__________________ MOTIVATION ♧ KELLY ROWLAND , LIL WAYNE ____________________

By the third morning of the trip, I had fully settled into the rhythm of Antonio's family dynamics—equal parts business, gossip, and thinly veiled manipulation disguised as polite conversation.

Breakfast was served on the open-air terrace overlooking the sparkling Amalfi coastline. A massive spread of fresh fruit, pastries, meats, and cheeses was arranged on the long dining table, along with strong espresso and fresh-squeezed orange juice. The warm breeze carried the scent of the sea and citrus trees, making the entire setting feel like something out of a movie.

I yawned as I settled into my seat beside Antonio, still sore from last night. His hand rested on my thigh under the table, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over my skin. He looked effortlessly put together, already in a crisp linen shirt and slacks, while I was still trying to wake up.

Across from me, Alessandro was nursing an espresso, dark circles under his eyes. "If I hear one more fucking seagull this morning, I'm going to shoot one."

"Language," his mother scolded as she passed him a plate of figs.

Antonio smirked, sipping his coffee. "You shouldn't have stayed out drinking all night."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alessandro said dryly, "I forgot we're on a romantic getaway for two. Must be nice."

I grinned, stabbing a piece of melon with my fork. "Oh, it is."

Antonio's mother turned her sharp gaze on me, the weight of her scrutiny settling over me like a perfectly folded silk napkin—smooth, elegant, and impossible to ignore.

"You seem well-rested, Celine," she said, her tone polite but knowing.

I smiled, sipping my espresso as if I didn't catch the implication. "Best sleep of my life."

Antonio hid his smirk behind his coffee cup, but I felt his fingers tighten slightly on my thigh. Alessandro outright snorted, muttering something under his breath that made one of Antonio's uncles chuckle.

"And how are you enjoying your time here?" she continued, slicing delicately into her pastry.

"It's beautiful," I admitted, my tone genuine. "The view, the food, the... hospitality."

"Good," she said smoothly, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "Because I was thinking, since you and Antonio seem so... comfortable here, perhaps you should extend your stay?"

I nearly choked on my espresso. "Extend?"

"Mamma," Antonio warned, his tone already edged with irritation.

"What?" She blinked innocently. "I'm simply saying, a few more weeks in Italy could do you both some good. You've been living such a fast-paced life back in America. A little time to relax, think about the future..." She let her words trail off meaningfully.

Oh. That was what this was about.

Alessandro smirked. "By 'future,' she means babies."

Antonio's mother might have dropped the conversation about babies for now, but the tension still hung in the air like the thick scent of espresso and citrus.

I focused on my plate, idly pushing around some fresh figs while the conversation shifted to family business. It was the same blend of polite diplomacy and underlying menace that I'd come to expect from Antonio's family—updates on investments, discussions about territorial disputes disguised as "market expansion," and casual mentions of people who no longer had the privilege of doing business with them.

Alessandro, already on his third espresso, glanced at Antonio. "You handling that shipment yourself, or are you sending someone?"

Antonio took a sip of his coffee, expression unreadable. "I'll oversee it."

His mother, who had been carefully spreading marmalade onto her toast, didn't even look up. "No, you won't."

Antonio's jaw twitched. "Mamma—"

"You're on vacation, Antonio," she said smoothly. "That means no business. You and Celine are staying here, relaxing. I'll have Matteo handle it."

"I don't need Matteo handling my business—"

"You don't have a choice," she cut him off, finally looking up from her plate. "Your father agrees with me."

Antonio exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to keep himself from arguing in front of the entire family. I hid my smirk behind my coffee cup.

Alessandro, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying the show. "Oof, she pulled the 'Father agrees' card. It's over for you, brother."

Antonio shot him a murderous look. "Shut up, Alessandro."

"What? I think it's nice that Mamma wants you to relax. You work too much," he said innocently, then glanced at me. "Right, Celine?"

I arched a brow. "Oh, I'm very supportive of Antonio taking a break." I set my fork down and leaned into him, resting a hand on his arm. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen if he steps away for a little while?"

Antonio side-eyed me, unimpressed. "You're enjoying this."

"A little."

His mother gave a satisfied nod. "It's settled, then."

Antonio muttered something under his breath, but I could tell he wasn't going to push back. Not when his mother and father were united against him.

"Now," his mother continued, "since you're both staying, we should plan a nice family dinner tonight. Formal, of course."

"Of course," I echoed, knowing there was no escape.

Alessandro grinned. "Oh, this is going to be fun.""

Antonio sighed, rubbing a hand down his face before downing the rest of his coffee. "I need another drink."

I laughed, leaning into him. "Welcome to your vacation, Papi."

As soon as breakfast ended and Antonio was thoroughly defeated by his family, I turned to him with a sweet smile. "I want to go shopping."

Antonio barely glanced at me as he poured himself another espresso. "Take one of my cousins or my mother. They love that shit."

I pouted, looping my arms around his neck as I leaned in. "But I want you to take me."

He exhaled, giving me a look that told me he already knew he was going to lose this battle. "Celine—"

"Please?" I dragged the word out, tilting my head. "You did say you were on vacation now. And what's more relaxing than spoiling your wife?"

Alessandro, still lounging at the table, smirked. "Careful, brother. Next thing you know, she'll be asking you to carry her bags, too."

"Obviously," I said before Antonio could respond. "That's part of the experience."

Antonio sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine."

I grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it, Papi?"

Alessandro chuckled. "She's got you wrapped around her little finger."

"Shut the fuck up, Alessandro."

I beamed, already mentally planning my shopping spree. "Come on, Antonio, I need new dresses, shoes, jewelry... and I'm thinking about getting another bikini or two."

That caught his attention. His eyes darkened slightly as he pulled me closer. "Another bikini?"

"Mmhmm." I traced a slow finger down his chest. "Maybe something even smaller than the ones I packed."

Antonio's grip tightened around my waist. "Get in the car. Now."

I laughed, grabbing my bag as he led me away from the terrace, shaking his head. "You're going to be the death of me, woman."

"But what a way to go."

The boutique was luxurious—soft velvet seating, dim lighting, and delicate lace and silk pieces displayed like works of art. I could feel Antonio's tension the second we stepped inside. He leaned against a mirrored column, hands in his pockets, looking like a man who had no business being surrounded by this much temptation.

Which was exactly why I was going to make him suffer.

I picked out a few pieces, all delicate, barely-there slips of fabric, and disappeared into the dressing room. The first set was black—lace, sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. I adjusted the thin straps and stepped out slowly, knowing exactly what I was doing.

Antonio's gaze snapped to me, and for a moment, he didn't move. Just stood there, lips parted slightly, jaw tightening.

"What do you think, Papi?" I twirled a little, letting the hem flutter.

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his jaw. "You're playing with fire, tesoro."

"Am I?" I tilted my head, pretending to examine the fit. "I just want to look good for you."

His eyes dragged over every inch of me, dark and heavy with something that made my stomach tighten. "Come here."

I stepped closer, heart pounding as his hands slid up my bare arms, fingers ghosting over the lace at my hips. "This is dangerous," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You know I don't have patience for teasing."

I smirked, pressing a hand to his chest. "Who said I was teasing?"

Antonio's grip tightened, and I saw the exact moment his restraint began to crack. His pupils were blown, his breathing heavier. "Go change. Now."

I should have listened.

Instead, I bit my lip and leaned in, just enough for my breath to brush his ear. "What if I don't?"

That was all it took.

Antonio grabbed my wrist and pulled me back into the dressing room, slamming the door behind us. My laugh turned into a gasp as my back hit the mirror, his body pressing into mine, his hands sliding up my thighs.

"You think I won't take you right here?" he murmured against my throat, his voice thick with warning. "In this tiny fucking dressing room?"

My breath hitched, heat pooling between my legs. "Then do it, Papi."

His eyes darkened. "Celine."

"Yes?" I whispered, knowing exactly what I was doing.

The moment the words left my lips, Antonio's control snapped like a frayed thread.

His hand wrapped around my throat—not tight, just enough to make me feel it, to remind me exactly who was in charge. His lips ghosted over my jaw, my pulse hammering under his touch.

"You just don't know when to stop, do you?" he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something much darker.

I smirked, pressing my body into him, feeling how hard he already was. "Maybe I like pushing you to your limits."

Antonio exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into my hips, forcing me flat against the mirror. "You want me to fuck you in a boutique dressing room, huh? Where anyone could hear?" His grip slid lower, curling around the flimsy lace at my hips. "You think I won't?"

I swallowed hard, a delicious shiver running down my spine. "I think you care too much about your reputation."

His grip tightened. "You have five seconds to take that back."

I grinned up at him. "Make me."

A dangerous flicker crossed his expression, but before he could act on it, a knock at the door shattered the tension.

"Signora? Do you need help with sizing?"

Antonio immediately stepped back, running a hand through his hair as if trying to will himself into some kind of composure. I, on the other hand, was barely holding back my laughter.

"No, I'm fine!" I called out, struggling to keep my voice even.

Antonio shot me a murderous look. "Go. Change."*

I batted my lashes at him. "Or what?"

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Or I'm bending you over this counter the second we get home."

A thrill shot through me, but I bit my lip and slipped past him, making sure to let my fingers trail down his chest as I did. "Can't wait, Papi."*

By the time I stepped back out in my normal clothes, Antonio was already waiting by the register, his credit card in hand. Without a word, he paid for every single thing I had tried on.

As we walked out of the boutique, I looked up at him with a smug smile. "See? Shopping can be fun."

His jaw clenched. "You think you're so fucking cute."

I grinned, slipping my arm through his. "No, Papi. I think you think I'm cute."

Antonio exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he led me down the cobbled streets. "You're going to be a problem tonight."

And God, I couldn't wait.

As soon as we slid into the car, the air felt charged, thick with what had just happened. I slid into the passenger seat, but before Antonio could even put the car into drive, I climbed across the console and onto his lap, my knees straddling his thighs.

His breath caught, hands gripping the wheel as I settled against him, my face inches from his. I could feel the heat of his body, the tension that had been simmering between us, and I smirked, running a finger down the side of his neck.

"Celine," he warned, voice low, gravelly, but I could tell there was a trace of amusement underneath it.

"What?" I leaned in, brushing my lips against his jaw, feeling the slight tremor in his body as I teased him. "You said you didn't have patience for teasing."*

"I said that to stop you from pushing me too far," he muttered, his grip tightening on the wheel, knuckles white. "And here you are, on my lap, making it worse."*

I laughed softly, kissing his neck just below his ear. "I know," I whispered, "but I like making you lose control, Papi."*

Antonio's eyes flicked to me for a second, dark and intense, before he looked back at the road. "If you keep doing this, we're not making it back to the villa," he muttered, voice strained.

But I could feel him beneath me, his body responding to mine despite his best efforts to remain in control. I shifted just slightly, letting the heat between us build, my lips grazing his skin. "We don't have to make it back right away," I teased, my voice breathless as I leaned closer, brushing my lips over his.

He groaned, hands tightening on the wheel. "You're pushing it, Celine."*

"I'm just getting started," I whispered, moving my hips just enough to feel the heat of him against me, his breath catching.

I could feel the car's speed increase as he fought to keep himself in check. But I knew him, and I knew this was going to be a ride neither of us would forget.

By the time we made it back to the villa, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over everything. The house was buzzing with activity—Antonio's family still around, settling into their places at the long, elegant dining table. The scent of roasted meats, fresh seafood, and herbs wafted through the air, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

I could already feel the heaviness of the tension between Antonio and me lingering, a thin thread that threatened to snap at any moment. But for now, we were back to the façade—the calm, polished version of ourselves that his family expected.

Antonio leaned in and whispered in my ear as we took our seats. "You look stunning tonight, but I'm still not done with you."

I smirked at him, my body still humming from earlier. "You say that like it's a threat."

His hand brushed over mine on the table, a small, subtle reminder that he was still very much aware of me, even as we both played our roles for his family.

As dinner began, the conversations flowed, but there was an undertone of curiosity and expectation that I couldn't ignore. I caught Alessandro sneaking glances at Antonio and me every so often, a knowing look in his eyes. He was always one to observe more than he let on.

Antonio's mother, ever the hostess, made sure everyone had what they needed, her sharp eyes scanning the room. She had a way of making everything feel like it was carefully controlled, even the air we breathed.

"Celine," she said, her voice smooth, "how have you been enjoying the trip so far?"

I offered a polite smile. "It's been lovely, thank you. Your villa is incredible. It's the perfect getaway."

Her eyes glinted, but she didn't press further. It was clear she was the kind of woman who prided herself on getting information through subtlety, not direct questioning.

Antonio's father, seated at the head of the table, spoke up. "It's good to have the family together again. It's been too long." He paused before adding, "It's hard, with business, but we manage. We always manage."

There was a weight to his words, a reminder of the lives they led, and yet, it almost felt like a silent invitation for us all to pretend everything was normal, everything was fine.

Dinner proceeded as usual—small talk, laughter, passing of platters, but the tension simmered underneath, especially with Antonio and me. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that, despite the beauty of the evening, everything was still in motion, unpredictable.

But as the meal wound down, and the conversation shifted to something lighter, Antonio's hand found mine under the table once again. It was a simple gesture, but it was everything. The connection between us was undeniable, even if the rest of the world didn't know it.

After the main courses were finished, and dessert was being served—delicate tiramisu and zesty lemon sorbet—Antonio leaned closer to me. "Later..." he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. "Don't forget. I'm not done with you yet."

I couldn't help but smile, my heart racing, knowing the evening was far from over. But for now, we had to play the part of the happy couple, surrounded by his family, pretending everything was perfect. Even if we both knew that was far from the truth.

The evening stretched on, the villa glowing under soft golden lights as laughter and conversation filled the air. Plates were passed, wine glasses refilled, and despite the ever-present tension of Antonio's family dynamics, the food was too good not to enjoy.

Across the table, Alessandro was swirling the last of his wine in his glass, watching Antonio and me with amusement. "So, Celine," he started, smirking. "Are you planning to steal my brother away forever, or should we expect him back in the real world at some point?"

Antonio shot him a warning look, but I simply smiled. "I don't steal, Alessandro. I just take what's already mine."

A few chuckles broke out around the table, but Antonio's mother remained unimpressed, sipping her wine with the same unreadable expression she always wore.

Antonio's father leaned back in his chair, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore. "The two of you seem... close," he said, studying us. "Good. A man needs a strong woman at his side."

I felt Antonio's hand tighten slightly around mine under the table. I wasn't sure if it was meant as reassurance or a warning.

Alessandro scoffed. "And here I thought you preferred your sons to be married off like business deals."

The room went silent for a second too long.

Antonio's mother set her wine glass down with a soft clink. "Your brother is smart enough to know what's best for him," she said coolly. "And so is Celine."

A statement. A test. A veiled challenge.

I simply smiled, cutting another bite of my tiramisu. "Of course."

The conversation moved on, but the air never fully lightened. Antonio stayed quiet beside me, his presence a constant heat against my side. His family was watching, evaluating, calculating in a way I was all too familiar with.

As the night stretched on, the wine did its job—loosening tongues, softening edges. Music played faintly in the background, and soon, people began to push back from the table, drinks in hand, heading toward the outdoor terrace where the night air was cool and inviting.

Alessandro stood, stretching, then shot a glance at me. "Celine, you dance?"

I raised a brow. "I do."

Antonio groaned, already knowing where this was going. "No."

"Oh, come on, fratello," Alessandro grinned. "Let your wife have some fun."

Antonio exhaled, rubbing his temple, but I just laughed and stood, holding my hand out to Alessandro. "You offering?"

He took my hand, winking. "Always."

Antonio's mother watched us carefully as Alessandro led me onto the terrace where a few of the younger family members had already started swaying to the music. I could feel Antonio's gaze burning into me as Alessandro spun me into a loose, easy rhythm.

"Relax," Alessandro murmured, his grip light. "You look too serious."

I smirked, swaying with the music. "I don't trust you."

He chuckled. "Smart girl."

Antonio joined us moments later, taking my hand and pulling me effortlessly away from Alessandro. He tugged me against his chest, his grip firm. "Enough."

I looked up at him, heat sparking in his gaze. "Jealous?"

His fingers tightened around my waist. "Annoyed."

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Then dance with me, Papi."

Antonio didn't hesitate. His movements were smooth, controlled, completely in command, as he moved us to the rhythm of the music. His hands slid down to my hips, pressing me closer, and I could feel his family watching, but I didn't care.

The night was warm, the wine had settled in my bloodstream, and Antonio's touch burned through me like a slow, consuming fire.

I leaned up, brushing my lips against his ear. "Take me to bed, Papi."

Antonio exhaled sharply, his grip on me tightening. "You have no idea what you just started, Tesoro."

I smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw. "Then show me."

Celine's POV – Ruined Lace & Reckless Desire

I knew exactly what I was doing the second I stepped out of the bathroom.

The black lace clung to me like a second skin, whisper-thin and barely decent. Antonio sat at the edge of the bed, his gaze dark and unreadable, but the way his fingers curled into his thighs told me everything I needed to know.

I turned slowly, letting him take it all in, my hands gliding down my sides. "Well?" I teased, tilting my head. "Do you like it?"

He didn't answer.

Didn't move.

The air between us crackled, thick with heat, with the kind of tension that had my pulse hammering against my ribs.

I stepped closer, the soft glow of the room making his sharp features even more devastating. I traced my fingers along his jaw, tilting his face up to mine. "Antonio," I murmured, dragging out his name like a promise.

His hands snapped to my hips, rough, demanding, sending a thrill up my spine.

And then—

The lace tore.

A sharp gasp escaped me as he ripped through the delicate fabric with nothing but his hands, shredding the expensive lingerie like it was paper. The sound alone sent a shiver down my spine, my breath hitching as the ruined lace fell away, exposing more and more of my skin to the cool night air.

"You don't need this," Antonio muttered, his voice thick with hunger, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "You never did."

I shivered, not from the cold, but from the way he looked at me—like he'd been starving for days and I was the only thing that could satisfy him.

His hands were everywhere—spanning my waist, gripping my thighs, skimming over my ribs like he was trying to commit every inch of me to memory. The ruined scraps of lace fluttered to the floor, completely forgotten.

I barely had time to process before he pulled me onto his lap, his breath hot against my throat. "You drive me insane," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my skin, the heat of his words sending chills down my spine.

Good. That was exactly what I wanted.

I rolled my hips against him, slow, teasing, feeling the sharp inhale he took as I did. "Maybe you should do something about it then."

His grip tightened. A warning. A promise.

Antonio wasn't a man who did anything halfway. When he wanted something, he took it. And right now, the way his fingers dug into my skin, the way his mouth brushed over my collarbone, told me he was seconds away from unraveling completely.

"I should punish you for making me sit through dinner with this on your mind," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

I smirked, my nails raking down his chest as I leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "Then punish me."

That was all it took.

Antonio stood in one smooth motion, carrying me with him, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. My back hit the bed, his body covering mine in an instant, his mouth claiming mine in a way that left no room for hesitation, no space for second thoughts.

I didn't need any.

I wanted him.

And judging by the way he was already devouring me, he was more than ready to oblige.

His hands gripped my thighs possessively as he settled between them, his face burying itself between my thighs. His fingers spread my legs wider, giving him better access as he dived in, his tongue parting my folds in one long, languid lick.I gasped, my back arching off the bed as his tongue found my clit, circling it with expert precision. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving me wild. His hands gripped my ass, pulling me closer to his face, his tongue delving deeper into my folds.

Antonio pulled back suddenly, a wicked glint in his eye. Without warning, his palm connected with my sensitive pussy in a sharp spank. "For all that teasing during dinner," he growled, delivering another smart slap.

He continued to spank my swollen folds, the sting mixing with the throbbing ache he'd already built there. His fingers spread my lips wider, making each slap more intense. "You like torturing me with those little smirks and whispered words?" He spanked again.

I thrashed my head on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as he continued to redden my pussy with his punishing hand. "A-Antonio..!" I begged, not even sure what I was asking for. More? Less? To just take me already? "P-please.."

Finally, Antonio stood up, his hand leaving my throbbing pussy as he began to undo his pants. But before I could catch my breath, he bent back down and landed one final, brutal slap right on my clit. I cried out, burying my face in the pillow.

He pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his thick length. Before I could catch my breath, he grabbed my legs and threw them over his shoulders, making me squeak in surprise. He entered me hard and deep, stealing my breath away. "Goddamn,"

He groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he began to fuck me with long, powerful thrusts. Each one hit just the right spot, leaving me gasping for air. He didn't say another word, just buried his face in my neck and fucked me like a madman.

My body adjusted to his size, taking him deeper with each thrust. The sting from his spanking still lingered, mixing perfectly with the pleasure of him filling me completely. The angle with my legs on his shoulders was intense, hitting that perfect spot inside me. "Fuck..." I whimpered.

Antonio's pace quickened, his hips slamming against mine with every thrust. The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room, mixed with our heavy breathing and the occasional whimper from me. His teeth sank into my shoulder, marking me as he chased his release. "You're so fucking tight,"

he growled against my skin. "I'm going to fill you up so good, you won't be able to walk straight." His hand snaked down between us, finding my clit and rubbing it in fast, tight circles. The double stimulation was too much. "I'm-I'm coming!"

"That's right, baby," he grunted, hitting that magical spot inside me again. "Come all over my cock. This is just your first orgasm tonight, Celine." He nipped at my jaw. "I'm going to make you come so many times, you'll lose count."

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