Living in this life, you've never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you're dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life o...
Arranged Series Add-On : The First Kiss (Chris POV)
Pairing: Mafia!chris evans x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ please.
W/C: 532
This is a work of fiction. (POV is a cross between 2nd and 3rd person)
Italian and Italian translation in italics. (The translations were run by someone who fluently speaks Italian, if there are any corrections to be made, please let me know!)
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"Posso baciarti?" (can I kiss you?) you whispered, Chris's mouth parting slightly in surprise. You learned that... for him.
And when you cupped his cheek, for the first time in his life, Chris's ice-cold heart skipped a beat. His heart pounded harder in his chest when your thumb stroked softly against his cheekbone, a small smile spreading on your lips.
He figured you could feel the effect you had on him and he didn't care.
That minor thought took him by surprise, vulnerability wasn't something he was accustomed to but for you, he knew he would bare it all.
"You never have to ask, cara. I've been ready to kiss you since I saw you walking down that aisle," he admitted, swallowing the knot forming in his throat.
Chris always thought that he'd be the first person to make a move, but when you leaned in closer, he wouldn't have it any other way. When your lips finally pressed against his, Chris melted. The way your soft lips fit perfectly on his, your mango shampoo flooding his senses, he was lost in you. And he wanted more.
He moved his lips against yours, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Your hand slid up and small shiver jolted down Chris's spine as your fingertips scraped against his scalp, gripping his hair gently. He moaned softly, gripping your hips tighter as if you could get any closer in this tiny Ferris wheel cabin.
His tongue swept across your bottom lip, your mouth parting slightly and meeting him in the middle. He stifled another moan as cotton candy exploded against his tastebuds, your tongues swiping together. Of course you taste sweet.
Chris's chest tightened, as did his grip on your hip when a soft whimper built in your throat. The brief thought of what else he could do to get you to make those noises, flashed through his mind. Thinking about the feeling of his hands against your bare skin, kissing your neck while your fingernails drug down his back, almost made him moan again.
Suddenly, it wasn't the sexual things he was looking forward to. All in this 30 second kiss, he imagined waking up to you by his side and your eyelashes sweeping against your cheeks as your eyes fluttered shut at night. He could see you perched up on the countertop in the kitchen, his hands resting on your hips as he settled between your thighs or your head resting on his lap while you finished yet another book from his library.
The jolt of the Ferris wheel coming to life hit him almost as hard as the realization that he was falling in love with you.
He reached up, cupping your chin and running his thumb along your bottom lip, "Da questo bacio in poi, fino al mio ultimo respiro, sarò tuo." (From this kiss on, until my last breath, I will be yours)
Chris knew that you couldn't translate what he said, but he meant every word of it. From right here, staring into your eyes with the Boston horizon painted a color of blues and purples and oranges, his heart was yours. Always and forever.
