That was how much I loved the bastard.
I feared his death more than I ever even thought about mine. This was what his death would do to me. The separation. I understood what papà had meant when he said we’d see him as a whole man or not at all. Because the piece of papà that made him whole was mamma, while mine was Saverio Macchiavello.
My entire life, maybe even my death, was tangled up in his. There was no severing the connection. But I’d be damned if I said yes to it, dooming him in the process.
My last name dictated my life more than I did. And whenever the world decided to come at me, like it had already, I refused to allow his life to end because of mine. Because mine would end with his, anyway.
A gasp left my mouth when his mouth came against mine. He swallowed it down like it was an elixir to life. His tongue teased mine. His hand slid up my arm, and he pressed my wrists into the wall even harder.
He took a step back and a whimper came from my mouth, sounding so tortured that his eyes snapped to mine.
Too far. He’s too far. I can’t touch him that far.
The thought made me almost hyperventilate. Even though we’d spent a lot of time apart over the years, I always knew he was there. We talked every day. Even if it was only a four-word text.Two from him and two from me.
You there?
I’m here.
His eyes narrowed, and as he took a step closer, they relaxed. I looked away, hoping he didn’t see the truth. Hoping he wouldn’t truly understand how big my fear of losing him was. It made me feel too vulnerable. Like admitting it, even to him, would make it happen.
“Tell me you want me,” he said in Italian. “Tell me you want me to fuck you until your heart understands who you are to me. No one else. You are the only one. Give in to me, Mia.”
He stepped close enough, and my legs lifted and wrapped around his waist. They were strong, and I locked them into place. He released my hands from the binds, but to prove a point, I kept them above my head, using the restraints as leverage to hold on.
His hand came under the gown, pushing my underwear down to my knees. He pulled himself out and entered me in a thrust that made me cry out. My dress shielded us. It seemed like he was keeping it in place on purpose. To hide me.
Even though we both wore masks, our eyes connected, and they didn’t break. He fucked me so hard, but so slow, that sweat started to drip down my body, and my mind felt like it was lost in a purple haze. I was floating in ecstasy. I’d never felt like this before. Like every touch, every kiss seared my skin like a flame to wax.
“Make that sound for me again,” he said, his voice almost lost in the pulse of the music.
I did, not able to help myself. His skin on mine…felt like… “Mmm,” I moaned long and hard. His hands seemed to burn against my skin, but in a way that made me melt into his touch, and he tipped my hips up some.
I hissed when he went so deep that he hit something that hurt while sending a rush of straight pleasure through my bloodstream.
“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice gruff. “Don’t close your eyes.”
I could barely keep them open, but I did. His were hooded, like he was loaded on the most potent drug.
“This,” he said, looking down. I watched as he pulled out in slow motion, and then slipped back in, stretching me to the point that I hissed out another breath. The smell of our sex was thick in the air, even over the perfumed oil that lingered. “This is mine.You.You’re all fucking mine. Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I said, my voice sounding drugged.
“Tell me who I belong to.”
“Me,” I said on a harsh breath. My body was starting to give in.
“No one else. This. You. Me. Us.” He slowly pulled out of me again, coming back with a jolt that shook my thighs. He groaned, long and deep. “This is the end game.”
His words did me in. I came so hard around him that it felt like my heart stopped and my entire body convulsed. He spilled himself inside of me with an animalistic groan.
His forehead came against mine, and after we breathed in and out for a minute, he took a step back. I fell into his arms and sank my nails into his back. A sob was stuck in my throat.
Touching him felt even better than what we’d just done. I could…breathe.
He tried to put some space between us. I refused to let him. He tried to lift my chin, but I turned my face away from his.
A knock came at the door.
