He understood. “Later,” he said, gravel in his voice. “We’ll talk later.”
Then his mouth was on hers.
It was not a kiss, but a collision—lips pressing, tongues warring, a silent battle for oblivion. His hands fisted in her hair; her nails scored his back, pulling him closer until not a sliver of doubt remained between them.
The space between comfort and need evaporated. Clothes were a frantic, forgotten barrier. Her tank top was tugged over her head; his sweatpants were shoved aside. When he looked down at her, his body poised over hers, his eyes held a final, raw question.
Her answer was to arch her hips, a silent, desperate invitation.
He filled her in one deep, claiming thrust. She cried out—a sound of shock, of pleasure, ofproof. This was real. He was real.
They moved like a storm, a tangle of sweat-slick limbs and ragged breath. The world—the estate, the threats, the ghosts of their past—shattered and fell away. There was only this: the weight of him, the slide of skin, the blinding, shared release that crashed over them, leaving them trembling and anchorless in its wake.
They stayed locked together, hearts hammering a frantic, slowing rhythm against each other. Moonlight silvered the sweat on his skin.
For the first time all day, the world and its consequences could wait.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tonio woke to warmth.
Dawn leaked pale around the curtains, a soft gray that made the world quiet. Sofia was pressed against him, her back tucked into his chest, her body curled into his as it had always belonged there. The sheet had slipped low, the first light catching the curve of her shoulder.
He didn’t sleep next to people. Ever.
Yet sometime in the night, he’d pulled her into him—and stayed.
Careful not to wake her, he shifted onto his elbow. He studied her face. Asleep, her defenses were gone—no sharp edges, no fight. That stubborn line between her brows was smooth, her lips soft.
His chest tightened.
He felt the moment she began to wake, a subtle tension seeping into her muscles before her eyes even opened.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice low.
Her cheeks warmed. That small, unguarded reaction hit him harder than he expected.
“How about breakfast? The family’s not up yet. We can raid the kitchen,” he murmured.
She turned around to face him, then said quietly, “That sounds good. Coffee would be amazing right now. About last night—”
“Don’t.” His voice was rougher than intended. “We have plenty of time to discuss later…on our date.”
Her eyes widened. “We’re going on a date?”
He smirked. “Yes. We are.”
He swung his legs off the bed and pulled on a T-shirt and sweats, feeling her gaze following him.
She sat up, the sheet clutched like armor.
“What about people noticing?” she whispered. “Right now, I’m nothing. Seen with you, I’m a name. In your world, that’s a target.”
He didn't hesitate. “Let them try.”
He meant it.
They got dressed and made their way to the kitchen. He guided Sofia down the staircase, his hand brushing lightly against her back. Noise came from the kitchen as they walked in. Her fingers twitched nervously as she took in the scene. Mia was already there, casual in sweatpants and a loose sweater, pouring coffee into mugs. She looked up, her smile warm.
