever mattered.

We were in no rush.

We kissed until breath became meaningless, until the world beyond the outer walls ceased to exist. Until there was nothing left but the slow, steady unraveling of two souls drawn together by something neither of us could fight or name.

I brought my fingers to the buttons of Gio’s shirt, then gazed at him, a silent question. He answered by guiding my hand, until I could feel the heat and hardness of him, our foreheads pressed together, my name a whisper on his lips.

At last there was nothing left but bare flesh glowing in the lamplight. We sank into the waiting sheets, hands and mouths discovering, rediscovering. There were no words anymore, just the language of touch, of slow sighs and ghosted breaths. I pressed a kiss to the hollow of Gio’s throat, to the curve of his shoulder, each touch a promise, each moment a vow as real as the ones I’d made earlier.

Gio clung to me. “I’m scared,” he whispered.

I stilled. “Of what?

“That any second now, I’m going to open my eyes and find this is all a dream.”

I smiled. “Welcome to reality.”

We rolled beneath soft sheets, leisurely at first, but we soon gave full rein to our passion, our bodies entwined, our breaths mingling. I couldn’t keep my low cries of pleasure fettered, and Gio matched me, moan for moan, until I was sure my heart would burst with joy.

When we fell into stillness, tangled in the sheets, in each other, I felt something shift deep within me.

A door unbarred.

A cage unlocked.

I was free.

Gio traced a lazy pattern across my damp chest, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and something softer, deeper.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. It wasn’t a demand or a question.

It was the truth.

I tightened my hold around him, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple.

“And you’re mine.”