He grabs my hand and his features suddenly turn grave. “But the other day you said your father called you names, like ‘useless.’” He lowers his voice and looks ashamed. “Just as I did. I am so sorry about that.”
“I know you didn’t mean it,” I reassure him. “And maybe my father never meant it either. He’s got a temper and he’s prone to saying the wrong things all the time, though God forbid you ever call him out on it. I think I just frustrate him that I’m not really shaping up to be anything great. Not like him. I’m just this useless, helpless, average little human being who will never live up to her potential.”
As I say the words, I feel bereft. Once again, real life is sneaking into the one I’ve escaped into, reminding me of what’s waiting for me at home and what I’d be leaving behind in Capri.
“Amber,” Derio says softly after a beat. “You are little only in height and nothing else. If your father could see you now, how happy you make me, how happy you make the twins, the way you run this household, helping them, helping all of us, he would take back every wrong thing he’s ever said about you.”
“I make you happy?” I ask as my heart dances hopefully in my chest.
“You make me more than happy,” he says, stopping to cup the back of my neck. He kisses me with a quiet hunger, with determination and promise, and pulls me into him. His tongue is hot and soft and it makes the heat around us intensify. The hardness of his cock digs into my hip and he smiles against my lips. “You make him more than happy, too.”
Tension builds throughout my body like a tightening thread, and the mere feel of him against me makes me wet and wanting. I clench my thighs together and kiss him deeper, harder, my hands digging into his back, feeling his muscles, his strength, his everything. This man, oh how I fucking want this man.
He’s breathing hard when he pulls away. He looks over my shoulder. “The church is right down there, through the trees.”
“I’m not having sex in a church,” I tell him, though considering I’m getting more turned on by the moment, that could soon become a possibility.
He grins, kissing me quickly. “Not in the church.” He takes my hand. “Come on.”
He takes me down the slope, past blooming orchids and green oak until we come across the tiny church of Santa Maria. It’s adorable, with its mission-style bell tower and rustic stone wall. To the other side is nothing but air—it sits on the edge of the cliff.
“Wow,” I say. “I would worship here every day.”
“And I will worship you beside it,” he says. “I think I know of a good place.” He looks around to see if anyone else is watching. I hear voices coming from the church courtyard but I can’t see the culprits. I follow him as we jog quietly through the golden knee-high grass toward the side of the church and sneak along the stone wall, which is high enough to hide both of us.
We round the corner and come to an area of dry, thick grass, shaded by an oak on one side and the wall on the other. At our feet, the rest of Capri and the sea spread before us like a banquet. Unless someone wants to peep over the wall or a paraglider flies past, no one will see us.
Derio pulls me down into the grass with him and I let out a few giggles as I fall. He presses his finger to my lips to silence me and I take his finger in my mouth instead, sucking on it. He closes his eyes, his mouth parting, and I can see the pink of his tongue, wet inside. He’s so beautiful, especially when he’s turned on. He’s just this bronzed, dark-eyed, Italian sex machine.
“We are outside the holy grounds,” he whispers when I remove my finger. His own are busy pulling my shirt over my head. “But I don’t think the priest or nuns will look too kindly if we are caught.”
“Would it cause a local scandal?” I whisper back.
“Knowing this town and its gossips,” he says in a warning tone, “yes.”
I briefly remember Lenora and the shit that she was spreading. “I’ll be quiet if you’ll be quick. Take off your pants.”
“Take off your pants,” he retorts and then leans over, unzipping my jeans and pulling them and my underwear down and over my sandals. He lies back on the grass and takes a firm hold of my hips and pulls me onto him so I’m straddling him.
“World’s most perfect view,” he says, his voice laced with lust, his gaze heavy as he watches me above him. “Better than the one out there.”
I reach down and bring his dick out of his pants, hot and thick in my hands, feeling a bit shy that I have to be totally naked while he gets to keep his clothes on. I mean, broad daylight isn’t exactly flattering, but from the hardness of his erection, I don’t think he’s too bothered by my flaws and pale skin. I have to remind myself that just moments ago he was telling me how perfect I was. I have to believe it if he believes it.
“At least take off your shirt,” I tell him, tugging up the hem of his shirt.
He smiles, conceding, and then pulls it off. I get up briefly and slide his pants and briefs down below his ass. I stroke his dick slowly, up and down. He bites his lip, watching me, his hands roaming up and down my thighs and waist, before he lowers his head back to the grass. I work him for a few minutes, feeling that sun on my back, the look of ecstasy on his face.
Finally he looks up, his eyes dizzy with lust, and says breathlessly, “Come over here.”
I raise my brow. Is he asking me to sit on his face? Because I’ll totally do that.