#you are gonna have to carry heavy against napoli

[barcaislifeee]

our midfield is COOKED oh my god

[knifefather]

Mmmm you gotta do a scenario on helping Riz with those poor heavy breeder balls 🥴 I bet he'd appreciate you laving your tongue all over them and sucking his balls and his cock so thoroughly his legs turn to jelly

dI meannn Ris does have the biggest, juiciest balls of Passione so 👀 It is my duty to write about them! And I apologize that it took so long for me to fill this request. I hope that the wait was worth it!

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: messy blowjobs, size kink, established relationship. 18+ only 

Risotto hasn't gotten a nut in weeks.

He recently returned back to Napoli after carrying out a particularly difficult assassination. The capo had a difficult time tracking the target due to their powerful stand and an even tougher time getting the blood stains out of his clothes after he was done with them. Oh well. Wearing all black has its perks.

Risotto was gone for approximately 21 days. The bastard really gave him a run for his money, because Risotto hasn't had a chase like that in a very long time. It was challenging for sure, but nothing he couldn't handle. What he couldn't handle, though, was going so long getting a nut. He was on high alert for several days on end, and you just don't have time for that kind of stuff when you're stalking a drug lord Stand user.

Risotto did nothing but sleep after he got back. He was excited to see you, his partner, once again, but his excitement was overpowered by exhaustion. After reuniting with you, he stumbled into the bedroom and crawled into bed. And that is where he stayed, asleep. You woke him up periodically to feed him, but otherwise, you watched over him while he rested. After a few days, Risotto seemed to wake for good. You were coincidentally in the bedroom at that time, quietly putting away laundry. He groaned and slowly sat up in the bed, one of his huge hands coming up to run the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Hey, baby,” you greet, finishing hanging up a shirt in the closet. 

“Hey,” he croaks back. 

“You feeling okay?” you ask. You come to sit with him in the bed, your side still mostly made. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to rest on his shoulder. 

“I’m alright,” he responds. “Wanna lay down for awhile?”

“You’ve been laying down for like... three days,” you say, snickering at him. 

“You know what I mean. I’ve missed being close to you.” 

Pulling up the sheets, you crawl into bed with him despite being in your day clothes. You lay on your side and he snuggles against your back, holding you securely. He inhales deeply, not doubt smelling the sweet scent of your shampoo. The two of your are still for a moment, holding each other and listening to the sound of your synchronized breathing. It’s so peaceful and comfortable in the room that your eyes begin to slip shut. Though, you’re disturbed by something poking you in the back. You adjust yourself, hoping it would go away, but instead Risotto grunts while you move. 

“Morning wood?” you question, craning your head over your shoulder to smile at him. His black and red eyes are squinted as he fights off sleep once again. 

“You could say that,” Risotto says. “It’s been almost a month since I’ve gotten any. Couldn’t even touch myself.”

“You could get some right now, you know,” you say mischievously. His eyes open wider now, red irises shifting to look at you. 

“I’m too tired to fuck you properly.” He sounds disappointed. 

“Don’t worry about this. Let me take the reigns,” you assure him. You carefully untangle yourself from his arms and push the blanket off of you. At your direction, Risotto makes himself comfortable against the pillows and slides off his boxer shorts. You position yourself between his legs, laying on your stomach between his thighs. He parts them for you, looking down at you eagerly. The expression on his face is making you feel some feel hot on the inside. 

You gingerly grab his weighty cock and gave it a couple pumps with your fist. It’s as hard as a rock in your hand and stood intimidatingly tall. You can never get Risotto to fit in your mouth all of the way, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. You grab it by the base and guide it towards your lips, giving it a few broad licks. Looking up at him, his black and red eyes met yours. His lids are heavy, his breaths deep as you handle his cock. You mouth his tip, getting it nice and wet before taking more into your mouth. Risotto lets out a pleased sigh as you work your way down, taking more and more of him with every little bob of your head. 

“Merde,” he moans, his head rolling back on his shoulders before straightening. “I missed you so much,” he speaks, his hand coming down to cup the back of your head lovingly. You bat your lashes at him and smile as well as you can around his member. You swallow down more of him until you can’t stand it. Gagging yourself on his dick, you pump the remaining few inches that you can’t reach. Your saliva is dripping down his shaft as your mouth struggles to accommodate his pulsating length.  Risotto was never particularly vocal. He didn’t usually speak or moan very much. Though, this time, he’s breathless, grunting and groaning as you suck him with all you’ve got. You feel triumphant, and with a bit more confidence, you begin to bob your head more fervidly on his cock. Risotto’s thighs start to twitch on either side of you, his muscles growing restless and you try to suck the cum from him. “How are you doing that with your tongue?” he moans, running a hand through his short, white hair. You smugly continue to tease the underside of his cock with your tongue, all while your cheeks are hollowed. Cheekily, you use your other hand to cup his balls, squeezing him just tight enough to send jolts of pleasure up his spine. A loud moan escapes him, followed by him biting his lip to silence himself. Risotto’s cheeks are red with embarrassment, but you think that it’s adorable. His sweet, pleasured noise travels right to your pussy, causing you to tingle and throb as you suck him off. 

You can tell that your boyfriend is close because he’s beginning to buck up into your mouth. Usually he has enough control not to, because he is aware that his member is...bigger than average. But when he gets lost in the pleasure, on the edge and needing to cum, he will buck into your tight throat. Risotto only needs a little more to cum, just a bit. Tears are streaming steadily from your eyes, sloppy sounds coming from your throat with every bob of your head. Risotto grips your hair, pushing your head down slightly. “Gonna cum, cara,” he warns. But you’re prepared for it. You breathe in deeply through your nose and focuse all of your energy on relaxing your throat. Risotto lets out a long groan as he shoots his load down your throat. You sputter on his seed, some of it spilling out the sides of your mouth. Though, he’s relentless, and continues shooting ribbon after ribbon of his spunk. Drool, cum, and tears drip down your face and onto the sheets. The sight of you was truly beautiful. 

Risotto’s eyelashes are fluttering in bliss as he gets his fill. It felt like an eternity since he got to have your hands and mouth on him, and he’s so happy. You only pull back from his cock when you physically cannot take having in him your throat anymore. The capo relaxes his hand as you pull off his cock, sputtering and coughing as more cum drips down your chin. You swallow what you can, drawing in deep breaths in an effort to gather yourself. “Easy, easy,” Risotto speaks softly to you, loosening his grip on your hair and petting the back of your head gently instead. As you gaze up at him, you can’t help but smile. He returns the gesture, giving you a small smirk. His hand moves from the back of your head to your chin, tilting your face up at him. “I love you so much,” he professes. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“If you thought that this was just for you, then you are mistaken,” you reply wittily, still trying to regain your breath. “But you are welcome. I love you too, Ris.” 

Risotto strokes your chin with his thumb lovingly. “Likewise. Why don’t you let me get a towel for your face?” he says, the smooth bass of his voice vibrating in your ears. You nod enthusiastically. He plants a kiss on the top of your head before he crawls out of bed. 

[honeytea8]

La Dolce Vita • Risotto Nero/fem!Reader

A/N: I had the pleasure of doing an art trade with my sweet @string-bean-requiem and here it is!!! 💗💗 (it’s written with them in mind, but y’all can enjoy it too)

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: A fun night on the town offers the rare chance of falling for a handsome stranger...though to be fair, is he really even a stranger?

Warnings: Some kissing💀 and implied spice, nothing explicit.

Italian nightlife had never been something you had the chance to enjoy. The reason being that Passione had taken up so much of your time and each day was spent completely on work-related things. While some of your teammates, namely Formaggio and Melone made it a point to enjoy their weekends off the best they could, you did not. In fact, you seldom had the opportunity to join Napoli’s party-going masses, let alone step foot into a nightclub or bar.

So, naturally, when a wind of change had come to sweep you onto a different course, you were very much inclined to let it. Despite the inkling of trepidation growing in the pit of your stomach, you were also filled with excitement for the night that awaited you. You knew better than to squander this rare moment.

Tonight, you were out of town, miles across the Tyrrhenian sea, on the largest island south of the Italian peninsula—a place called Sicily known for its long history and traditions.

After a successfully completed mission, you choose to reward yourself, on the final night of your trip, by stepping out and enjoying whatever intrigues such a place had to offer. Who knew when you’d ever get the chance again?

A club called Bona Furtuna came highly recommended to you by a certain Sicilian native. It was a simple but newly renovated warehouse on the coast near Palermo. According to the locals, it was the place to be on a night like this.

Although a bit stuffy and filled with smoke swirling in the air like dry ice, bodies continued to fill up the dance floor, moving in tandem with the music. Girls in leotards and heels provided bottle service and cigars—all of which were somewhat of a shock to you. Initially, your carefully honed instincts kept you from enjoying yourself to the fullest, but by your third mojito, you felt yourself loosening up. Following a shot of tequila after that, you could feel the baseline thrumming against your teeth as the bright strobe lights bounced off your skin and hair.

Your hips whirled to the beat, a sheen of sweat on your neck and back. The dress you wore clung to you like second skin. It became easier for you to feed off the atmosphere; your body moved on impulse, responding to the silent cues that played off the swarm of people around you. It was spellbinding. However, the alcohol in your system did little to negate some of your more ingrained senses. The feeling of eyes trained on your back was something like an alarm in your conscience, but you were not in danger, far from it actually.

You kept dancing, swinging along with the beat, bating your silent observer. If he wanted to spectate, he could do just that. But it would be even more fun if he just cut loose and joined you on the dance floor.

In due time, the music shifted to something with a slower tempo; it was then that you felt a warm hand on your waist.

Body to body, you moved against him with practiced ease, rolling against his hips in a way that was titillating, slow, and steady as a river. He guided your movements in time with his own, like he knew your body better than you did. In a way, it didn’t surprise you. You could tell he was getting into it. Feeling impish, you skirted away from him with a spin, tossing a wink over your shoulder and strutting your way to the bar for a little reprieve.

“Water, please.” You called out to the bartender. “Light on the ice.”

Not a moment later, a glass of water was placed in front of you, but before you could reach for it, you caught sight of a mop of violet hair in your peripheral.

Your dance partner had joined you at the bar and with him came the familiar scent of Boucheron cologne and the perfect blend of citrus and spice. Finally able to see him in better light, you considered some of his most notable features. His beautiful aquiline nose; his red irises ringed in black sclera, which was unusual by nature. But held an equally intense and honest quality that made you smile a little. He was lovely to look at, dressed sharply in a crisp button up shirt with a few of them unfastened that gave a nice little peek at his chest.

He leaned against the bar, managing to tower over you still, though you remained undaunted. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.

“I’m okay with this.” was your simple but quick-witted reply, all the while, you eyed him sharply over the rim of your glass.

He looked amused, maybe even a little surprised by your quick denial, but not at all discouraged. That was a good sign, maybe he’d prove to be interesting company tonight. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive; the kind of sexy one didn’t have to try for. You decided introductions were in order so you offered him your name and hand, smiling when he took it and kissed it.

“My name is Risotto.” He said with a dimpled half-smile.

“A pleasure to meet you, Risotto.” And although he left you to do most of the talking, your conversation continued without a hitch. Eventually, when you asked what he was doing back in his hometown, Risotto revealed he was just here for business.

“What kind of business?”

He smirked. “Not the kind of thing I can share so easily with you.”

After that admission, you finally allowed him to buy you another drink before you both made your way back to the dance floor. You weren’t as coherent as you were prior. Inhibitions fell to the wayside and you swayed on your feet a bit, but thankfully Risotto held you firm, like an anchor in the sea of alcohol in your system.

You moved like an uncoiled rope, eyes alight with mischief, and a smile on your orange painted lips.

“Come now, Risotto.” You called over the music. “I’m sure you can dance better than that!”

“You’re really gonna keep up this act, cara?” He asked.

You looped an arm around his neck, and guided his hand onto your waist like before. In a golden moment of genuine amusement, Risotto laughed, showing off a row of perfect teeth.

“Yes, I am, even if you keep breaking character!” You carded your fingers through the hair at his nape, smiling as you leaned forward to peck his lips. “Now remember, we have never met!”

Risotto nodded, still smirking. You should’ve known he had something up his sleeve. He took one of your hands and twirled you around, then dipped you low enough that your cleavage was on display for half a second at most before he lifted you and pulled you close to his chest. It was minutes later that you noticed he was doing the tarantella, or a modernized version of this dance. It seemed the warm atmosphere brought out of the Sicilian boy that lived deep within the ever-stoic Risotto.

You and he danced all night until your feet were tender and he was left to carry your heels in one hand while holding you close with the other. His brawny arm was slung over your shoulder, and yours was looped around his waist for support.

“I love you,” you murmured into his armpit; it’s where you had managed to shove your head as he half-carried you back to your shared motel. When he didn’t immediately respond you chanced a peek at him. “Did you hear what I said?” You pouted a little, but all Risotto did was blink at you.

It was around two in the morning and the streets were empty save for the occasional civilian. Risotto pressed your back against the brick wall of a neighboring building. He guided one of your long legs around his waist just as you snaked both arms around his neck. The rough pad of his thumb brushed against your lips, the only warning you received before his mouth was on yours and kissing you deeply. The world and everything with it fell away in that single moment. One of your hands slipped down to fist his shirt. It was odd to feel him wearing one, especially with you being so accustomed to feeling his bare skin.

When he finally released you, Risotto murmured a quiet, “I love you too, always,” against the seam of your mouth before finally scooping you up and carrying you all the way home—where he could truly show you his love privately.

By morning, you were greeted with the heavy weight of an arm slung around your waist and warm breaths ghosting your neck. The sky was still blue, almost black but sounds of birds chirping was enough to confirm that it was indeed early. Groaning, you shifted in bed, feeling the muggy heat in the room and only the stifled breeze filtering in through an open window. Sicily was incredibly hot in the mornings; it was enough to make you sweat even as you slept.

Next to you Risotto’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and he was given a full view of your naked back. He pressed a feather light kiss to your bare shoulder before sitting up from the bed. It never took him long to fully wake up. When it came to vigor and strength, he was seemingly unmatched.

“We should head back in about an hour.” Risotto said, voice slightly hoarse, as he picked up his phone from where it was still charging near his suitcase. “We have a text from Prosciutto and several missed calls from Ghiaccio.” He raked a hand through his dyed hair as he spoke. You couldn’t help but notice that the purple color suited him nicely.

“Hm, that’s fine by me.” You yawned, dragging the sheets over your body, and tucking the excess under your arms.

Whatever meager strength you had was only enough to keep you barely coherent. You were tired from all the drinking and dancing, though you had fun, the morning after was one thing you could do without.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” You watched as your boyfriend scrolled through his phone, likely giving the squad a status update.

Risotto looked up from the device, lips parted and eyes wide like a scandalized old man.

“I meant the clubbing,” you corrected. “Did you enjoy our little game?”

He finally shrugged and gave a noncommittal hum; Capo Risotto was back in full effect, it seemed. You gazed at his bare chest, silently admiring the way his muscles flexed underneath his skin. You nearly missed his belated response.

“You were...a bit difficult in the beginning.”

“Oh? I didn’t notice.” You laughed.

Risotto watched as you milled about the hotel room, tossing random articles of clothes into your suitcase. You’d found a clean pair of panties and slipped them on quickly, while discarding the bedsheets in favor of an old t-shirt. When you came over to where he was standing, you held his leather coat in hand.

“I believe this belongs to you.”

He snorted lightly, before leaning in and capturing your lips in a soft kiss as thanks. Together you both dressed, forgoing breakfast so you wouldn't miss your ferry trip back to Naples.

As you gripped Risotto’s hand upon reentering the base, you leaned into him and bumped him tenderly with your hip. You toed off your shoes, suddenly greeted by the telltale sound of several arguing voices. And it was coming straight from the main room. You looked to Risotto with a heavy sigh.

“Will we ever get another night off?”

Risotto glanced down at you, understanding your pain. “We’ll try, tesoro.”

[movedyourchair505]

Napule Nights - La Festa Degli  Innamorati 2014

Time for the King and Queen of Napoli and their first Valentine’s Day. You guessed it, Elana helped x

- chapter navigation -

x

As the light became too bright, the sound of the alarm too sharp, the warmth of the bed too fleeting and the craving for a cigarette too prominent, Alexander turned over onto his back, his eyes squeezed shut after being open for merely a second, the light stinging and he groaned with discomfort, stretching out his arm, wide awake instantly when he realised once the alarm was off, the apartment was completely silent, and he was alone.

He shot up into a sitting position, raking his fingers through his hair, searching instantly for his phone, as he scrolled for her number listening out, but he knew he would have been able to tell had she still been in the apartment, her scent would've lingered, the sound of the shower would be audible, music even, the shuffle of clothes, but there was no sound but him tapping on the screen.

The phone was pressed to his ear quickly and he stood up, eyeing his clothes on the floor as well as noticing that hers were gone. The dial tone made his fingers clench tighter around his phone each time, his heart skipping a beat when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes, Alexander?”

The cheerful tone in her voice, the light-hearted smirk he could hear as she spoke, it eased the tension within him for merely a millisecond, the muscles in his jaw tightening instantly again. “Jade, where the fook are yeh?” he snapped. “Yeh fookin' kno' 'ow worryin' wakin' up wifout yeh 'ere is.”

“I'm just at Kane's,” she stated, unimpressed, looking down at her legs dangling off the counter and taking a sip from her coffee. “Lana made me some cappuccino. They had some fun, but don't worry, I didn't join in.”

Alex tensed, his jaw trembling. “Wha' are yeh playin' at, Jade?”

She exhaled loudly. “I'm not playing at anything,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “You said last night that you 'weren't big on la festa degli innamorati'.”

“Jade-...”

“So I figured I'd get taken care of here,” she continued. “I've got Zabaglione from Gli Oro, I've got coffee. Maybe I can borrow a toy from Lana.”

Miles gasped as he watched Jade hang up the phone without awaiting Alexander's response, a smirk playing around his lips as he shook his head in disbelief. “Bella...”

Jade raised an eyebrow with both Lana's and Miles' gazes on her. “What?” she shrugged. “He can do business all day, spend it however he wants, I won't get in his way.”

“Bella, 'e's gunna feel disrespected...”

“Yeah, he always does,” she said. “And he should. Saying he's not big on Valentine's Day and then expecting me to be there when he wakes up, maybe suck him off, make him coffee...”

Miles laughed. “Ya dun't need teh rile 'im up on purpose, eh?” he cackled, taking a sip from his own coffee.

Jade shrugged again. “I'm not gonna spend this day with him and act like it's just another day, like I'm okay with him not appreciating me.”

Less than half an hour later, there was a persistent ring at the door, though before Miles could even open, the member of security Alexander had placed at his apartment opened the door and Alex strode inside confidently, now dressed in a well-fitted suit in a merlot red velvet, the top few buttons of the black shirt underneath undone and revealing his chain and his sun-kissed chest. His hair was slicked back, a few strands falling over his forehead loosely and his fingers were clutched around two black velvet boxes, Helders stood behind him holding a bouquet of white roses in the other hand.

Jade straightened up where she sat on the counter, placing down her cup and looking at him with an eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Jade, c'mere.”

Despite her desire to frustrate him, despite having expect a different reaction entirely, certainly not him showing up so quickly, she couldn't suppress the instant curiosity his presence evoked within her, she was aching to open the gifts he'd evidently brought for her, she wanted to run her fingers through his hair, feel him relax if she ran her hand down the velvet material of his suit and having left early in the morning before he was awake, she craved his touch desperately, longed for his hands on her, the feeling of his lips hard and possessive against hers and she slid off the kitchen counter, her sparkly red heels clicking on the floor as she made her way over to him.

There was a fire in his eyes, an intensity she could hardly hold with her own gaze and as soon as she was close enough, his hand came down on her hip, then made its way to her lower back, pressed flat against the small of her back to pull her flush against him, his scent overwhelming her instantly.

“Jade,” he drawled, his upper lip stretching as he spoke, attempting to focus on the calm confidence his gesture carried rather than the nerve she'd allowed herself. “Did yeh realleh fookin' fink I wouldn't 'ave anehfin' for yeh todeh?” he asked, his voice deep, strained.

The depth in his chocolate brown gaze, the unshakable authority weakened her knees as well as it instilled a sense of realisation within her that she should have known better, how ridiculous it had been despite everything to think he would not use today of all days as another excuse to absolutely spoil her.

“Got a'ead of yehrself, eh?” he hummed. “I were joost teasin' yeh last night.” He knew he should not have felt so strongly about her winding him up when he'd done nothing but the same, both their impulses driven too far by the shared passion that drew him to her.

“What's this?” she asked, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

He smirked, handing her the small box first and she eagerly popped it open, her eyes widening at the pair of diamond earrings, reflective and shiny in the light and paired with an arrangement of emerald that sparkled just the same and perfectly matched the stone between her collarbones, and Alex knew that swallowing his pride and allowing her what she'd wanted was worth it merely for the look in her eyes, the glimmer of excitement, the pure joy as she took off the silver earrings she'd been wearing to replace them with the shiny new pieces, tilting her slender neck so he could see.

“Beau'iful, as predicted,” he drawled, licking his lips, then letting go of her to open the larger box in his hands, revealing a delicate headband, sparkling and covered completely in diamonds, an abundance of emeralds and jades raised in the middle to form the prongs of a crown.

Her eyes widened and she stepped closer to him, her lips parted in awe. “Alexander...”

He smirked at her unfiltered reaction, the pure excitement that spread across her features. “So yeh can feel like proper royalteh.”

Without another word from her, he took the generously jewelled item out, handing the empty box back to Helders before setting down the shiny tiara on her head, the heavy feeling of it only making her smile grow wider. “You're unbelievable.”

With his hands now free, he placed one on her hip again, the other cupping the side of her face and drawing her in, his lips crashing against hers and kissing her eagerly, the plush feeling of her lips, the heat of them, the desperate whimper that left her lips making his grip on her tighten.

She moaned needily when he drew back too soon, but her eyes fell shut instantly again as he angled back her neck and his kisses trailed down her jaw, his lips sucking, kissing lightly on her neck, skimming over her throat, her heart pounding as her body curved into his.

“Tha's not all I've got for yeh...” he rasped, his voice like velvet, his lips close to her ear. “Gunna take yeh down teh the car 'n weh're gunna 'ave a glass of Deau, eh?”

She breathed shakily, her fingers clutching on to his shoulder as his teeth sunk into her soft skin for merely a second, his breath ghosting over her neck.

“I got yeh tha' scent yeh was eyein' the other day, wif the gold” he added. “There's two Bordelle sets waitin' for yeh in the car as well...”

“Alexander...” she whispered.

He chuckled, reveling in the way she surrendered to him so willingly. “Got ya one of them toys wif the sonic waves...”

He felt her breath hitch in her throat as he spoke, pressing a kiss to her collarbone before angling her head to his level, waiting for her eyes to flutter open. “Yeh can use it wif me permission,” he stated. “Jade, look at meh.”

The depth of his voice, the promises had her melting for him, her heart pounding as she opened her eyes and met his. “I'm sorry,” she said, knew that given the extravagance of him, it was due.

He chuckled, shaking his head, his lip twitching. “Weh're goin' teh Paris,” he stated with a small smile, watching the excitement, the disbelief flicker across her face yet again with immense content. “There's a new dress, new 'eels 'n a bag yeh've wanted waitin' for yeh in the car too. 'n I'm gunna take out teh buy sum more nice fings when weh're on Avenue Montaigne.”

“W-Where are we staying?” she asked quietly to cover for the absolute wonder she knew was already evident in her expression, her hand smoothing down his shoulder.

He chuckled. “'s a loveleh spa 'otel, I booked it weeks ago. 'n the restaurant 'as the finest desserts in all of France. 'n the best lobster. I kno' the chef.”

She hung on to his every word, pressing herself closer to him, ready to say or do anything he could possibly ask of her.

He reached out to brush her hair back, trapping her chin between his fingers, his gaze still locked on hers as he spoke. “'n when weh get teh the room I'm gunna fook yeh so good, yeh won't question meh again.”

She could have dropped to her knees for him right then there, opening her mouth to speak, but found herself drawn out of the spell he had her under when she heard a slow clap staring behind her, turning to look over her shoulder to Kane grinning and clapping.

“Bravo,” he cackled. “Get out of 'ere then.”

Jade licked her lips, looking back to Alexander. “All of that for me?” She pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly and reaching to run her fingers through his hair. “Maestro?”

He was almost unable to suppress the immense satisfaction her words instilled within him, the smug smile playing around his lips threatening to get out of control. “'course, principessa,” he drawled. “The best ain't good enouf for me Jade.”