He shrugged. “What she did with the ID is her business. A favor done is still a favor owed. The rest is not my problem.”
“You’re a real devil, you know that?”
“As long as you’ll take me asyourdevil.”
I reached across the console for his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Always and forever, my dearest diary. My soul is yours to keep.”
Epilogue
Seven months later
ThedayFrancescoGiambronedied was nothing special. No crazy storms. No celestial events. No manifestations or shootouts. It was just a day like any other, with gray clouds blotting out the sun and a layer of humidity clinging to my skin. The only special thing about it was its significance. The day of his death marked exactly seven months since Renzo took him prisoner. Seven months to match the seven years Renzo spent in prison because of Giambrone’s schemes.
I held Renzo’s hand as Giambrone took his last breath. The moment it happened, Renzo’s shoulders loosened, his whole body sighing away tension knotted deep within. His white-knuckled grip on his knife relaxed. A drop of blood from the blade’s tip plopped to the tile with a sense of finality. It brought about a copper-scented breath of fresh air. It was over, and Renzo could finally move on. And he seemed to, real quick, when he threw his knife down and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing at all.
“What are you doing? Put me down.”
I pushed my torso up off his back, my hips bouncing against him with every quick stride he made through the interrogation room and the basement cantina. My protests earned me slaps to my bottom, dulled by my baggy cargo pants.
He didn’t walk far. We never even made it to the stairs before he lowered me and twisted me around to face the terracotta tile wall. His arm curled around my waist as his lips skimmed kisses down my neck.
“I need you,” he rasped between heaved breaths. His heartbeat pounded through my back. “Hard.”
I shivered, understanding exactly what he wanted.
“I’m yours. Take me.”
His arm around me squeezed once, and his voice deepened. “Hands over your head, baby.”
I interlocked my fingers on the cool tile and lay my forehead on top of them. Renzo unbuttoned my pants and tugged them down with rough, harsh movements, leaving my butt exposed, except for a tiny thong. Goosebumps pebbled along my thighs from the nippy, late winter chill in the basement. His callused palm stroked my ass cheeks.
“You like being on display for me?” he asked. Every nerve in my lower body fired as his fingers trailed their way close to where I wanted them most.
“Yes,” I murmured.
“That’s because you’re mine.” The first three slaps came fast and hard, warming my cooling skin with their sting. I groaned through it, then leaned into his soothing caress.
“You’re so gorgeous like this, my handprint marking this ass.”
He kneaded my smarting cheeks with one hand, as the other swept over my hip and down between my legs. The moment his fingers brushed my clit and slid between my lips, a ragged moan escaped my throat. My hips rocked into the pressure of his touch, every inch of my skin thrumming for more.
“It wouldn’t matter if someone came down here right now and saw you like this. You’d still be mine. All this wetness is mine. Isn’t that right?”
Three more smacks jolted me forward, the bite of pain feeding my desire, as he pinched my clit. My core flooded for him. His fingers dipped beneath my wet thong, and my pussy lips sucked them in.
“Yes,” I panted. The longer our relationship went on, the more he made me explore my sexual cravings and kinks. A little bondage, some brat taming, breath play, a touch of pain, edging—so far, I loved it all.
“You were made for me. For my cock.” Wrapping a hand around my hair, he yanked my head back and sucked kisses up my throat before nipping my earlobe.
His belt clanked, and his pants rustled. His thick, velvety cock was hot against the sting on my ass. It rubbed over my thighs and glided over my pussy lips, the crown leaving a slick trail behind with every grind of his hips. I pushed my butt out, chasing his length as his fingers toyed my slit and clit. When one of his thumbs pressed on my back hole, I squirmed, becoming nothing but a mewling mess, reaching for a high that was close but not nearly close enough.
“Yes.” I sobbed.
“Only mine. I was your first. I’ll be your last. Say it.” He ripped my thong.
“Only you.”
Without warning, his cock rammed into me in one swift thrust, bucking me up onto my tiptoes. I felt beyond full, impaled on his shaft, completely at his mercy.
