The Thistles of Rose

18 • Happier

♕ Rose ♕

The morning sun pours into the bedroom like a spotlight. The metal headboard thrashes into the wall under my quavering, firm grip. He pounds into me from behind with a passion so deep it sends my eyes rolling in ecstasy. My ruptured moans and his rickety groans rattle the doors of the other's climax.

His fingers cradle my hips and he holds my body firm against his, sliding into it with ease. It's direly exquisite.

And I know that's the case for him too because he grunts, reaching his climax. From behind, Luca hugs my body to his, pressing breathless kisses around my shoulder as he continues to thrust in me until I too finish.

My head falls to the pillow. I whimper, catching up on all my breaths stolen in love. He tugs my night dress over my ass because he knows how unexpectedly cold I get without his presence there.

He lies next to me, staring at me with adoration written in his eyes.

I don't know what part of me is attractive right now. I've just woken up and I've just had a phenomenal orgasm.

After these vital moments of silence, which we both needed, he declares, "I love making love to you but I don't like taking you from behind."

I turn my head to him, furrowing my eyebrows. My words still seem as if they haven't returned yet.

"I wanna see these pretty eyes as you give in to me," he hovers over me, running his finger under them and whispers, "I like seeing you cum."

They flutter closed from the comforting sparks he transfers to me. And it takes my hazy brain longer than usual to process what he said.

"You're such a flirt," I giggle, relaxing into his hand.

His grey eyes gleam as if he's embedding this memory into his head. Luca trails his hand to my cheek and dips his head to kiss me. He has this ridiculous smile on his lips as I kiss him and I feel as if I've achieved the impossible.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. I've got a meeting soon," he pulls away.

I would join him but I'm too rooted in my bliss to move.

I nod, rolling my lips in my mouth. Luca kisses my cheek before he gets up and wanders into the shower room.

I've been craving a minute alone ever since he opened up to me last night. An aching sob crawls up my throat and I choke it down. Though the shower is running and he won't be able to hear, he'll know that I was crying.

It was nauseating hearing his memories from when he was locked in that cell. It was chilling hearing how his mother's murder kept replaying in his head. It was disheartening hearing the pain I've caused him by losing our child.

Now, he seems more unburdened in a way that's relieving. I'm ecstatic he's like this but, is he always going to suppress his emotions for so long?

"Those nine years of pain are so worth an eternity with you."

I wipe my silent tears, and fiddle with my bracelet, calming my anxiety.

After all the misery, trauma and hardship he's gone through these past nine years, it's baffling how much serene solace he sees in me.

It's never-ending for us, is it? We've dealt with our youth traumas and now our adult ones.

My phone rings from the nightstand I jump as it blares through my brain. Quickly, I compose myself, evening out my erratic breathing and making sure I don't sound like I've been crying.

Reaching over, I check my reflection on the phone and only then do I answer the Facetime call.

Marco immediately chirps, "hello, my beautiful Rosalie."