Page 45 of The Vow

“Is it safe, can you even-”

“Relax, it’s probably melted by now, it’s fine,” he said.

“The bedsheets-”

“You already ruined them earlier Princess, gushing on them, might as well get wetter.”

“Oh God.”

“Yeah, you need ice down there, after all that heat and friction.”

“I’m going to get a UTI, aren’t I?”

Carmelo licked unabashedly and snickered.

“Sergeant,” she slurred, “more.”

And he was only too happy to oblige, all night long.

Carmelo

He woke with a jolt, unsure where he was.

Hotel room.

Next to her. Lena Zakarian. Mafia daughter and his fiancée.

Fuck.

He rubbed his face with a palm, turning over to see his clock on his phone. Just past 5am.

He rolled back to look at her. She was sleeping peacefully. Deeply. Her mouth slightly open, on her side, gripping the duvet to her bare chest. Legs out, skin so delicious against the white sheets. That silky black long hair, looking like a fucking Princess.

Carmelo rubbed his forehead. Was he hungover?

No, he’d barely drunk anything last night, thank fuck.

But he’d had his fair share of mind altering substances. Her. He’d drunk too much of her, sure enough.

This was so surreal. Here he was, at a hotel after an evening banquet, tasting for the wedding. Their wedding. A mafia princess who he barely knew.

But he did know, only too well, after all.

He knew how she smelled in the morning. He knew how she gasped when she came. He knew the curves and contours of her naked body. He’d kissed her. He’d touched her with his hands and his mouth in almost every place he could. He’d had her nipples between his teeth and her hair in his fists.

Fuck.

He had to get up, get out of there.

He stood gently, trying not to pull at the bedsheets as he moved away. He looked down at his naked body, his semi-erect cock. Her barbell in the tip. He moved about the room, picking up his boxers, his trousers. He caught sight of the little tattoo on his coccyx, just above and between his butt cheeks, in the mirror. He almost tutted and shook his head at himself. Stuff was all over the floor. Her panties. His shirt, scattered far from the bed. The vibrator. He stooped, picked it up, took it into the bathroom, washed it up for her. After a piss and hastily pulling his clothes back on, he took one final look back at her before quietly opening the door.

Maybe this was the last time he’d see her. But he knew already, this was past the point of no return. He slipped out of the door, closing it softly behind him, into the cooler corridor.

And straight into the chest of Ardian.

“Fuck!” Carmelo exclaimed, bouncing off the guy’s solid chest.

“What the actual-” Ardian also seemed shocked.