It's four hours past the time for Chinese New Year over here which means the start of lots of food, dinners and reunions and let's not forget, the collection of red packets. Fireworks and celebrations have long been over but it's now the year of the goat or rather it was as of 4th February so busy times!
It's been a really long time (seriously not exaggerating here), since I last updated this I know, but I haven't forgotten about this one. I did do a bit of research for this one just to make sure my facts were right and to set the scene. And then there was the whole sex scene which admittedly, I totally and utterly struggled with. It's the first time I've ever had to write one but I will get better at it. Oh, the places the imagination takes...
Enjoy ;)
Chapter 10
Your wedding and honeymoon has been spectacular; out of this world. It has been beyond even your own dreams. Simply because you got to marry her. Simply because she officially became yours...
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She whisked you away. Towards the end. Under the watchful gaze of her mother whose attention your own mother had garnered which now you've had time to think about it, must have been intentional; your mother was in it all along. You followed as Jane ushered you out where Frankie was standing besides what you're sure is one of your family's bentleys. How could you not? He opens the door, bowing a little in the process. It makes you laugh - his harmless mocking of those who wait hand and foot on the upper classes. You kiss him on the cheek. He's alright, this brother of yours.
Brother.
It gives you a warm feeling to officially call this man your brother. Although, not as warm a feeling to call the woman standing next to you your wife. She takes hold of your hand as she helps you into the car, gathering up the train of your wedding dress too. You watch from within as she puts her arms round broad shoulders, taking her brother into a well-deserved embrace. You see her whisper into his ear, the smile on his face as he nods and then before you know it, she's in the car next to you.
You're curious about where you're going but you're not about to question her. Till you pull up at the private landing strip that serves the Isles Foundation plane. It's then that you whip your head around. You start to panic. Because other than the dress you have on, you have nothing else. No clothes, no toiletries, no make up, and no shoes...But then she takes your hand, gently swiping her thumb over the back in an attempt to calm you and you realise that after the event of your life that she just pulled off, of both your lives, you know there's no stone she would leave unturned. But then something else occurs to you; Jane's style of both clothes and packing is nothing like yours and the thought makes your heart beat just that little bit too fast again. Till she takes hold of your face forcing you to look at her, to stay calm with her. It's enough.
She opens the door and looks back. "Relax," she says, grinning widely. "Your mother took care of the packing. But if I were to have it my way..." she says, leaning closer, her voice a mere husky whisper as your heart rate speeds up.
"You wouldn't be wearing anything anyway."
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She's taken you to Capri for your honeymoon, a place you have never been to before and a magical one at that. It's an island off the Sorrentine Peninsula on the south side of the Gulf of Naples according to Jane who's specially brought a little map for you to see knowing that you like to learn as much about a place as possible and how you prefer visual learning. You land at Naples International Airport, or Ugo Niutta as it is better known in Italy where you're then whisked off to Sorrento and onto a boat which takes the two of you to the island. It doesn't take long. Only about twenty minutes or so.
It's been a long journey.
From the ride to Logan airport where the two of you flew by private jet, courtesy of your mother to the ferry ride and walk up to the villas. The jet has probably been the best part by far. Jane's face - the uncertainty, the underlying terror, the nerves - you got to hold her hand. Not that you've let go of it since the two of you disappeared off into the night, hardly a word said, but for once, you got to be the strong one. And it felt great that she looked for you to be her strength. And despite the want and need rolling off the both of you since the moment you were alone back in Boston which would have resulted in the two of you joining the mile high club, she convinces you to do otherwise; she promises to make it worth your while.
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You wake up on warm cotton sheets, a light breeze blowing through the windows of the four white-washed walls of the place you will be spending the next three weeks of your honeymoon to find her gorgeous brown eyes mapping you; taking in every single feature, every freckle. You shiver as her finger traces you; from the tip of your nose, over your lips, down to your chin, then down your neck and over your clavicle. Her hand moves to your side and follows your figure all the way towards your thighs. Your breath catches. Then she's tracing back up over your hips bone, dipping into your navel before moving upwards, her scarred but gentle hands skimming the side of your breast where an aroused nipple makes an appearance. She completely ignores it. She moves further; up your chin till her hand finally rests on your cheek. Her gaze is tender, loving, adoring, venerate and something else...you flush under its intensity. You barely have time and the wherewithal to contemplate what that something else is as she takes you in for the sweetest kiss.
You sigh, her name escaping your mouth. "Jane." Your hands go to wrap round the side of her waist holding her still. She rests her forehead against yours and you close your eyes, breathing her in. It calms you but it does nothing for the steady arousal that's been building up since you made her yours. She brushes her nose against your own, giving you an eskimo kiss and you can't help but smile as the corners of your mouth turn up. This sweet side of her...it's yours and yours alone. And the best part? Nobody but you gets to see it.
"Come with me somewhere?"
You don't even hesitate.
"Yes."
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It's beautiful, the Blue Grotto.
It's a sea cave, the name of which derives from the brilliant blue, slightly emerald light that pierces within.
She bundled you into a medium sized row boat', complete with blankets and a small picnic basket, courtesy of the woman to whom the villa belongs. And then you spent a glorious quarter of an hour watching every ripple of arm muscle, slick with perspiration, flow smoothly in line with the gentle row. That perfect contour as it leads round and down to the back of her shoulder blade. You're thankful she chose to wear a tank top but then you wonder if perhaps, it wasn't deliberate because you catch the smirk that adorns her features; triumphant and warm, and you can't help but raise an eyebrow and allow your gaze to further roam the body in front of you.
And now you're here, you're in awe. The place is a sight to be seen. Beautiful and shimmering in the setting of the sun. The only light comes from the entrance itself and a singular round hole from above creating an ethereal feel. Underneath the clear water, you can just make out the outlines of several statues.
"The sea god, Neptune and greek god, Triton..."
"Son of Poseidon," you whisper. It's magnificent.
The cave carries a wealth of information, which Jane is more than happy to supply you. Like the fact that it was dedicated as a temple to the sea nymphs, and that it was once feared by the locals because of the belief that it was home to demons and spirits which, while the scientist in you would normally protest about such tall stories, makes it no less fascinating. It makes you giggle instead. And when she grins at you, it causes those non-existent butterflies; it's like you're falling in love all over again.
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The two of you end up enjoying a light dinner filled with freshly prepared ingredients on a secluded area of the beach just off from the cave itself. You have everything from cured meat, coppa, peperoncini, provolone, bocconcini and green olives to tomato salsa bruschetta to a green pesto pasta to freshly grilled egg plant and red peppers. And in amongst all that delightful food, a singular triangular peanut butter and fluff sandwich that seems to have inched its way in. You stifle a laugh but fail miserably. And along with it, comes the slight shake of your head at your detective's pure and absolute childlike delight at the sight of the small treat. It's so Jane.
Unsurprisingly, it gets polished off first. And though you too, have taken quite a fancy to the strange combination of flavors you let her have the whole, if only just to see her face. Because the best part of it all comes at the end - in the form of crumbs at the side of her mouth and the most minuscule trace of peanut butter and fluff on her lip. You laugh. She looks at you shyly, the picture of innocence in all its form and you can't help but picture a smaller, younger version of the brunette in front of you, crumbs and all, looking absolutely triumphant at having gotten the last fluffer nutter before the hands of her brothers. Because growing up as a Rizzoli, meant you had to fight for what you want.
And you can imagine Jane being top in everything.
It's a fact that Tommy and Frankie would sooner scowl at than admit. And as you close your eyes, letting your imagination taking you away, you feel the slightest stirring of that ever ticking biological clock as a mini-Jane - your daughter - with the same unruly curls, crooked smile and twinkling deep brown eyes, comes to mind. You quash it down, only to open you eyes and be met with a concerned, curious look. You give yourself a shake coming back into the moment and smile at her and for the time being, she lets it go. She knows you'll come to her when you're ready.
She lifts her hands in a move to clean the evidence off her face but you quickly catch her wrist wanting to do it yourself. You go to brush it off, and here's why it's the best; it's because you get to lean in and brush your thumb over wonderfully soft lips before going in closer and with the slightest flick of your tongue, you remove the remnants of the aforementioned sandwich.
She lets out a breathy laugh and it excites you, this hold you have over her. You don't ever want it to end. Her eyes gleam, black as midnight as a haughty eyebrow rises.
Challenge accepted.
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"Jane." It's an escape of air. You don't know what you were thinking before. Before when exactly? How much time had passed since you first issued the challenge? What on earth made you think you could win? That you could seduce her without her doing so just as equally back. And lose.
Her hands are everywhere; touching, caressing, stroking. Your wife. Your wife...it still brings fluttering feelings to be able to call her that. You pull her close and she meets you in a hard, heated kiss. Your fingers curl in her hair as her tongue pulls against your bottom lip, sucking with firm pressure.
"Oh god.." Slowly, deliberately, she pulls away, taking one last nip. Forehead against your own, you look up at her through hooded eyes. Her gaze is feral as she grins wolfishly at you. It sends shivers down your spine.
"Not god. Just Jane."
Whatever response you had on the tip of the your tongue, dissipates along with the night as she slithers her way down your body, her fingers sliding over the material of your dress, down your leg. She pulls the hem up, up, up and over. The coolness of the air in the chill of the night is anything but a relief on your heat. She places her body atop yours and gives you a seductive grin. Her eyes are full of promise and mischief, lust and love and her usually chocolate-covered orbs are as black as the night.
"Please..." It's a whimper of need. Yours?
You don't know anymore.
With deliberate, mind numbing slowness, her hands ghost over the tip of your nose, the side of neck, your clavicle and your breasts as her mouth follows the same maddening path. Your nipples tingle. Your clit is swollen with need. Her fingers dance, playing a tune only your body knows, that only you will ever know. Her hands move back over your arms and she slips languidly around you, kissing, nipping, biting, soothing. Your nipples are already rock hard by the time she takes one in hand to roll between long fingers. You watch as she leans back, taking a single yoga-toned leg, her tongue flicking out, mapping a slick path from your knee to the top of your thigh.
"Beautiful," she whispers.
You watch through heavy lidded eyes as she lowers her head, nearer to the pooling arousal and desire of your pussy. Gently, she nuzzles your clit, breathing warm air against your nub. You gasp, thrusting your hips towards her. Your hands tangle in her hair in a desperate attempt to guide her to where you need her most but it's clear that on this night, she's going to take her time.
She moves painstakingly slowly. The low chuckle and self-satisfied hum causes you to tighten you thighs around her head. Arms flexing round, she eases your thighs apart, the combination of the cool air and her hot breath as she hovers over you causes goosebumps to appear. You struggle to sit up. To watch. And your body reacts releasing more fluid as she flicks her tongue over your clit, fast, mad strokes that build you up giving you no chance to prepare, to build up towards it because in truth, you've been building up for this for hours. Her fast pace causes an immediate coil of heat to roll through.
Your hips thrust forward as she inserts one finger, then two. She pushes in deep. All the way to the knuckle, sliding long, thin fingers along your walls as she draws back out. Her fingers move deeper, twisting, turning. Easily finding that special spot, she plays you in the same way she does in the build up to a piece. Softly, slowly, she builds up to the crescendo, her fingers moving wickedly hard and fast, only to slow down again, drawing you back down, keeping you on the edge. Your head falls back, your elbows unable to support you. She works you with maddened intensity, coaxing you, building you to mind numbing levels where all thought vanishes but without actually bringing you over.
You need release. Your desperate for it. Writhing, moaning, grinding, hips lifting, you twist your hands in her hair, begging.
"Please, Jane. Oh god. Ohhh..." Your eyes roll back. She thrusts harder. Sucks harder. Drives harder.
Until finally, with one final twist, one singular scrape along sensitive walls, she allows you over the precipice where you witness your own personal big bang. The stilling of time.
That one moment where all of you came together; where every conversation, every thing you've seen, felt, heard, you feel every tendon, muscle, atom...you hear the blood rushing through you as your heart beat speeds up, the gentle lapping of the water against the boat, the distant sound of a horn. She's in you, on top of you, touching you, surrounding you.
And then it all explodes.
x
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x
The rest of your honeymoon in between making love is spent walking the hills, exploring the roman ruins, holding hands. Just simply being.
And as you stand on the cliffs of Capri, overlooking the blue of the Tyrrhenian sea, a short step away from the villas of Tiberius, all twelve of which were named after Olympian gods, you can't help but compare her to one of them. This woman; friend, lover, wife. Who stands strong beside you. Olive skin glistening in the sun, untamed curls flow down across her back, she stands next to you; confident yet shy, fearless and trusting, resolute and secure in your love for her and her for you. You glance at her and she smiles at you, and once again, there's a sense of peace that overcomes you. Because she's by your side. She's yours. For now and forever.
And you're not afraid of what comes next.
From this moment on, you're in this together.
Reviews are, as always, love. Thank you to all who have taken the time to leave one. Your words are much appreciated.