77

MILLIE
A pause hung in the air, my gaze fixed upon the ebbing tide. Memories of my fears, still vivid after three months of marriage, surged forth. Yet, here I was, seated beside Gio, sipping champagne on the beach, feeling safer and more cherished than ever before. Gio’s touch tightened ever so slightly at my side, an unspoken reassurance amid my revelations.
Unwavering, I continued, “Our father’s temper had its moments, especially towards Harper, but I couldn’t shake the concern that you might wield a harsher hand. Admittedly sheltered, I couldn’t help but overhear the hushed conversations of women, their whispers of how Made Men treated their wives. Those tales terrified me and you, you are not just any Made Man, but the Vice.” Courage surged through me, bolstered by Gio’s presence, as I laid my thoughts bare. “We may be in the early days of our marriage, yet if you continue to treat me as you do now, I can’t help but believe that I’ve found a level of happiness I once deemed unattainable. I recognize my fortune every time sympathetic glances come my way, tinged with the understanding that I am now your wife.”
In that poignant moment, our eyes finally locked, bridging the gap between our souls. The play of shadows upon his chiseled features seemed almost like a dance, but it was his eyes that held my attention most. They glowed with a fierce intensity, pulsating with emotions that seemed to consume him. I found myself captivated, unable to look away.
“Why is it,” I found myself asking, my voice barely more than a whisper, “that you’re not the same feared monster when you’re with me?”
His response didn’t come in words, but in the inhalation of a deep breath. I held my breath, awaiting his answer, hoping that the truth would unravel before me. And then, in a voice laden with the weight of his convictions, he spoke, “Because I choose not to be. I yearn for goodness and purity in the part of my life that belongs to you. The rest, as you know, is entwined with violence and death. The capacity for cruelty courses through my very veins, and I willingly embrace the role of the feared beast they see when I’m away from you. It aligns with my nature, a nature I oddly relish. But with you, Millie, it’s different-always different. I swear, I would never bring that darkness into our space.”
My head tilted in curiosity as I absorbed his words. “Can you truly make such an oath?”
He deliberated, a contemplative pause hanging between us like a suspended heartbeat. Then, a soft admission escaped his lips, “Yes, unless you were to commit an unforgivable act that rends my restraint.”
“And then?” I prodded gently, eager for the full picture.
A sound, almost a growl, emerged from him, his lips brushing my temple as if seeking solace in my touch. “I’d like to believe it won’t ever come to that.”
I nodded thoughtfully, the weight of his promise settling around us. To lighten the atmosphere, I took a sip of champagne, savoring the effervescence that mirrored the sparkles in his eyes.
Then, unexpectedly, his tone darkened, his question piercing the tranquil air. “Did your father ever lay a hand on you after our engagement?”
My response hesitated, the quiet admission of silence conveying more than words could.
In that silence, Gio found his answer, his body tensing involuntarily. “I warned him against ever touching you.”
Reaching out, I placed my hand on his forearm, my touch a reassurance against the haunting shadows of the past. “Gio, that’s behind us now. Let’s not allow it to mar our present.”
It was evident that he struggled to release the grip of the past, his reluctance palpable. But I resolved to practice what I preached. Emptying my glass and setting it down, I extricated myself from his embrace, rising gracefully to my feet. As my dress cascaded to the sand beside him, his gaze locked onto me with a mixture of eagerness and longing. The illumination was scarce, derived from the yacht’s spotlights and the modest solar lamp that Gio had thoughtfully positioned on the blanket.
A gentle breeze ruffled my hair as I looked down at him, my smile a silent invitation. He too stood, shedding his clothes with a fluid grace that sent a shiver of anticipation racing down my spine. The moonlight traced his contours, and my fingers itched to explore every inch of him.
With a step, he closed the distance, his nudity a testament to his vulnerability. Our lips met in a kiss that held the promise of eternity, and as his hands moved over my body, tracing paths of fire, I reciprocated. Desire surged between us, drowning out the world, leaving only his touch and the promise of what was to come.
Breathless, I eased away, finding my voice amidst the heady sensations. “I want to revisit that position,” I confessed, a mix of boldness and anticipation coloring my words.
With a subtle nod, Gio expressed his agreement, but his apprehension was evident in his demeanor as we settled onto the soft blanket spread out beneath us. The gentle warmth of the sun enveloped us as I positioned myself with my back turned to him. Slowly, I lowered myself onto my hands and knees, a rush of nervous excitement making my stomach twist and turn. Oddly, this particular position seemed to evoke more concern within me compared to any others. It was as if I feared that Gio might draw comparisons between me and his previous lovers. The memory of him and Alyssa together played in my mind the intensity of their passion, the uninhibited way Gio had unleashed himself. The involuntary tension that sometimes gripped my body at the least opportune moments threatened to emerge again, amplified by the unease that unfamiliar positions could bring.
A calming stroke of Gio’s hand along my back immediately eased some of my tension, the gesture carrying a reverence that melted my worries under its gentle touch. As he pressed his body against mine, there was no immediate penetration. Instead, his touch ventured around me, igniting tingles of pleasure along my skin. A moan escaped my lips as I instinctively shifted back slightly, allowing the tip of Gio’s desire to find its place within me. The initial intrusion prompted a deep breath to escape him, and then he began to gradually delve deeper. In that moment, as he filled every inch of me, the reason behind his preference for this position became abundantly clear. The sensation of him being deeper than ever before was overwhelming, and I had to consciously regulate my breathing to accommodate the new intensity. It felt like a stretch that tested my limits.
Gio’s hands found their place on my hips, his grip firm yet not forceful, as he initiated a slow and measured retreat before gently pushing back inside. The rhythm he established was unhurried, almost tender in its cadence. Step by step, my body adapted to the unique angle, and though it initially provoked discomfort, it gradually transformed into an exquisite blend of sensation and pleasure. Despite my urge to match his unhurried pace with faster undulations of my hips, Gio’s fingers tightened on my waist, holding me back. His voice, laced with a low growl, conveyed his instruction. “No, love. You’re still holding tension around me.”
“I don’t mind,” I managed to utter through a haze of desire. “You can move faster.”
Gio’s lean form leaned forward, his movement pushing him even deeper within me. I inhaled sharply as his chest met my back, the intimate closeness sparking a shiver of excitement. “No, I can’t,” he responded, a gravelly edge to his voice. “Not if it causes you pain.”
Desperation and longing surged within me, and I dared to voice my desires. “I want you to find pleasure.”
His reply was swift and sincere, carrying a weight that touched my heart. “I derive no pleasure from causing you pain, believe me. We have a lifetime ahead to explore every nuance. Don’t burden yourself with perceived expectations. In my eyes, you surpass them all.”