The silks slip through my fingers as I curl my legs around them, my lower back cradled, and I flip upside down. The hammock holds my weight so I’m hanging high enough off the ground that I can easily touch and flatten my palms against my mat but not so low my head is at risk of touching. While hanging, I count to thirty before widening my legs to balance my weight and lift forward with my arms, gripping the silks and easing back up.

“Yes!” I smile and twirl in the hammock.

Behind me, I hear the door lock. Nick just finished teaching the last class for Sunday night, the one he likes to do right before heading to his parents’ for dinner.

“Great job, Dove. Now stand up.”

I do as he instructs, thinking he’s going to lead me into practicing a different aerial yoga pose. The silks sway behind me.

“Remove your pants.”

His comment knocks me off guard. “Nick?” I turn my head to where he’s standing behind me. He places his hands on my waist; they are warm and comforting.

“You heard me, Dove. Remove your pants and underwear.”

The way he said it was not a request but an order. I glance over at the door and window; both are closed, the drapes hiding us from view.

“We’re the only ones here. You know I’m the last one at Lotus House. Now strip.” He clucks his tongue.

I swallow the lump of nerves and ignore my racing heart. Nick slips away from me as I push my pants and panties down and kick them away. He goes over to the stereo and chooses a song. Feeling brave, I lift my arms and tug my strappy sports bra over my head. When he turns around, I’m gloriously naked.

The piano notes of the song start, and I inhale long and slow. Hozier’s “Take Me to Church” blasts through the speaker, taking my fear and soul with it.

“Fuck! Amen.” He stands there on the raised stage looking like a golden god or a bull ready to charge. His upper body is bare, and his lower half is only covered by a pair of black linen pants that are tenting in the front quite magnificently.

My breath stutters as I raise my hands above my head and grab the silks so I don’t fall over at the raw masculinity in front of me. The music he’s chosen weaves through my subconscious, speaking of church and bedrooms and worship. And that’s exactly the way Nick looks at me. With a worshiping stare.

While the first chorus hits, I compare my Nick to the words the songwriter uses. Each one so fitting. With my focus only on him, I watch Nick curl his fingers into his waistband and push his pants down. His long, thick cock stands at attention, looking larger than normal. A spot at the top glistens under the track lighting above, and I want so badly to lick it off. My mouth waters at the sight of his essence coming to the surface. He’s so virile, sexually powerful, a god in the bedroom.

“You’ve got me hard and hungry.” He strokes his length from root to tip and back down, masturbating with little care to how much I want to do that for him. “Put the silks to your lower back and repeat your position.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The music’s getting louder, and the graphic visual the artist presents permeates my mind like a dirty karma sutra yoga scene.

“Now, Dove. Don’t make me wait, or I’ll deny you lashes later.”

A spike of frustration jabs my chest. The dirty dog would deny me if it meant he got to be the one to hold it over my head like a pleasure-stealing ninja.

He continues stroking his length with one hand and gestures in a circle with one finger at the hammock behind me.

Leaning back, I shimmy the gossamer, soft fabric into position. Once I’ve got it tucked to my lower back, I use my hands to grip the fabric. Then, I lift my legs, open them in a wide V in the air, and let my back and head fall toward the floor on one fluid movement.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Nick bursts into action, moving fast as I spin around. My sex is completely exposed, my legs out, the silks holding me open and in position. Nick stops behind me. Behind me, damn it! Where I can’t touch him. Both of his hands wrap around my ankles.

His length prods against my ass, and I mewl with need for him. Nick runs his fingers down my legs, and I can’t help but tremble. I shoot my arms out in front of me to hold the floor so I don’t lose my position or fall on my head.

“How long do you think you can hang like this?” he asks low, his voice uncontrolled and unlike anything I’ve ever heard from his lips before.

“Maybe two or three minutes before I get light-headed,” I reply as his fingers reach my center, smoothing through the wetness he finds. “Oh God,” I gasp, wanting to close my legs, but I can’t because if I do, I’ll fall on my face.

“Your body is a vision.” He runs his hands up and down my legs. “Smooth.” He kisses my ankle. “Toned.” A kiss to the inside of my knee. “Pale white.” Another kiss touches my inner thigh, so close to where I want him most. And yet, I’m also afraid to have him there for fear I’ll lose my mind.

Arousal roars through my system like a wild animal. I flex my toes and dig my fingers into the mat below.

“And all mine,” he whispers before I feel his mouth on my sex.

Wild, animalistic pleasure assaults me. I become dizzy, my hands pressing into the mat so I’m pushing up as he’s pushing down. His thumb twirls around my clit in devious circles, and I am humping his face and the air recklessly, lost in a tumble of sensation as he sinks his tongue deep inside me. I howl at the intrusion. He flutters and flicks the talented muscle, working me into complete and utter oblivion. And then he amps it up a notch when he pinches my clit…hard. I scream, my body jerking as though it has been electrocuted, but he doesn’t stop feasting. He moans loudly, smashing his face between my legs as if he wants to be smothered in me, in my taste. I lift one hand to his head and ride the remaining waves of my orgasm.

When I’m boneless, he pulls away, helps me up, and pushes the silk along my back and just under my bum so it cradles my body. Dreamily, I lie back, supported by the hammock, but Nick has other ideas.

“No rest for the wicked, baby.” He spreads my legs and adjusts the silks so I’m tilted and my pelvis is lifted up to his perfect height. As I lock my legs around his waist, he centers his weeping cock at my center and power drives in.

Full. I’m so full, I arch my upper body and grind my heels into his lower back.

“Fuck, yeah. Now hold on to the fabric, Dove, because I’m about to take you on one helluva ride.”

That is the only warning I get. A second later, he is gripping the silks and powering me on and off his cock in fast, spearing jabs. I can see a full few inches of his cock as he eases my body forward and back. Inside, I am a mass of contradiction. Full, empty, choking with his size, and bereft. Over and over he pounds into me, each thrust harder than the next, taking me to new sexual heights I’m not sure I’ll survive.

Nick shifts my legs from around him so my heels are wedged up against my sides and inside the silks. The new position is vulgar and filthy. He pulls away, his dick falling from me as he assesses his handiwork.

“Look at you, strung up and open for your man. Ready to take my cock, my fingers, or my mouth. This pretty, wet pussy, open all for me?”

Apparently, I’ve made the error of not answering fast enough, because before I can formulate an answer in my sex-induced haze, Nick has straightened his hand, fingers out flat, and he draws his arm back and spanks me right between the legs.

I whimper with the first lash.

“All.” He smacks me again, my clit turning fire hot with the second blow.

“For.” Nick doubles his force, and my body rocks with the rebound of his slap.

“Me!” He growls and smacks my sex three times in quick succession.

My body is unable to catch up with the overwhelming pain and pleasure that is shooting through my system. He doesn’t let up. Before I can take a breath and process the fiery spanking of my most private part, he lines himself up again and thrusts his cock deep. So deep I lose my ability to breathe.

“Jesus, fucking woman. I love you so damn much,” he thunders as he wraps his hands around my ass and forces me so deeply onto his cock, I could swear I feel him in my chest.

I explode around him, the pleasure so acute it splinters from where we are connected, through every limb, taking me away. Far, far away. My mind instantly shuts down.

My entire being and world shrink down to one solitary person. Nick.

Every touch.

His kiss.

Nick’s love.

He hammers into me, racing to find his own release, and through it, I again find mine.

And again.

And again.

I can’t stop coming. It’s like my entire body is an exposed nerve and Nick is pricking it repeatedly with a pointy needle. One wave of heaven rolls into another.

When Nick is done torturing me with orgasms, he wraps his arms around me, hugging me closely while still imbedded, his manhood a massive force between my thighs. I follow his lead by draping my legs and arms around him. Face-to-face, heart-to-heart, mouth-to-mouth, he gets up on his toes, his body arching sublimely, his cock a weapon of pleasure inside me. Every inch of his strong, muscled body convulses and quakes against mine, exposing his vulnerable, softer side. I hold him tighter, reveling in the feel of this man giving it all…to me.

“All for you,” he whispers, forehead to mine, the puff of his labored breaths coating my lips in warm air. “Everything I am, all that I will be, is all for you.”

---

Honor is a wreck of nerves as I lead her up the steps toward my family home. “Relax, Dove. They’re all going to love you. Gracie and Ma already do. The rest is a formality, just trust me.” I curve an arm around her waist so we’re walking together in matched stride.

She knots her fingers together and then presses a wild lock of loose hair behind her ear. “It’s not that I don’t think they’ll like me.”

I stop at the crest of the staircase and turn toward her. “Then what is it?”

She looks down at her sandals and plucks at her flowy dress. The fabric has bursts of brightly colored flowers in a variety of pale pinks, greens, and blues. Her skin positively glows against the backdrop. Two tiny strips tie at each shoulder, leaving her arms bare. Since her stint in the hospital, my girl hasn’t so much as scratched her skin, and though I liked the henna she used to decorate her arms with, her scars are out in the open and barely visible. I’ve taught her that it’s an opportunity to either open herself up to that person about her past choices and share who she was and how far she has come or to change the subject. The choice is always hers.

I run my fingers over her scarred arms like I have many times in the past weeks. I’ve done it so often, she doesn’t even blink at my touch, but for me, it’s a reminder that she’s alive, she’s here, and she’s mine to protect and keep safe.

The chain from my dog tags catches the light and sparkles against her skin. The beads of the necklace are visible, but the tags are properly hidden between her breasts. Every time I take a gander and see my tags nestled between her billowy goodness, a contented sigh comes out of me. I can’t help it. It’s the alpha dog in me howling with approval.

“I’m worried that they are going to think things are moving too fast, and in normal circumstances…”

I shake my head and place both hands on her shoulders, grounding her to this moment. “None of that. I’ve told you before. My mother and father had one date. A month later, they were married. Three months after that, they were pregnant with me. Babe, this family does fast. You know what they say…never let a day go by. Get it? Dago?”

She titters behind her hand. “Not nice. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

And there’s her sense of humor. Finally!

I hook my arm over her shoulder and keep her close to my side. “Dove, it’s going to be great. Don’ worry ah-bout it. Capisce?” I say while contorting my hand as if I’m pinching salt between my fingers.

She giggles, and I bring her to the door and open it for her.

“Ma, we’re here!”

“In the kitchen!” she hollers from the back of the house.

I know by all the cars in the driveway that everyone’s already here. I planned it that way to make it easy. The goal tonight is to get Honor to connect with my family and to let all of them know about our future plans.

Taking Honor’s hand, I lead her back to the kitchen. The volume of chatter ceases to a complete dead silence as we enter. So many gazes land on us, it feels like the Spanish Inquisition.

Ma comes over to Honor, wooden spatula in hand, apron on, and her arms open. “Honor, my sweet girl, come, come, give your mama a hug.”

Honor preens under the praise, and it makes my heart happy for her. The debacle with her parents yesterday proved that she won’t be having her family around anytime soon, if at all. Still, all is not lost. My family will pick up the slack and then some.

Gracie hugs Honor next and gushes about how pretty her dress is.

I whistle when the chatter picks back up in the kitchen, making it impossible to hear one another. It’s not a small kitchen by any means, but with this many bodies in it, with Italian boisterous voices, it can be damn near deafening.

“Hey, hey, everybody. I’ve got an announcement, and I don’t want to have to repeat myself ten times. So let’s all play nice and listen.”

“Get on with it, Nicky. We’re starvin’ here!” Lo, my sister’s husband, calls out.

I shoot him a dangerous glare. “Zip it. I want to start by introducing you to my girl, Honor Carmichael. Honor, over in the corner there is my sister Dawn and her husband, Lorenzo, but we all call him Lo. They are expecting their first baby, and we’re all fucking ecstatic!” I smile huge at my baby sis. She places both of her hands on her abdomen and grins. Lo covers her hands with his.

“Good to meet you,” Dawn says.

“Next in line, you’ve got Angela and her boyfriend, Javier, who has been draggin’ ass with making an honest woman out of my sister. He may need a talkin’ to,” I snarl at my sister’s man.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Back off, amigo. I’ve suggested marriage many times, and this one seems to want to wait for some magical time off in the future. I’m just biding my time.”

All eyes go to Angela. Her face flushes red. “I, uh… I’m young! Ma, I didn’t say not ever.”

Our ma is shaking her head and flinging her saucy spatula around her head like a crazy woman. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and God above, please knock some sense into my child, for she knows not what she does.”

“Sorry, man. Angela, you and me, talk. Later.”

She groans. “Fine.”

I shake my head of the craziness that is my family and move to the threesome sitting around the table where a blond-haired girl is coloring in a book. “Over there is my sister Cara and her live-in boyfriend, Scott, and his daughter, Kaylee.”

“What! You’re living in sin with my daughter!” Mama screeches, about to burst another vein. She lifts her hands to her heart in prayer. “Blessed Mother, protect and lead my daughter to making good choices and her boyfriend to putting a ring on her finger.” She makes the sign of the cross and leans against my father. He wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“It’s okay, tesora mia. We will have a talk with these ungrateful children and show them the way,” my father coos to my mother.

I cough into my hand because if I didn’t, I’d crack up. Everything is going exactly as planned. Nailing everyone to the wall before I get to my news so it won’t seem so shocking. So far, it’s working perfectly.

“Okay, now we get to the twins.”

Honor interrupts me. “You’re twins?” She points to Grace and Faith.

Faith laughs, and Gracie falls all over herself giggling. “No! They call us twins because we’re less than a year apart.”

“Oh, Irish twins,” Honor adds helpfully, or rather unhelpfully, because Ma jumps on it in a second.

“We are not Irish! A hundred percent Italian! Screw the Irish!” Ma raises and shakes her spatula like it was a golden, mighty fist, sauce dripping down the side of the spoon.

I lift my hands. “Easy, Ma. It’s an expression.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Salerno,” Honor says quickly. She’s going to do so well in this family.

“It’s okay, angel.” Ma tuts like she’s precious china. I agree with the precious part, though, so I don’t say anything.

“All right, so now that we’ve introduced you to everyone, we have our own announcement.”

Magically, everyone is silent, even though Angela and Cara are giving me death glares. A second from now, it won’t matter.

I curl an arm around Honor and take a deep breath. “I’ve asked Honor to marry me, and she’s agreed. She’s moved into my apartment, and we’re expanding Sal’s Boxing Gym & Fitness and the apartment. Honor has bought the laundromat next door, and well…that’s it.” I get the words out in one rushed breath and look at my girl and not the shocked faces of my family.

“I’ve never loved a woman or been happier in my entire life. I hope all of you will show her the same love and respect you’ve shown me and make her part of our family.”

For an entire minute, not one person speaks. The only sound comes when Ma drops her death grip on the sauce spatula, and it falls to the floor, sauce splattering everywhere, and then spreads her arms out wide and screams.

“Oh, my God! My dreams are coming true! My Nicholas is getting married!” And then the dramatics build as she drops to her knees, turns her face up to the ceiling, and prays. Out loud.

“Thank you, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph for this blessing you have brought upon our house. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I praise you! Amen! Amen! Amen!”

Dad moves to help her get off the floor, but he doesn’t move fast enough. Ma springs up and into my arms, tackle-hugging me. “Nicky, you’ve made your mama so happy, baby. So happy. And she’s perfect!” Ma stretches out a hand and curls it around Honor’s chin. “May you give me many grandbabies!”

Honor smiles and nods in her way.

“You’ll start right away…yes?” She grabs Honor’s arm and pulls her into our hug huddle.

“Marriage first, Ma,” I remind her.

“Yes, yes, marriage first.” She pulls back, tears rushing down her cheeks, and she claps. “Salvatore! You bring out the good stuff. We are celebrating!”

“Woman, you’re always celebrating!” he jabs back but heads toward the cellar door anyway.

After Ma finally lets us go, each of my sisters gives us their blessing and congratulations. Even Angela and Cara, who I kind of threw under the bus, have nothing but love and excitement to offer us.

Once my dad brings up several bottles of wine, opens and pours hefty full glasses, and passes one out to each of us, he clears his throat.

Dad doesn’t give speeches often, preferring to speak to us one-on-one when he has something to say, but in this moment, we all pay attention. He lifts his glass, stretches out his arm, and makes a slow circle, pointing his goblet at each one of us, making eye contact in the process.

“To my wife, my girls and their chosen mates, my son and his bride, all of you here today are now a part of the Salerno family. We fall in love hard…we give love deeply…and we give it for life.”

Honor squeezes my hand. I bring hers up to my lips and kiss right over her new shiny diamond ring we picked up this morning.

My father continues. “As you have chosen us, we have chosen you. We are family. Dio benedica la nostra famiglia. I love you all.” He raises his glass and then takes a sip of the lifeblood of our family. Our wine.

“Dio benedica la nostra famiglia!” each of the Salerno members repeats and then takes a sip.

“What does that mean?” Honor asks.

“It translates to, God bless our family.”

“God bless our family,” she repeats.

“I love you, soon-to-be Mrs. Salerno,” I whisper.

“I love you calling me Mrs. Salerno.” She smiles, and my world lights up.

As I stand around my family, chatting up each person, sharing stories of how Honor and I met, how we’re updating the gym and the apartment, it becomes real.

For eight years, I served in the army, trying to find my place, to protect and serve. Three years out, and I’ve built a business, found the woman I want to spend my life with, the person I now live to serve and protect. Everything I went through, the ups, downs, hardships, and losses, have all led me to now…to her.