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Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

Titel: Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse
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    Nicoletta cried out, throwing her head back, her hips bucking out of control, so ready for him she was nearly in tears. Her fingers clutched his hair, holding him to her even as the intensity mounted to heights she wasn't certain she would survive. She had been afraid she would never be able to bed Giovanni again without the distaste of Vincente's perversions in her mind, but she should have trusted her husband more.
    He made certain he drove out every demon, every fear, until only he remained, his hands and his mouth and his soft, whispered endearments.
    " Ti amo," she said softly, meaning it. The words were embedded in her soul for all time.
    He sank beneath the warm waters, then resurfaced, droplets pouring off him, his black hair streaming, the water running from his skin as he levered himself easily from the pool. His eyes were fiercely possessive, hot with desire. He caught her up in his arms and carried her straight to their enormous bed.
    "We are very wet," she reminded him, laughing softly at his newly impulsive, playful ways. "We will soak the coverlets."
    Giovanni followed her right down to those coverlets. "We have many beds and many coverlets in the palazzo," he reminded her, pressing against her aggressively. "In any case, it will not matter. We will need no blankets, as I intend to keep you busy—perhaps making a bambino —all night." He thrust into her, watching her as he welded them together. "Quando sei bella. Ti amo."
    He breathed the words— How beautiful you are. I love you. —and he meant them. He loved her with

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    every breath in his body, with his entire heart and soul. She knew the way to break the curse, and he was man enough and loved her enough that he would follow her advice and trust it would be so. He wanted her soul soaring with his, and he wanted to feel her belly swollen with his child. A child who would know love and laughter, not endless losses, wonderment, not evil whispers. The Scarletti curse, he vowed, would live no more.
    Nicoletta watched her husband's face, watched the shadows disappear, watched joy replace fatigue.
    She moved with him, arching into him, so they came together in fiery friction, so that she could feel him thicken even more deeply within her. She could hear his breath come in gasps before he spilled his seed within her. She loved the way he loved her.
    And he was right: She never noticed the water soaking the coverlet, and the don and his bride did, that night, make their first happy, healthy bambino.
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