Tell me you didn’t come back for me.
Fingers on my face. Turning me back to face her, until I feel her breath against my lips.
“I came back,” she whispers, “because I am not done.”
Soft lips press to mine, before she pulls away.
“I am not done with you, Stefano Asante. And there are things I need to do before I go.”
She half-smiles. “It’s notallabout you, you know.”
My hands begin to shake as they rise, rise to cup her cheeks.
“You’re a fool,” I breathe. Fear for her ices over my veins. “You weresafe, Cat. Damn you.”
Her hands slide around my neck. “Are you done with me, then?”
Speechless, I slowly shake my head. Run my eyes over her, still disbelieving.
She came back.
“Good.” I glance down, to where her fingers flick open the buttons of my shirt, revealing inches of skin beneath. “You need to clean up, too.”
My hand slips down to pinch my thigh. Just in case.
She sees it, laughs softly as she pushes my shirt over my shoulders. “The water is getting cold, Stefan.”
My clothes slip to the floor, and she takes my hand. Pulls me into the bath with her, pushing me down until my back rests against the porcelain.
Thudding heartbeats, banging inside my chest as we face each other.
She came back.
Day 43 – Caterina
Dark eyes lower. Still on my knees, I lift my hands to the sides of the bathtub.
Stefan’s eyes tighten as he examines the brand in my skin.
“Not here,” I whisper, and his lips tighten as if in disagreement. “Don’t let them in.”
Not in this moment, when we are laying ourselves bare for the other.
And he inhales, a slow nod making my fingers curl as he looks… lower.
His eyes trace my damp, flushed skin. Examine me, every inch. My breathing deepens as he traces my breasts, my nipples peaking in the cool air.
Stefan has seen my body before. I seem to spend most of my time in this fucking place naked, clothes forbidden in the training sessions that Cecile oversees. Just another form of power.
But… he’s neverlookedbefore. Not like this. He always keeps his face turned, trying to give me some privacy even as the rest of them work to strip it from me.
“Cat.” His own hands tighten on the porcelain, my name a groan torn from low in his throat. His voice is rough when he speaks again. “Mi sono innamorato di te, Caterina Corvo.”
When I go to him, his arms wrap around me, sending water sloshing over the side of the tub. I press myself against him, bury my face in his neck as his arms grip me, his hand on the back of my head. And he’sshaking.
“Ti amo,Stefano Asante.” I murmur the words into his neck, feel him shudder beneath me. My knees slip to either side of his legs, and he sucks in a breath. “You deserve more than what you have had. And when I leave here, I’m taking you with me.”
His throat bobs as he pulls away, Before he can argue, I slam my mouth down on his, his cheeks between my hands. My kiss is hard, almost harsh.
