𝘐𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵

𝘍𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺-𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦.

𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰'𝘴 𝘗.𝘖.𝘝.

I exhaled heavily, putting the 90 kilograms dumbbells down after doing 3 circuits of the overhead press, one more repeat to go.

"Hi, my love."- said Celest softly while wrapping her tiny, trim arms around my neck from behind and leaning down to kiss my cheek. 

"Good morning, mia piccola cara."- I replied raspingly, claiming her plump, juicy lips in a passionate kiss. 

"Mhm, it is so early. Why are you already up, mio paradiso?"- spoke my wife, tenderly moving her petite hands up and down my shirtless torso, still hugging me and kissing my cheek. 

"I had to answer a call regarding a few things in the warehouse and then decided to get a workout in to relax."- I responded, sighing as she kissed my neck, her little hands like feathers against my body.

"Pressing 90 kilograms is relaxing?"- asked my love and I chuckled darkly, taking her small hand in mine to guide her onto my lap. 

"Sì, gattina."- I confirmed, really relaxing in today's workout since I am working with weights that I am used to, and she kissed my neck again, straddling me innocently. 

"You have a very wrong idea of relaxing."- murmured my wife as I hummed, sliding my hands to her toned, big, scrumptious ass, fucking loving that handful feeling. 

"Come on, my love."- said my sweetie, pecking my forehead, and got off my lap before taking my hands in her tiny ones. 

My beloved lead me to the kitchen and peered in the fridge, getting something out of it. 

"This is the first time I have ever made it, but I really tried."- said Celest preciously, always so careful about Italian cuisine, afraid to disappoint me. 

She thinks that she cannot cook it better than a native Italian, she is constantly so cautious about trying to make anything Italian: she will read a billion recipes, analyse each of them, and ask me about the smallest things out of worry and desire to make it good and right.

Celest really cooks way better than anyone I know, even better than my mum used to. I have never been a foodie, I had no particular attitude toward food, but because of her, I cannot go even 1 day without any desserts made by her only and I do not want to miss even 1 meal made by her. Cazzo, even tea and coffee taste better when she makes them.

"It looks incredible, mia dolce cara. I am sure it tastes just as good, if not better."- I assured her genuinely, already in awe of how fucking delicious that Tiramisu looks. 

"I will get a knife and plates, take a seat, my life."- said my love, her cute cheeks the brightest shade of pink, and I kissed her forehead before complying. 

Celest carefully placed 2 slices on the plates and as usually, watched me with an adorable, worried look in her heavenly, rich green eyes, waiting for me to try it. 

𝘊𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘗.𝘖.𝘝.

I bit my bottom lip, patiently waiting for my husband to try Tiramisu, hoping and praying that it is okay.

"I am amazed."- said Sandro genuinely with the cutest smile, taking another spoonful, and I smiled, giggling at how eagerly he ate the Italian dessert. 

"I love it when you eat what you want."- I spoke with a dreamy look on my face, unable to have enough of this side of him.

Guiltfree, carefree, cheerful, adorable, cuddly and so, so, so precious. 

He used to eat so clean and still does, but now he eats what makes him happy: if he wants chocolate waffles at 10 PM, he will eat chocolate waffles at 10 PM; if he wants to eat something sugary, he will do it and best of all - he loves it when I bake things for him and evens asks for some things whenever he feels like having those.