Wedding Dreams

by Kallypso Masters

  “That feels amazing, amore.”

  Her eyes twinkled—or were they tears? Just a moment longer, and he’d insist that she stop. But Angelina didn’t seem to want to put an end to this any more than he did. Instead, she reached for his balls and began massaging them.

  “If you don’t want my cum down your throat, bella, you might tread lightly there.”

  She continued to stroke his balls, which were now against her chin, so that each time she moved her mouth, she stimulated him from both sides.

  “I’m close to the point of no return!”

  She took him a little deeper, and he exploded. “Merda! You’re incredible!” His cum spilled down her throat until he eased her off his pulsating shaft. His hypersensitive cock continued to twitch as he pulled out ever so slowly.

  Angelina smiled up at him. “I hope you enjoyed my wedding present to you.”

  “Enjoyed is putting it lightly. How’d you learn to do that?” Skill like that came from more than watching videos.

  “With a small silicone dildo. I’ve been practicing for months to get beyond my gag reflex.”

  Marc helped her to her feet. “I think you succeeded.” He kissed her, his tongue exploring the mouth where his cock had been a minute ago. When he pulled away, he brushed the wet hair away from her face. “But no more practicing without me.”

  “That dildo was nothing compared to the amazing feeling of you in my throat.” She kissed him lightly. “I might need to rest my throat before the next time, though. Dio, that was intense!”

  “I assure you, I’ll be ready anytime you are. Now, let’s dry off and go to bed so I can get my tongue on your clit.”

  Her sharp intake of breath sounded like she hadn’t expected more, but Marc would spend the rest of his life pleasing this woman who had brought so much peace and joy to his life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The plane touched down in Milan the next day, and Marc stood to help Mrs. Milanesi up. Angelina couldn’t wait to get off Gunnar’s jet and begin exploring Marc’s homeland again, but when she began gathering her belongings, he stayed her hand.

  “Relax here, cara. I’ll be back for you momentarily.”

  She grinned. Did he plan on making love on the plane again? Might be a little awkward with Gunnar and Patrick onboard, but that didn’t stop them last year.

  “Mrs. Milanesi, you take good care of yourself. Thank you so much for making your way to Colorado for our wedding.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” In her Northern Italian dialect, she said to Marc as she cupped his chin, “Bambino mio, you take good care of your angel. She’s the only one for you.”

  “Don’t I know it. I’ll take excellent care of her.”

  The old woman then addressed them both. “And thank you for allowing me the experience of my first private jet flight. I didn’t mean to intrude on your honeymoon.”

  “Nonsense,” Angelina argued. “It’s been a delight to hear more stories about my husband’s boyhood years.” She winked at Marc before continuing. “My first private jet ride was last year when we came to see you.” She remembered fondly Marc’s effort to win her back taking her along on the trip—not just for the romantic elements but to show he could make her a part of his journey to find answers from his past. Man, had he ever succeeded, because she’d said yes to his proposal on the flight home.

  After she hugged and kissed the woman goodbye, Marc disembarked with his childhood caregiver to reunite her with her son-in-law. She wasn’t sure why he didn’t have her start through customs rather than wait here. Without Italian citizenship, it would take her longer, but she’d use the opportunity to ground herself.

  Placing a set of noise canceling headphones over her ears to listen to Bocelli’s melodic voice, she sat back, closed her eyes, and relaxed against the leather seat. Would he take her to dinner at the same place as last year? If so, she couldn’t wait to try something new on the menu.

  A hand stroked her upper arm, and she nearly jumped out of the seat. She opened her eyes to find Marc grinning down at her. Removing the headphones, she said, “I must have dozed off.”

  “I’m sorry if I woke you but wanted to tell you to buckle up before we take off again.”

  “You mean, this isn’t our honeymoon destination?”

  “No, amore.”

  He’d been secretive about their honeymoon destination, but when he’d offered Mrs. Milanesi a ride, she’d simply assumed it would be in the area of his birth. Asking wouldn’t elicit any response, so she buckled her seatbelt with anticipation as Marc took his seat across from her.

  At their cruising altitude, now that they were alone, he guided her to the U-shaped sofa and cradled her in his arms.

  The jolt when they landed jarred her awake. She glanced out the windows, but it looked like any other airport.

  After taking Gunnar and Patrick aside to thank them for the wedding gift of allowing them to be passengers on Gunnar’s jet and make arrangements for their rendezvous flight, Marc led Angelina down the stairs to the tarmac. At customs, the agent said, “Welcome to Catania. Is this your first visit here?”

  Without replying to the agent, Angelina turned and threw herself into Marc’s arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I mean Grazie, grazie, grazie. Marc, I never dreamed you’d bring me back to Sicily for our honeymoon. I haven’t been here since I lost my nonna.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see Sicily, so I did have ulterior motives.”

  “I thought you might bring me back to Italy, given the length of time the flight took, but I assumed we’d go to Lombardy or Tuscany again.”

  “Last year, I showed you some of the significant places from my childhood. Now you can show me the places you saw so often during visits to your nonna.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  Forty minutes later, she settled into the front seat of the sporty convertible Marc had rented. She rested her head against the leather and breathed in the salty air. Memories from childhood wafted through her mind.

  “Where are we staying?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Ahead of them, Mount Etna towered above the landscape with an expanse of thousands of buildings stretching out to the foot of the peak. When she thought he’d veer off toward the west, he kept driving closer and closer to the volcano. Was he taking her to see the volcano?

  “I never got this close to it as a kid.” Nonna lived in Marsala on the opposite end of the island and hadn’t been able to drive, so they’d pretty much stayed in that part of Sicily during her visits.

  “Seriously?”

  She shook her head then realized his gaze was on the road and said, “Nope.”

  He stopped the car at an overlook, and she took it all in. The terra-cotta roofs were so familiar.

  “How’d you like to spend the night on Etna?”

  “How close?”

  He chuckled. “Well, the hotel had to be rebuilt after the 1983 eruption and now sits on a lava bed.”

  Her heartbeat ramped up. While Marc would always be the adventurous one, she was a little excited about being in such close proximity to such a powerful, volatile force of nature.

  Oh, and being close to Mount Etna was a thrill, too.

  Spontaneously, she unbuckled her seatbelt and launched herself at him, being careful not to move the stick shift. He quickly adjusted his seat away from the steering wheel to accommodate her in his lap.

  “Marc, it’s amazing! I can’t believe we’re here.”

  “Well, we aren’t there yet.” His fingers pushed the hair away from her cheeks, and he pulled her closer for a kiss. His hand lowered to cup her breast and pinch her nipple before he took her by the shoulders and set her back in her seat with a sigh. “If we sit here much longer, I’m going to have you straddling my hips with my cock buried deep inside your pussy.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “What if that’s what I want right now?”

  He tapped her nose. “I’d tell you an
ticipation is good for you.” No surprise there. He often told her that. “Besides, we have dinner reservations tonight. Buckle up again, and let’s go.”

  “Yes, Sir!” Marc hadn’t been this Dom-like in months. She couldn’t wait to have him all to herself for the remainder of this honeymoon. Well, mostly to herself. She did have a lot of relatives on the island. Unless he chose not to tell anyone they were here. They were on their honeymoon, after all. Her family would understand if they kept to themselves, assuming they even knew they were in Sicily.

  Back in her seat, she took in the fast-moving scenery as they sped through the streets of Catania on their way to Mount Etna. Angelina wanted to pinch herself to see if this was real.

  “Your cousins told me at the wedding that we’d have to pay a visit to Marsala to see the family members who didn’t make it to the States last week, especially your great uncles and aunts.”

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you so much for that!” Would she recognize Nonna’s house? If not, her relatives would be able to point it out to her.

  “But we’re staying on this side of the island the first few days.” He pointed toward the volcano. “Want to take a tour of the crater tomorrow?”

  “You don’t think it will have an eruption while we’re here, do you?”

  He gave a shrug. “There were some fireworks in March, but she’s been quiet since then. Still, it’s exciting to spend our first two nights on the volcano.”

  Always the thrill seeker. A sudden thought made her heart jump into her throat. “Please tell me we aren’t camping on our honeymoon.”

  His laugh was long and hearty. “No, my lovely bride. I know your hard limits. We might camp out on a beach in Taormina in a few days, but for the next two nights, we’re staying in a modern hotel.”

  “Still, being so close to Etna will be a thrilling adventure. As long as there’s a bed, a bathroom, and my sexy husband, I’m good to go!”

  * * *

  Marc had been planning this trip for six months, and the Hotel Corsaro didn’t disappoint. Not as luxurious as his family’s Bella Montagna by any stretch, the view of Mount Etna outside their window made up for it.

  As he guided her out for a stroll in the gardens, the scents of floral herbs and the Mediterranean evening surrounded them. “I can’t believe I’m in Sicily—with you,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “Thank you so much. You’ve made me happy beyond words.”

  He stopped and took her into his arms as he stared into her face. “And I’ll be happy wherever I am, as long as you’re with me.”

  Tomorrow, they would hike the forest and go up to the crater on a tour, but after the long flight, all he wanted to do was take his wife to bed. After enjoying some exquisite Sicilian meals, of course.

  They had dinner reservations in an hour at Rifugio Sapienza, and their seafood had come highly recommended. Thank goodness it was only a few miles away, though, because Marc couldn’t wait any longer to touch his wife.

  He lifted Angelina’s hair from her neck and placed a kiss there then another near her collarbone. Her pulse pounded against his lips. They’d certainly made love numerous times in the honeymoon suite on their wedding night and the next morning—and enjoyed a much-needed spanking to get her mind off what was happening at her restaurant—but he’d barely touched her since then. She’d been going nonstop for a week to prepare for the wedding, and he had wanted her to catch up on her sleep during the flight.

  He cupped her breast and squeezed before pinching her nipple. Her moan told him all he needed to know. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the bed where he placed her on her feet. Standing behind her, he began removing her clothing, which hindered his being able to take her at the moment.

  “I can undress myself, sweetheart.” She reached for the hem of her blouse, but he stilled her hands.

  “It’s more fun when I do it.”

  Angelina raised her hands. “I won’t argue with you there. But hurry. You said we have dinner reservations.”

  He swatted her ass. “Who’s in charge in our bedroom—wherever that bedroom may be?”

  “You—most of the time.”

  “Brat.”

  She giggled, but when she tried to dance away from him, Marc yanked the blouse over her head to prove he’d be calling the shots. He tossed it on a nearby chair before wrapping his arms around her to fiddle with the bra clasp between her breasts. He could have released it in a second but took his time, pinching her nipples between his knuckles while playfully fumbling around.

  “Need help?”

  He growled.

  “Sorry, Sir.” She leaned back against him as if to let him have his fun. A few moments later, he spread the scraps of material open and turned her to face him. Bending, he took one swollen nipple into his mouth. She grabbed the back of his head with both hands as if to hold him captive. Later tonight, he’d definitely be making use of the restraints he’d packed. No time for that now.

  Latching onto her nipple with his teeth, he pulled away until she squealed in pain to remind her who was in control. He released the swollen peak, grinning as her breast bounced back into a resting position—for the time being. “Remove your shoes then interlock your hands behind your head.”

  Angelina complied while he positioned some pillows on the bed. He knelt down in front of her to draw her slacks down her legs, and she stepped out of them. He left on the panties for now. She wouldn’t be wearing them the rest of the night, so he’d enjoy their sexiness a little while.

  With his hands on her ass, he pulled her crotch to his face and inhaled her essence. She stiffened, no doubt worried that she hadn’t showered since they’d left the Eagle airport, but to her credit, she didn’t tell him to stop. She still had her hang-ups about certain things he enjoyed the hell out of. But he’d been thinking about eating her pussy all the way across the Atlantic, so nothing short of a safeword would stop him.

  That’s probably all he’d have time to do to her before dinner anyway. He’d have her screaming his name, along with a few choice curse words, multiple times within the next half hour, with no thoughts in her head about anything but reaching her first climax. Merda, he so loved to tease and torment her.

  Releasing his hold, he sat back on his heels. “Remove your panties and lie on your back with your ass on the pillows.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She shimmied out of her panties, and he enjoyed the view of her bare mound and flashes of her pussy lips as she assumed the position.

  It took every ounce of effort to keep from diving right in, but instead, he began nipping at the insides of her knees, slowly blazing a trail upward. When she could barely lie still on the bed, he ceased his kisses until her squirming stopped.

  Locking his arms around her thighs, he simply stared at her already wet pussy a few moments. He’d never tire of the sight. He lowered his face until his tongue slid the length of her cleft. Sweet as honey. His thumbs pulled her lips apart, and he blew on her clit until she squirmed, but she remembered her discipline and didn’t hurry him along.

  Without warning, he flicked his tongue back and forth on her clit, and she gasped and tensed before pressing her pussy against him again. Removing his right hand from around her thigh, he dipped his middle finger inside her then quickly added a second finger. So wet for him. His cock strained against his zipper. He plunged in and out as his tongue flicked in ever-increasing movements against her clit.

  “Sir, permission to come!”

  Aw, fuck. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sit at the dinner table with her tonight knowing how hot and wet she was for him if he didn’t get more than a taste right now. Maybe there was time for a quickie and both of them could get some relief. Standing, he undid his pants and removed them, her gaze alternating between his cock and his face. Her smile told him she wanted him deep inside her, too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Come on! Don’t keep me waiting!

  Marc’s infuriating smile had her
close to shouting those words, but she fought for what little control she could muster. After an interminable wait, he rested his upper body on one arm while positioning his cock against her opening. It wouldn’t take much more friction against her clit for her to explode.

  Hurry, Marc! I need this!

  She’d been insatiable since their wedding night. He teased his cock between her soaking wet opening and equally wet clit. So close.

  Marc lowered himself over her body, resting on both forearms now. “Look at me.” She met his gaze seconds before he plowed into her pussy to the hilt. Her eyes opened wide, and she had to fight the urge to close them without permission but still managed to savor the moment of intense fullness before he pulled almost completely out of her. “I love watching you take me.”

  “And I love being taken by you.” Now, get it in gear, sailor. I need to come!

  She tilted her hips slightly to invite him back in, and he buried himself again then withdrew. Why was he taking so long to get to the pace she needed to climax?

  “Is my bride impatient with her groom?”

  Direct question. “Hell, yes!”

  “Are you ready?”

  “More than.”

  “You do not have permission to come until I tell you.”

  And with that, he began to piston her so hard her clit was stimulated with each thrust. He lowered his mouth to first one nipple, which he sucked and nipped, and then the other. Stimulation on three fronts was almost more than she could take, and her entire body shook with her effort to hold back the orgasm wanting to tear through her.

  “Marc, please! I need to come.”

  He released her nipple and smiled down at her, his hips never slowing down. She gritted her teeth as a sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. She grasped the sheets and fought to hold on. Then he slipped his hand between their bodies and stroked her clit.

  “Mio Dio!” She wasn’t going to be able to withstand this latest barrage of sensations.