“Then I will look after it more carefully.” His lips press to my forehead. “What do you want, Cat?”
I think about it. And he gives me that space, waiting patiently as if we have all the time in the world, both of us standing in water at the edge of the sea.
And in the end, the answer is surprisingly simple. “I want to be happy.”
“Then focus on that.” He half-smiles, sadness and anger still lingering in his eyes. “Do more of what makes you happy. Not everything has to be a battle.”
We walk slowly back to the house. Dante slides the monitor out of his pocket, checking it. “She’s asleep?”
He nods. And my hand tightens around his. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
Dante swallows. “You’ve never asked me that before, you know. Not out loud.”
Maybe I need to be a little more careful with his heart, too.
So I lead him to my bedroom. My damp feet sink into the rug as I pull off my swimming costume. He hesitates. “Give me a minute.”
He’s gone for the few minutes it takes to brush my teeth, slipping inside. My eyes skate over the fresh, dry shirt, my heart squeezing.
“Tell me,” he rasps. “If you feel – if there’sanything.”
I want his skin against mine. Want to feel him all around me. He balks when I unbutton the front of the shirt, but I only press my lips to his bare chest. “Just the back.”
Dante follows me down onto the bed, our bodies slotting together in perfect connection. He tangles his fingers with mine, his lips moving over my mouth, my neck. My breasts, his tongue rasping over my nipples, sealing over them and sucking until my back bows.
He pauses to kiss the brand in my skin before he continues down. And my stomach flexes as he examines the marks there, in the low golden light of the lamp next to the bed. His lips are reverent as they travel over me, as if he’s learning me all over again. His fingers dip, feeling the wetness between my legs as he strokes, the pad of his finger rubbing against my clit.
And when I’ve had enough, when I can’t wait anymore, I pull him up, his mouth on mine as he pushes inside me with excruciating gentleness.
We don’t speak, our breathing the only sound as he moves inside me, our eyes locked together. As if neither of us wants to break this moment.
My fingers brush his cheek. Push back his growing hair. “Ti amo.”
“Ti amo.” He wraps his arms around me as he comes, my body twisting beneath his as his face buries in my neck. “Forever,tentazione.”
20 – Domenico
My knuckles smash into the bag hanging from the ceiling, over and over again.
“Looking to break some bones?”
I don’t stop at the quiet question. Instead, I hit harder. “If I wanted your opinion, I would have fucking asked for it.”
I don’t tell him that my sloppy position is intentional. That I’d welcome the pain of broken bones, take it with a smile and a fucking thank you over this damn buzzing in my head that screams at me tofight. To punch and smash until red flows beneath my hands.
Punching the hell out of this bag at least takes the edge off.
I drag the bag to a stop, pausing long enough to snag the water next to me and take a drink. Feeling eyes on me, I turn. “Problem?”
I came down to the gym for some peace and fucking quiet. It’s not even six in the morning yet.
StefanofuckingAsante doesn’t blink an eye at my tone. “I know what it feels like, you know.”
I scoff at him, pulling the wraps from my hands and flexing them. “I don’t want to be psychoanalyzed.”
Cat may have chosen the fucker, but it doesn’t make us friends.
But he doesn’t move. “I know what it is like to be made into something you never wanted to be, Rossi. You want to fight it out, I’ll get on the mat with you.”
