Fulfillment (Book 3 in The Temptation Series) (45 page)

He growled as
he leaned into me, his mouth finding my neck, my hands finding his
cock. I pulled my G-string aside, exposing my wet flesh, and with
quick precision, guided him into me.

“Oh, God!” I
moaned with pleasure as he slid so perfectly in place.

I wrapped my
legs around his waist, securing him deep and tight as my pussy
clenched down on him in acceptance.

“Fuck, I love
it when you squeeze me like that,” he said through gritted teeth,
his words sending a fiery passion into my ears right down to my
stomach.

“I love you so
much, Bryce,” I moaned, as he rolled his pelvis into me, over and
over.

He thrust hard
and deep. “I love you, too, Alexis.”

With my orgasm
teetering; ready to wash over me, I dug my fingernails deep into
his flesh and waited for that surge of pleasure. When it rolled
through me I dragged them down his back uncontrollably, forcing an
animalistic growl from Bryce that vibrated right through me.
Holy fuck of all fucks.

Panting, I
shuddered with sensation, closing my eyes and going limp. Bryce did
the same, relaxing some of his weight on top of me. He was heavy
and making it more difficult to breathe, but I didn’t care. There
was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to feel his moist,
warm body against mine.

***

We had taken a
nap after making love, not really having the energy to do anything
else. Bryce had then gone to his meeting as scheduled and come back
in time for dinner. We were still suffering the effects of jet lag
and over exertion from many sexed-up encounters, so we’d gone to
bed early in the hope we’d be fresh for our sightseeing the next
day.

When I woke up
the following morning, there was a rose on my pillow together with
a note informing me that he had gone to the hotel’s gym. It gave me
some time to clear my head from an exciting yet terrifying prospect
I had deliberately been ignoring over the past week. The longer I
ignored it, the possibility that it was true only excited me more,
but I was too scared to take the plunge and find out, scared to be
disappointed.

As I stood in
the bathroom, naked after dropping my robe, I looked down at my
belly and lightly rubbed my hand over the precious spot I hoped
housed another baby. My period was a week overdue and I was
apprehensive to confirm why, but the longer I left it the more
nervous I became. I decided I would wait until we got back home to
buy a test, not wanting to be saddened on our trip if the result
was negative. I sighed with mixed feelings as I stepped into the
shower.

Not too long
after, Bryce appeared in the bathroom, sweat stained and gloriously
glossy, his workout towel draped over the back of his neck and his
pants hanging low on his hips.
He is simply torturous.

He stripped
off and joined me, telling me about the steam room and how he
wanted to get one built at City Towers.

“Actually, I
might get a private one built out on the balcony. Making love to
you in a steam-filled room is definitely on my list of things to
do, and soon.”

I laughed.
“Sounds hot!”

“You’re
punny,” he said cleverly.

I smacked his
chest lightly. “Come on, we’ve got so much to see today.”

The hotel was
situated in the middle of Rome’s high-end shopping district, but as
tempting as shopping in Rome sounded at that moment, I was keen to
see the Vatican City and the Colosseum.

We finished
our shower and dressed warmly, although, it was not bitter cold,
and surprisingly once the sun came out, it was a beautiful fresh
day. A limousine was waiting at the front of the hotel to take us
the short distance across the Tiber River to the Vatican City. I
was beyond excited at the prospect of seeing famous places and
landmarks up close and in person, giving me the ability to decide
for myself as to their brilliance and stature.

As the
limousine approached, I spotted the top of St. Peter’s Basilica,
and tingles of exhilaration prickled all over me. When the
limousine finally stopped, I wrenched the door open and let myself
out, breaking protocol and surprising the driver.

“Alexis,”
Bryce chuckled, “you might want to wait for me.”

“You snooze,
you lose,” I called back with a smile as I headed for St. Peter’s
Square.

The sound of
the limo door shutting came quickly, and his footsteps gaining on
me followed. I squealed when I felt his arms scoop me up. “I’ll
never let you get away.”

I placed my
hands on his shoulders as he helped slide me back onto my feet.
“I’ll never want to,” I whispered to his lips. “Now let me go. We
have sightseeing to do.”

Walking around
a place so rich with history, art and religion was not only a
wonderful experience, it was made even more wonderful by being able
to share that experience with Bryce. We held hands as we strolled
through the Apostolic Palace and Sistine Chapel, getting a sore
neck from the long endured craning to really appreciate
Michelangelo’s painted masterpiece.

After a quick
lunch at a café and an espresso to keep me awake for days, we
headed to the Colosseum. As we approached the ancient ruin, I
couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve looked like in its prime.
Of course I’d seen pictures and movies depicting it standing
vibrant and full of spectators to a brutal battle of gladiators,
but to see it in the flesh in all its glory would’ve been amazing.
I was surprised at how much of the amphitheatre had collapsed and
it saddened me. Unfortunately, preventing destruction by natural
forces was impossible.

***

We arrived
back at our suite in the late afternoon.

“Are you
feeling lucky today?” I asked Bryce as I slumped on the bed.

“What?” he
shot out, as if I’d sprung him doing something suspect.

I lifted my
upper body from the bed, propping myself up on my elbows. “Maybe
you’re not feeling so lucky then.”

“Sorry, I was
just thinking about something,” he said dismissively. “Am I feeling
lucky? I hope so. You have no idea how lucky I hope to feel,
why?”

“Because...I
was going to let you rub my feet. They are fucked.”

He walked
toward the bed, removing his shoes in the process. “It must be my
lucky day then.”

He had a grin
so wide it made me scoff and roll my eyes. “Whatever floats your
boat, Mr. Clark.”

He took hold
of my foot, the one I broke, and gently removed my shoe. I watched
him delicately trace his fingertips over my scar. “How does it
feel?”

I lowered
myself back down to the mattress with a thud. “Good, although I
gave it a good test today.”

“Well, we
won’t be walking tonight.”

“Tonight?” I
queried, feeling a little too exhausted for anything.

“Yes, I have a
special reservation.”

“Where? What
are we having?”

“Italian.”

I playfully
kicked him with my other foot. “Derrr.”

***

I was
pleasantly surprised when we stepped out of the hotel to find a
scooter instead of the limousine. Bryce handed me my helmet and put
his on—the one I bought him for Christmas.

“Scooter?
Really?” I asked, astonished and unsure if I was excited or
not.

“We are in
Italy. It’s the best way to get around.”

“I’m going to
ruin my hair.” I said while looking at the helmet.

“Nothing about
you can be ruined, Hunny.”

I tilted my
head to the side and gave him a cynical grin. “If only that were
true.”

Sliding on the
helmet, I positioned myself onto the scooter behind him, thankful I
was wearing pants.

Bryce had laid
out clothes on the bed for me like he’d done so many times before,
and it now dawned on me that he had chosen my dark denim skinny
jeans, Louboutin boots and my Dolce & Gabbana blouse and blazer
for a very good reason.

I hugged him
tightly, clenching my thighs around his hips and shouting through
the helmet. “It’s not the Harley, but it’s a start,” I gave him
another squeeze as he took off, my initial squeal being left at the
curb.

We pulled up
to Ristorante Di Tony, a cute little Italian restaurant in a quiet
part of the city. It was not the type of restaurant he would
normally choose as this one seemed far from fancy. Don’t get me
wrong, it was lovely, quaint and from the sidewalk appeared homely.
It was just very different from Bryce’s usual extravagant
taste.

I waited for
him to dismount and remove his helmet before I headed to the front
door of the building.

“This way,
Hunny. I have my own private entrance,” he said casually as he took
hold of my hand and led me toward the alleyway next to the
restaurant. There was something in the way he had said it, or the
strikingly handsome smirk on his face, that triggered a sense of
déja vu.

I giggled as
he pulled me along. “Do you know the owner?”

He smiled at
me. “Yeah, I just bought the place.”

“What? Why on
earth would you buy—”As we rounded the corner, the sounds of “Bella
Notte” filtered into my ears, once again triggering my sense of
déja vu. The music, I soon discovered, was being played by a duet
who were seated off to the side of a lone round table, topped with
a red and white tablecloth, a candle and a single red rose.

Surrounding
the table were several potted plants, shielding not only the
musical duet, but also the rest of the area behind the restaurant
and creating a back drop to what I assumed was our dining spot.
Many candles in jars were lit and placed along the ground,
romantically paving a walkway to our seats. It was in the moment
that I realised my déja vu was because I was standing in the middle
of a scene from
Lady
& the Tramp
.

“Oh! My!
God!”

CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE

“Bryce! Oh my
God, when did you—”

“Never mind
about the when, Hunny, come and take a seat.” He placed his hand at
the small of my back and ushered me toward the table.

I couldn’t
help but let out a surprised laugh. “You are amazing. This is
amazing.”

“It’s what I
do, Ms. Summers,” he said with a smirk, while pulling out my chair
for me to sit in.

As he sat down
opposite me, I was struck by just how handsome he looked in the
candlelight. His dirty blonde hair was styled back and away from
his face, as if he had just run his hands through it and it had
obeyed. He was wearing a charcoal coloured shirt with the top two
buttons open, a black suit jacket and his sexy light-wash
jeans.

“Does your
mind ever take a break?” I asked, as he wiped his palms on his
pants while he settled into his seat.

“No. A mind
functions simply by functioning. If it takes a break, it ceases to
exist.”

“Have I ever
told you that I find your intelligence a major turn on?”

“No. I thought
you wanted me for my body.”

“Well, yeah,
that and your cooking.”

A waiter
stepped out from behind the screened potted plants. “Buona sera,
Signor Clark e la Signora Summers.”

“Buona sera.”
Bryce replied, his accent rolling off his tongue like liquid
sex.

Not being able
to speak Italian, I just nodded and smiled in response.

“Can I get you
both a drink?” he asked, switching to English but with a heavy
accent that was adorable.

Bryce raised
his eyebrows at me in question.

Feeling a
little daring, I thought I’d try my luck and ask for something a
little unorthodox. “I don’t suppose they serve a Cock ‘n Balls do
they?”

Closing his
eyes slowly, Bryce twitched his head ever so slightly, clearly
fighting a battle not to laugh. He opened them again and looked our
waiter dead in the eyes. “Is it possible to get my girlfriend a
Cock ‘n Balls?”

The waiter
flushed bright red. “I’m so sorry, Signor, we do not serve such a
drink.”

“Never mind,”
I said sweetly “How about Salty Balls or Big Balls?”

The table
started shaking, and I soon realised it was from Bryce chuckling.
“Hunny, I don’t think they serve any form of balls here.”

“Ha, I bet
they serve meat-balls.”

“Yes, Signora,
we serve meatballs,” he replied happily, being able to serve me
some form of balls.

I started
laughing and touched the waiter apologetically on the arm. “Thank
you, but I’ll have a glass of Chianti Classico, please. And, Signor
Clark will have a Scotch on the rocks.”

He nodded
sheepishly and made his way into the restaurant.

“They serve
meatballs, Mr. Clark. Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” he
answered, still chuckling. “I did.”

I shuffled in
my seat and grabbed my napkin, laying it over my lap. “So, you said
on our way in that you bought this restaurant. Why? It doesn’t fit
your normal real estate acquisition criteria.”

“I like it.
The place has character.”

“You’re such a
romantic.”

“Hunny, you
have no idea.”

“I think I’m
starting to. You blow me away.”

“No, Alexis,
you blow me away.”

“No. I just
blow you,” I said with certainty while eye-fucking him.

One of the
members of the duet missed a note, clearly mucking up the tune.

I bit my lip
and sunk down a little in my seat, whispering, “I think they speak
English.”

Bryce leaned
forward and took hold of my hands. “They do,” he said with
amusement.

Just as
butterflies started to flutter in my stomach at the look of love in
his eyes, our waiter appeared with our drinks and, behind him,
another waiter with a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

We both sat
back as they placed the large dish and drinks on the table. “Buon
apettito.”

“Grazie,”
Bryce and I replied simultaneously, my accent nowhere near as sexy
as his.