“I can’t promise?—”
“Then you can’t be his father.” I know it’s not entirely rational. Austin is already his son whether Alessio’s in his life or not. “I’ve kept him safe for six years without you. I’ll keep doing it with or without your help.”
He closes his eyes briefly, looking suddenly exhausted. “The danger exists whether I’m in his life or not. Now that I know he’s mine, I can’t pretend he doesn’t exist. Eventually someone will figure it out, and if my enemies find out about him...” He trails off, but the implication hangs heavy between us. “I can protect you both better if I’m close.”
The fear that shoots through me is instant and nauseating. “Are you telling me those bikers would hurt a six-year-old?”
“I’m telling you there’s not much these men won’t do.” He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it because I need something to anchor me. “But I won’t let anything happen to either of you. Trust me.”
The idea of those thugs even knowing Austin’s name makes me sick. “I won’t let your enemies make him a target.”
His thumb traces circles on my palm, the touch grounding me. “I know this is a lot to ask?—”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
“I know. But I’m asking you to try. Just enough to let me protect you both.”
I should pull away. Should demand more specifics, more guarantees, more everything. But I’m tired of being the only one standing guard. Tired of carrying all of this alone.
“This doesn’t mean we’re together,” I say, needing to establish at least one boundary. “Whatever this thing is between us, it’s separate from you being Austin’s father.”
“Understood.” But the way he’s looking at me says he’s hoping for more.
“I mean it, Alessio. We figure out the parent thing first. The rest...” I trail off because I don’t know what the rest even is.
“We’ll figure it out as we go,” he says softly.
Before I can argue, he tugs me closer and kisses me. Not the desperate, hungry kisses we’ve shared before. This one is gentle, almost tender, like he’s trying to tell me something he doesn’t have words for.
26
ALESSIO
Nina’s roomis black as pitch when we hit the mattress.
Shame, because fuck, I like looking at her. But maybe it’s better this way. When you can’t see, everything else gets amplified. Her fingers skate over my pecs, nails grazing just enough to raise goosebumps. Every soft sound she makes fills the dark room, small gasps echoing like secrets only I get to hear.
It’s intoxicating.
I slide my hand beneath her nightgown, find her panties, and drag them slowly down her long legs. She shivers, her skin pebbling under my palm, every muscle tensing like she’s strung on a wire.
I press a finger into her slick heat, the wet clench of her body gripping me tight. She tenses, fluttering around me, thighs quivering against my wrist. When she’s trembling on the edge, I pull back and watch her gasp for air. Then I bring my finger to my mouth and taste her. Sweet and dangerous, like the woman herself.
“Christ, you taste like sin,” I mutter, half laughing, half wrecked.
The nightgown rides up as I settle between her thighs. The condom snaps into place and I press forward, sliding into her inch by inch. She stretches around me, greedy and unrelenting, like she wants to brand me from the inside out.
“I love this pussy, Temptress,” I growl, rocking into her. The drag of her slick walls grips me on every stroke, her breathy whimpers vibrating against my mouth. She muffles a cry, trying to be quiet. God, that’s even hotter—the effort she makes to hold back when she can’t.
I kiss her while I fuck her slow. Not my usual style. I’ve always been a rough, furious bastard in bed. Get them off, get myself off, done.
But with Nina? This is different. Deeper. Like I’m not just fucking her body, I’m reaching for something I shouldn’t want.
Emotion. Yeah, I don’t bring that into sex. Ever. But with her? The feelings creep in anyway.
I shove it aside and slide a hand between us, rubbing her clit. She jolts, gasping as her cunt strangles me, every pulse squeezing tighter. Her nails rake down my biceps, leaving stinging trails, and her whole body bows like she’s about to snap.
“That’s it,” I whisper against her ear. “Come for me.”
