Awaken to Pleasure (16 page)

Joy shot through every vein in his body, hot and potent and blinding. Rising to his feet, he hauled her up and crushed her to him. “I believe you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want a grumpy husband with doubts about why I’m his wife.”

He let the conviction in her wash over him, her sharp words a dare to disbelieve. “I know you’re not a woman to say those words lightly. I know you.” Lifting her up, he kissed her full on the lips, finding her more than ready, more than willing. When they finally parted, he slid her softly down his body.

Blue, blue eyes met his as she raised her head. “Sometimes, I look at you and my heart feels like it’ll explode with the intensity of what you do to me.” Her voice shook. “Loving you should terrify me but you know what?”

Touched by her utter honesty and raw from the emotions rioting through him, he could barely speak. “Tell me.”

“All I feel is this overwhelming sense of rightness.” Her heart was in her eyes. “You were meant to be mine.”

A lifetime of loneliness disappeared in the brilliant truth of her claiming. “And you, mine. I will never let you go,
mia moglie e bellissima.”
His beautiful wife.
His.

“Thank God.” Then scowling, she muttered, “Not that you’d get very far if you tried to walk away, Jackson Santorini. I keep what’s mine.”

Her tart tone made him grin.
“Ti voglio bene.”

“You can’t fool me—I know that one.” Her kiss was a mix of fire and sweet tenderness. “And, I love you, too.”

J
ackson hadn’t thought that life could get any better but to his delight, it did. Not only was sweet, sexy Taylor his wife, she was now his lover in the most complete sense of the word. He didn’t have a single doubt about her feelings—after all, his wife didn’t tell lies. And that wife said she loved him so regularly that the Italian in him was coming to expect her adoration as his due.

One night, as she was straddling his back, torturing him with her hands and mouth, as she did on a regular basis, she said,
“Honey,
Nick kind of wants a niece or nephew soon.”

He frowned. “I told you, we’re waiting until you’re perfectly recovered.”

“It’s been ten months.” He could tell she was pouting. She kissed his shoulder. “Please, darling.”

“Three more months.” He reached back and stroked her calf. She bit him on his bicep. “Bad-tempered little witch.”

“One month.” She was pressing her naked body along the length of his, knowing full well it drove him crazy. It was only fair, given that his body turned her mindless with lust. He smirked against the pillow.

“Two.”

“One and a half.” She was stroking his flanks now. “Please. Please, please, please!”

He laughed at her begging because they both knew that she’d get her own way. Turning, he flipped her under him. “One and a half but…” he scowled at her, “only if the doctor gives his okay.”

She made a face. “Fine. How many children did you want again? One?” Her gentle laughter at his expense had only become worse after she’d declared her love.

His delight in her grew with every moment. “I always thought five children was a good number.” He pressed his arousal into the pool of heat between her legs.

“Five babies? You expect me to give birth five times?” She didn’t look too impressed.

“No. Only four. I already have a son.”

If Taylor hadn’t loved him rather madly by then, that casual acceptance of Nick as his son would have done it. “Let me up, I haven’t finished touching your back.”

He ground his erection against her body. “Later. I want to take you now.”

“You can’t just take over. It was my turn!” she protested. He had a tendency to become incredibly dominating if she didn’t keep her eye on him.

He started to slide in with an expression of almost painful pleasure. “Are you going to make me leave?”

“Later.” There was something to be said for a dominant Italian husband in bed. “Did you get bigger?”

“No. You got tighter,
piccola.
Probably because you exercise those muscles all the time.” He was chuckling.

She wrapped her arms and legs firmly around him and squeezed those internal muscles in retaliation. “Like I do it on my own, Mr. Three Times a Day.”

“I’ll get slower as I get older.” He groaned.

“It seems like you’re only getting more demanding.” She arched up. “Ooooh. Deeper. Deeper!”

Rain splattered against the skylight as Jackson’s body started driving into hers. Taylor smiled and thanked the heavens for rainy nights, before her husband demanded her complete attention.

Eleven months later, Nick got his wish. Josef Reid Santorini was a little small to play soccer, but Jackson assured the older boy that that would change. When Nick was scared to hold Josef, it was Jackson who gave him courage, standing by his side. His love for both his boys was apparent in the shining light in his dark eyes.

“I kinda get why Taylor’s so protective of me. Do you think I used to be so little?” Nick smiled down at the baby, already showing the same protective tendencies in his careful grasp.

Jackson chuckled. “We’ll have to ask her. Don’t worry, he’s a Santorini like you and we’re indestructible.”

From the nursery doorway, Taylor watched her men laugh and felt blessed. When Jackson turned to her and said,
“Cara,”
she walked over. “You’re heavily outnumbered now,” he whispered to her, while Nick was occupied with Josef.

She smiled against his chest. “Ha! I’m more than the lot of you can handle. And the other three will be girls.”

“Other three?”

“You always wanted five.”

Jackson’s chuckle was full of surprise, joy and just a touch of smug male approval. But, most of all, it was full of love.
Smiling, Taylor sighed and gave into an embrace she knew would never break and never hurt. Big, bad Jackson Santorini knew how to cherish his family.