Belongs To Him

8 | His wife

Alina Windsor

We just sat here in silence for a moment after his words. I was left confused by what he meant. But if I asked I didn't want to offend him. I couldn't quite read him at the moment.

"It's me?" I finally ask after a few moments.

"It's hard to explain but it's just you" His fingers ran through my hair and soon he pulled me onto his lap. Dinner as a whole was ignored and the server never came back out to take our order.

Instead I just drank the champagne and nuzzled into him. It was peaceful staring out into Rome in this man's arms. He smelt of cinnamon and scotch, it was comforting. I felt safe with him, a random man from Italy who I almost plowed down in the road.

His lips pressed on my forehead sending my stomach into some type of frenzy. He was gentle and tentative just enjoying my presence. As I moved my eyes to face him I couldn't draw away from his lips there was an unsaid feeling between us.

One that prompted him to press them against mine, saving me for a moment. From all the worries in the world, from the pain that followed back home and from the feeling of surviving rather than just living.

His hands caress my thighs and we break a part for a second as a smile is shared between us and then he pulls me back in. As if I were the oxygen and as I tug on his collar it sinks him deeper into my lips.

I hated French kissing, despised it even. But with him, I don't, instead I crave it more. His lips were so soft and his touch was gentle. It was almost as if I were delicate but not enough to make me feel like glass, but enough to make me feel important and cared for.

He moves his head so his lips brush against my ear as goosebumps trail up my skin.

"Your lips just taste so perfect against mine" He mumbles into my neck and then places chaste kisses against it slowly making his way back to my lips, "you're so precious, my Alina." His lips tickle against the nape of my neck causing me to squirm slightly but hold tighter onto him.

"Most people fear me here, but yet you don't?" His first real question to me, after I've been served them all night.

"Because I know you, well I've known your character. You seem tough and rigid, you're meant to be scary. But secretly you aren't, you wouldn't hurt me... maybe someone who looked at me wrong. But you care even if you don't want to" I knew I'd dived deeper than expected but he made me feel comfortable, safe.

"Someone who can finally read me" A kiss is placed on my jawline as he fiddles with my ring finger and traces a rim around it.

"You just can't judge a book by its cover Kingston... something I've learned over time" I viewed ahead of us, the story of Rome and the history enriched and lit up before us in the nights skyline.

"What's your work like Alina" As I stared at our hand intertwined I moved his hand to lay flat onto mine as I traced the lines on his palm. A little tattoo was placed on the lower end of his thumb of a butterfly and bee.

"I'm an Architect in Soho, New York. I am an urban and interior designer. But interior is more so my side thing for fun while urban design is what I thrive in. As a kid buildings always fascinated me and I wanted to know how there were made," An impressed look could be shown on his face. Out of all the things I bet he never expected that.