Journal Entry

Somebody gag and tie me up, please.

Because I'm clearly not myself around my own husband.

I CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT we ate.

Or talked about.

I do have some vague memories of giggling a little too much, but I'm hoping I'm wrong about that.

And I think I drank a lot of water.

Because right now I feel like I'm about to pee a barrel.

Or maybe that's just my nerves making me feel antsy since the torture dinner is finally over, and my husband has taken my hand as he gently pulls me to my feet.

Hooded green eyes stare down at me, but instead of frightening me off, everything has changed.

The longer I lose myself in his gaze, the more I want to throw myself into his arms.

I no longer want to run away.

But instead, I want to run towards him and stay where he is.

Because my husband is my home.

And when he finally speaks—-

"I need to make a call."

I just feel like dying because I never imagined such thoughtfulness from the Beast of New York. It just goes to show how rumors are never to be trusted, but more importantly than that—-

"I didn't expect you to be this sweet," I confess. "I thought you'd be the type to simply tell me to get ready and wait for you in bed. But instead, you're making up excuses just to give me time to compose myself."

Lorenzo looks at me as if he wants to say something, badly, and my heart goes out to him because I totally get it. He's obviously not used to receiving compliments, and while I hate how cruel the world has been to him, that's all in the past now.

He doesn't just have me on his side now.

The moment he married me, my famiglia has also become his famiglia, and my God, his God.

He just doesn't know it yet.

Courage I didn't even know I possessed has me stepping forward and slowly raising my hands to cup my husband's beautiful face.

"I know you're thinking about what you read in Sarica's texts," I whisper. "And in a way, it is true that I'm just a bit worried. Everything about you is a first for me. But what nobody doesn't know is how my fear is nothing compared to my trust in you. The world may think of you as the Beast of New York, but to me, you're my beast in Westmancott, and I trust you with my life. Always. I'd choose you over all the world's armies combined, and I'd—-"

There's no chance for me to say anything else, with Lorenzo suddenly covering my hands and lowering them down.

And then it's his turn to cup my face.

Oh, my heart, I know it's impossible for you to be still, but at least try!

My lips part under his, and my husband's tongue slips inside my mouth.

It's my first kiss, and it's beyond my wildest imagination.

His hand curls around my nape as he deepens the kiss, and I find myself clutching his shirt.

His tongue thrusts in and out of my mouth, and my heart goes wild. I know it's a dance as old as time, but when Lorenzo starts sucking my tongue, the fire inside of me explodes into a conflagration of sensations.

I can't think.

I can't breathe.

All I can do is want.

Oh, how I want him!

Lorenzo suddenly wrenches his mouth off mine, and all I can do is stare up at him in a daze.

Every part of me is aching.

Why, oh why did he have to stop kissing me?

"Last chance," he rasps out.

What is he talking about?

"If you're in my room when I come up, there will be no turning back."

He sounds so, so serious.

And for some reason, that makes me feel the opposite.

I'm giddy, light-headed, and just suddenly so, so crazy over my husband that I find myself actually playing the coquette for the first time, ever.

"Does that mean you only want me when I'm lying back and thinking of England?"

He stares at me in shock, and honestly?

I'm just as stunned as he is.

Whoever knew I could be such a tease, and to the Beast of New York no less?

"Ten minutes," Lorenzo grates out under his breath. "You have ten minutes to do whatever you need to do—-"

His green eyes glitter, and oh, the things that his feral gaze promises!

"—-then it's my turn to do whatever I want to do."

My knees go weak, and I'd have crumpled at his feet if not for my husband catching hold of me.

I look up, and it's my first time to see Lorenzo smirking.

And I love it.

"Ten minutes, Gazelle."

He doesn't have to say it again.

The moment his hold loosens, I'm already running away and up the stairs, my heart beating so, so loud and hard that it's all I hear again.

Ten minutes , I remind myself in a panic as I undress. I know I've just taken a shower an hour ago, but this is our wedding night, and I want to smell as good as the roses he's given me.

I shampoo my hair in a hurry, but even though I'm doing everything as fast as I can, I'm still under the shower when my ten minutes are up, and all I can do is whimper when my husband joins me.

And he's entirely naked.

You've hit the jackpot, self!

The words come out of nowhere, and I only realize I've also said them out loud when my husband's eyes widen.

Aaaaaaaah!

I don't even have time to pray for the earth to swallow me up.

The last thing I see is a smirk once again unfolding on my husband's beautiful lips.

And then he's hauling me close, and I cease to think once again as his kiss makes my soul fly.

My, oh my.

I've definitely hit the jackpot, I can't help but think as I dimly feel my husband sweep me up in his arms without breaking the kiss.

Because my beast is beautiful inside and out, and I just know.

Oh, how I'm sure of this.

He truly is the man for me.

And it's not just because of the way he makes my body come alive with a single gaze.

A single kiss.

A single touch.

All of those are just the tip of the iceberg.

Because as much as the passion burning between us has me panting and writhing as my husband lays me down on his massive bed—-

The reason why I know I can't be wrong about him is how his heart speaks to mine.

Because when I look up at him now—-

Everything truly has changed.

All I see is my hope and future in his gaze.

And it's so, so beautiful it makes my eyes sting.

Thank You, thank You, thank You.

Thank You for giving me Lorenzo.

Thank You.

Fire consumes me from within, and the need to belong to my husband sweeps all other thoughts away.

I need to be his.

I need it so, so bad.

And the need just gets worse and worse as he slowly kisses his way down my body. A part of me had expected him to be, well, beastly. But instead he's impossibly tender and agonizingly reverent with the way he claims every part of me. Tortuously methodical even, with how he waits for me to whimper before giving me what I want—-

And that's for him to brand me as he sucks on the side of my neck—-

Knead and squeeze my flesh when I start to ache—-

And oh, when he finally parts my legs and his powerfully muscular body settles between them—-

I can't help but cry at the way he stares down at me.

Oh, how he stares at me.

I've never felt so precious and cherished.

Never felt so wanted and needed.

And what makes it all the sweeter is how I feel exactly the same.

Because I want and need him like I've never needed someone before.

Because he's my precious husband, and though the world sees him as a beast, all I see is someone I want to protect just as much.

My lips slowly part.

I want, need to say the truth.

But before the words can slip out, it's my husband who moves first, his length entering me in one forceful motion, and it's his name that I whisper instead.

" Renzo ..."

The pain is nothing, just nothing at all compared to the exquisite reality of finally belonging to him.

This is what my body was designed for.

This is what I was born to feel.

This right here is the essence of what we'll be for the rest of our lives, and I can only sob as I place my hand against his chest, and I feel his heart hammering as hard as mine.

" Oh, Renzo ."

His big, hard body shudders over me. I don't know why I ended up shortening his name. It just felt so right to do it, just like this, too, felt right.

Yes, oh, yes.

How wonderfully right it feels, to have my husband slowly thrusting in and out of me, our bodies moving in rhythm as our breathless pants fill the air.

My hands curve over his shoulders as his thrusts pick up in pace. His every possession sweeps me up higher and higher, and every pounding beat of my heart echoes his.

I can't remember feeling this close to any human being, and I see my every thought mirrored in his beautiful green eyes. It's getting harder and harder for me to breathe, and so I know, of course I know.

We're both getting closer and closer to the end, with our bodies tightening and tightening until finally, oh, finally...

Aaaaaaaah!!!

My mind knows this is inevitable, but the way pleasure explodes inside of me is still a massive shock.

Renzo. Renzo. Renzo.

I cry his name out over and over as my body shudders under my husband's muscular frame, and when I fill him shudder, too, as his own pleasure takes over—-

Aaaaaaaah .

Everything starts all over again, and it leaves me terrified and intoxicated at how our pleasure seems to show no signs of ending.

Oh, my love.

It takes a while before our breathing gradually eases up and for our heartbeat to slow down. It takes a while before I even have the energy to lift my dazed eyes to his.

And I see right away that he already knows.

Oh, he definitely knows I'm his .

But it's just as clear that he doesn't believe my feelings are real.

No matter, though.

I prayed to God that my nonna would choose the same man He'd choose for me.

And she did.

Lorenzo is the man for me.

I know it.

I'm sure of it.

And even though I obviously have my work cut out for me in convincing Lorenzo of my feelings—-

No biggie.

It's not like my brothers were any better when they first met their wives.

I just have to do what the other girls did, easy.

It can be anything from making a bet that I'm guaranteed to lose (Cat), getting involved in a boyfriend-stealing scandal (Ysabel) to possibly accidentally killing a bad guy or two (Penelope).

Not a tall order, right?