She lifted her gaze to meet mine. The look was part challenge, part dare. “Show me.”
A little bit closer, and our lips almost touched. Her exhale was warm on my face.
I jerked back violently. My body swayed as I struggled to restrain myself. Pulse racing in desperate bursts, I took a step backward. And then another. Each was agonizingly slow.
“Not here. Not now. Not like this.”
Amanda’s voice cracked. “Enzo.”
“If I touch you…I won’t stop. So, I’ll go. You can have the loft to yourself. I’ll only come back on your terms.” With that, I yanked open the door. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in, temporarily blinding me. “But, Amanda? Nothing happens to you. Not while there is breath in my body.”
I slammed it closed behind me.
Cristiano could bring her home. She would return to an empty apartment. I wouldn’t haunt her anymore with the ghosts of our love. Kissing her would have crossed a line. One I vowed not to break. She needed to come to me of her own free will.
It wasn’t obvious to her yet. I was the one still in prison, and I would happily be trapped if only she chose to keep me.
Chapter 40 –Amanda
Stupid,stupidme! Instead of keeping my cool, reasoning through the situation, I just had to blow up. In the pause that followed Vincenzo leaving the restaurant, I calmed down enough to realize that I was taking my pain, my frustration, my own self-doubt out on another human being who wasn’t responsible for the collapse of my life.
I was in the wrong.
The apartment wasn’t empty when I returned. Nicole offered to come upstairs with me, but I wasn’t in the mood to watch a movie and told her I would be fine. I thought I wanted to be alone. When I heard the shower running, that resolve felt like a lie.
I wanted to be with Vincenzo. I needed to fix what I broke.
Why, WHY did I have to be stubborn and stupid?
There was one way I knew that would make it up. I could show him that I wasn’t here to fight him while still planning to keep my independence. A truce. We needed that right now.
Shedding one of my last untorn outfits, I tiptoed on bare feet to the bathroom. The cats meowed loudly at the closed bedroom door, but they didn’t need to see what I was about to do to their father.
Pulling back the curtain, I stepped into the shower stall. “I’m not here to talk.”
Vincenzo was bowed under the stream of water. Soap sluiced off his body. His hard gaze was wary, but the moment I fell to my knees, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes softened.
Good lord, even his thighs were covered with ink. I peppered kisses across the designs, taking my time to memorize them as his cock swelled. His hard, muscular body was a work of living art. It would be amazing to draw him, to immortalize this demi-god in some medium.
Since I was artistically challenged, maybe I would find a nice camera and take boudoir pictures.
If only we can have a future together….
His cock strained, bobbing impatiently as I ran my tongue over the black viper that trailed up his hip. The sound of his hard breathing filled the shower.
I showed him mercy.
Grasping his erection, I pulled the tip of his cock between my lips. Vincenzo groaned in pleasure. Heat tingled between my legs, but I didn’t reach between them for relief. This was about establishing a truce. Establishing trust in the twilight of our harsh conversation.
Vincenzo braced his hands on the tiled walls. Those scarred knuckles turned white where they weren’t stained with art. I didn’t have a single tattoo—I’d been too busy. Or so I’d always said. In truth, I couldn’t decide what I wanted. Now, pulling his cock between my lips, a seed of jealousy turned green in my heart. Some unknown artist—probably several—had seen his body in the last ten years. They’d enjoyed the sight while creating a visual masterpiece.
Well…he was here now. In this moment with me.
I relaxed my jaw and pulled him deeper into my mouth. With one hand braced on his thigh, I cupped his balls. They were heavy, drawn up tight. With a moan, I swallowed his length.
“Fiore,” he breathed.
The name was a prayer.
