Page 121 of Vows of Blood

"We're in a private villa." I argue, lowering my mouth to her neck, tasting salt and sunscreen. "There's nobody here but us."

Her protest dissolves into a soft sound as I trace my tongue along her collarbone and take her nipple into my mouth, still cool from the pool. Her back arches, her fingers sliding into my hair as my thumb pushes her bottoms aside and swipes across her entrance.

“You really are a bad man,” she whispers, giving my bottom lip a gentle nip as I press a finger inside her.

She melts into the beach chair with a loud moan, surrendering.

I take my time with her. Out here, while the ocean crashes against the rocks below and with the sun warm on my back, there's no urgency. I worship every inch of her because I can, and because she's mine and nobody is ever going to take her from me again.

When she comes apart beneath me, gasping my name against the bright blue sky, I hold her through it, stroking her hair back from her flushed face.

"Inside," she whispers, pulling me closer, wrapping her legs around my waist. "Take me inside."

Not having to tell me twice, I carry her through the open doors and into the cool shade of the bedroom. Laying her down on the crisp, white sheets, still damp from the pool, her skin leaves wet impressions on the cotton. I follow her down, kissing her deeply, slowly.

She sighs against my mouth, content and unhurried, as I climb over her, thrusting deep in one firm stroke, taking my time, bringing us both to the edge with slow, steady rolls of my hips, ignoring her impatient pleas for me to go faster and harder.

Afterward, she relaxes while I go to the bathroom, soaking a cloth under warm water. Her toiletries are lined up along the vanity in neat rows, a contrast to the chaos she leaves everywhere else.

The foil package is sitting beside her toothbrush. I pick it up without thinking, turning it over in my hand, irrationally disappointed by its presence in our suite. Small pink pills in a blister pack, half the days already popped from the strip.

I stand there for a long moment, staring at it, the bathroom tiles cool under my bare feet, and I know exactly what I want for us next.

The sonogram is in my wallet. I've carried it every day since the wedding, folded carefully into a square, tucked behind my driver’s license. I don't need to look at it to see the tiny form that was supposed to be ours.

Gripping the edge of the sink, I think about what my father took from us. Not just the pregnancy, but the years after. The years Sienna spent alone, grieving the trauma she couldn't tell anyone about, while I fought with my own wounds.

We could have had a child by now. A nine-year-old who would have Sienna's dark hair and fierce spirit, and who would have grown up knowing they were loved unconditionally.

I take the packet and the warm cloth and go back to the bedroom.

Sienna stirs as I sit on the edge of the bed, opening her eyes to find me cleaning her gently, carefully, the way I always do. She watches me with an adoration that still catches me off guard, like she can tell exactly what’s going on inside my head.

"What's that?" She points to the packet in my other hand.

"I want a baby." The words come out quieter than I intend. Direct, and with no preamble, because I've never been good at easing into things, and she knows that about me by now. “Someday. It doesn’t have to be now…”

Sienna goes very still, her lips parting, but she looks pleased rather than terrified. "Luca..."

Warming to the theme, I run my hand up her thigh.

"I want to see you pregnant, walking around our home with my child growing inside you." I turn the packet over in my fingers, staring down at the little pink pills behind their foil, my other hand resting against her flat belly. "I want kids running through the house, making a mess, driving Carmella insane, and terrorizing your cat." I look up at her. "I want what he stole from us."

She pushes herself upright, tucking her legs beneath her, the sheet falling around her waist.

"I want that too," she says softly, then cheeks pink, adds, “whenever you’re ready.”

I hold up the packet so she can see it, then press my thumb against the first pill, popping it through the foil. It drops onto the sheets between us, then the next one, and the next, one by one, until they're all scattered across the white cotton like confetti.

"There's no time like the present." I gather the pills together in my palm and toss them into the trash can beside the bed. I take her face in my hands and kiss her. "You're going to be an incredible mother, Sienna. And I'll try very hard not to be the fuck-up my father was."

A fierce look crosses her face, and she pushes my hands away, only to take them in hers and press me back against the pillows. I let her, curious, as she straddles my lap and leans over me, forcing me to look up at her.

"You are nothing like your father." She says, absolutely certain, leaving no room for argument. "Nothing. Do you hear me?"

She kisses me before I can respond, pouring everything she has into it. Then she pulls back and starts kissing down my pecs, her lips tracing a path along my sternum and across the ridges of my stomach, then lower.

When her mouth closes around me, her tongue swirling around the tip of my cock, my head falls back against the pillow, and I groan, my hand finding the back of her head while I fight the urge to raise my hips and drive into her mouth.