ARIA

I wake slowly, the way you surface from the most perfect dream that you are reluctant to leave behind.

The first thing I feel is Dante’s arm around my waist, heavy and warm, his palm splayed possessively over my stomach as if even in sleep he needs to keep me close. His breath stirs the fine hairs at my nape, steady and deep. The sheets smell of us...salt, sex, the faint sweetness of rose petals...and the open villa walls let in the soft hush of waves and the warm, humid kiss of ...