My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon

I circle my hips a bit, nowhere near as gracefully as Abigail did, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Letting my hands trace along the buttons of my shirt, I open them one by one to expose my chest.

Abigail’s eyes widen with hunger, and I take her shaking hands in mine, guiding her to touch me. Her fingers delicately dance along my abs, over my chest, and back down to tease along my waistband. I pump my hips forward and back, and I see her chest heaving in time with my movements.

It’s not part of the rules, not part of the dance, but Abigail leans forward and presses a gentle kiss right below my belly button. “Mio Dio,” I hiss and then simply lift her out of the chair to stand before me.

Our tongues twist and go so deep I swear we pour ourselves into each other’s souls with this kiss.

When the announcements come, we don’t win, but I don’t care. I’m too far gone, too desperate for her. I pull Abigail off the dance floor, ignoring the crowd’s cheers, especially Emily’s, and head toward the staircase downstairs to search for one thing . . .

“Here,” I growl, finding an empty room. I shove Abigail inside and lock the door behind us. I consider trying to reign in my hunger, not wanting to scare her, but to my delight, Abigail pushes her sundress down and unties her top to free her tits before pulling the loose ruffles of the skirt up to reveal that tiny bikini bottom.

“Fuck me, Lorenzo. Take what’s yours,” she says breathlessly as she turns to bend forward over the bed.

I’m so aroused I’ve lost my English and resort to muttering nonsense in Italian about how sexy she is, how fortunate I am, and all the filthy things I want to do her. She doesn’t understand a word, but still, her hips buck in the air as she looks for relief from this ache.

I rip my shirt off and drop my swimsuit to the floor. “Mia rosa,” I say gently as I line up with her pussy. It’s her one last chance, one last kindness I can offer before I unleash on her.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control. Clean,” she moans.

“Me too,” I grunt as I split her open with a single thrust. “Ugh, yes.”

We’ve had tender moments talking on the beach and in bed after slow and sweet lovemaking. We’ve had naughty moments like nearly coming in the middle of yoga class and long, torturous orgasms pulled from the depths of our souls. But never have we just rutted like a pair of wild animals, my hips slamming into Abigail’s ass again and again. But while my cock claims her pussy, she looks over her shoulder and her lips claim mine.

I feel like a man and an animal all at once, my cock spearing her to send waves of pleasure smashing through her body. She doesn’t fuck me back. I’m in control, holding her hips as I pound into her. But she grips the blanket with one hand and reaches back to grab my ass with the other, urging me deeper and harder.

“Oh, my God, yes! More, Lorenzo—” she pants out. “Claim every inch of me. Make me yours.”

Fuck yes. It hits me like a shot of pure white lightning. That’s what I want. For Abigail Andrews to be mine. Not just her body, not just for this moment of wild passion, but in truth.

I growl, my words coming in short grunts of Italian as I speed up.

“Il mio . . .” Mine.

“Sempre . . .” Always.

“Mia rosa . . .amore.” My rose . . . love.

“Amore,” Abigail repeats. She doesn’t speak Italian, but that’s a pretty obvious one. Looking back at me, her eyes are dark and vulnerable, asking if I mean what she means. She won’t give me any more of her heart until she’s sure.

I’m sure. In this moment, I am surer of this than I’ve ever been of anything. Violet’s warning should ring through my head, but it doesn’t. Not at all.

I am simply lost in Abigail—her beauty, her passion, her boldness, and even her quirky weirdness, as she calls it.

“Come, Abigail,” I beg her, holding back so fiercely that I’m trembling on the edge.

I hold her upright, my arms wrapping across her chest and hips to keep her pressed to my body. Every inch of us is connected, at the skin level and so much deeper. I tease a finger over her clit and instantly feel her clench down on me as she cries out, and then the pulsing rhythm of her pussy triggers my own orgasm.

We buck into each other, jets of my cum filling her as I rub her clit in smooth circles to draw out more and more pleasure for us both.