Page 24 of Her Italian Wedding (Sweet Treats 9)

I shoot a warning look at my friend, and he nods.

“Matteo’s right,” Domenico agrees in a low voice. “You mean more to us than any cuisine, language, or food. You and the baby mean more to us than Europe, America, and the rest of the world put together. You belong with us, Melissa, and where you go, Matteo and I will follow. You mean that much to us.”

With that, Melissa begins to cry. Soft tears drop down her round cheeks, and she is so beautiful. My heart contracts with love and my throat tightens a bit.

“Do you mean it?” Melissa asks in a choked voice. “Because I adore you, and I want us to be a family. All four of us,” she adds. “It wouldn’t be right for us to live on separate continents when there’s a baby in the mix.”

“Of course it wouldn’t be right,” I growl, softly stroking those glossy brown curls. “We will be together no matter what, cara, because we adore you. You are our sun, moon, stars, and now with a child on the way, you are our entire galaxy.”

Domenico takes a deep breath too.

“Will you take us for who we are, Melissa? As the two, stupid, imperfect Italian fools who worship the ground your feet walk on? Who will sing ballads to you, just like Romeo declaring his love for Juliet?”

Melissa laughs then, and I can feel the tension in the air resolve itself.

“Yes, Domenico. Yes, Matteo. I accept you for who you are, just as you have always accepted me and made me feel wanted. I love you both, and with you, our romance will blossom forever.”

With that, we gather the curvy girl into our arms while pressing feverish kisses to her mouth. After all, Melissa came to Italy to be the Milan Lodge’s First Daughter. But now, with a baby on the way, all of our plans have changed.

But you know what? It doesn’t matter. Dads and Daughters will always have a supply of truckers and willing women, and the line will be out the window to join. Our eyes are fixed on more important things because the curvy girl is all we desire, and with Melissa in our arms, our world is complete.

Epilogue

Melissa

Six months later.

I squeal a bit as Matteo and Domenico take turns using me from behind. There’s a blindfold on my eyes so that I can’t see who it is, but I can feel their big forms shifting behind me. One, two, one, two. The long pushes in and out are so titillating that I moan deliriously, loving the deep penetration.

One man grips my hips, pushing in to his full length. I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

“Can you tell who this is?” he groans.

I giggle a bit.

“It’s you, Matteo.”

Then he pulls out, and Domenico takes his place. The second man is enormous and curved to the left. When his hardness hits my sweet spot, I squeal again.

“Oooh, Domenico, that feels so nice,” is my breathy cry. “More!”

The two men chuckle behind me.

“Are you sure you can take more, cara?” Domenico asks in a low voice. “After all, you’re due to give birth any day now.”

It’s true. My big belly is enormous, and it sways gently as the two men slide into me from behind. They’ve put a cushion beneath my stomach to absorb some of the movement, but I feel totally fine. If anything, the sensation of serving my men makes my pregnancy more pleasurable.

After all, it’s been an interesting pregnancy. If anything, my two boyfriends coddle me a bit too much. Matteo and Domenico are constantly trying to get me to sit down or eat more. They pamper me non-stop, and the truth is that I love it.

But I try to make them happy as well, because Matteo and Domenico have moved permanently to the United States. We haven’t worked out everything yet, and they’re still in the process of applying for a green card. But we moved into a suite at the local Lodge, and Matteo and Domenico have taken to driving trucks all across the continental U.S.

It’s been wonderful, to be honest. We fit right into the community here, and I’ve joined the roster of daughters who are currently expecting. We’re all friends, and I’ve learned so much about nursing, baby bottles, and different strollers from just talking with the other mothers.

But right now, my men are set on enjoying me. They pump in and out, low grunts and gasps escaping their deep throats.

“Oh sweetheart,” Domenico moans. “You’ve always known who was who, haven’t you? It’s never been a mystery for you.”

I giggle a bit through my breathy gasps.

“I have,” is my admission. “I knew practically from the first time you two took me, way back when. Do you remember? It was while you were showing me the reverse cut-outs at the Milan Lodge.”

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