“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracks on it. “I’m sorry for all of it. For leaving without talking to you. For not reading those documents properly before I made decisions. For walking into that building. For—” She stops. “I’m sorry.”
I take her face in my hands.
She looks at me, and for the first time since the night of our wedding, there is nothing guarded in it. No calculation. No walls. Just Anna, exhausted and bruised and finally, completely present.
I pull her up, and she comes without resistance, and I hold her against me, and she lets me, both hands gripping the back of my shirt, her face pressed against my neck.
We stay like that for a long time.
Then she pulls back just enough to look at me, and I look back at her, and she kisses me.
It starts soft—lips brushing like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she presses too hard. I meet her halfway. Let her set the depth. Let her lead. My hands come up to cradle her face, thumbs stroking the unbruised side of her cheek. Careful. Reverent. The bruise on the other side is dark purple in the lamplight. I avoid it completely. Kiss the corner of her mouth instead. The edge of her jaw. The spot beneath her ear where her pulse races.
She sighs against my lips. Small. Shaky. Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt. Tug me closer. I follow.
We kiss like we have all the time in the world now that the danger has passed, our tongues sliding together in lazy, lingering strokes while our breaths mingle and warm each other’s mouths.
Her hands slip under my shirt, palms pressing flat and warm against my sides as she slowly pushes the fabric upward, fingers trailing over ribs and muscle. I raise my arms to help her, and she lifts the shirt over my head. The cotton whispers against my skin before it falls forgotten to the floor beside us.
My turn.
I catch the hem of her shirt. Lift it slowly. Inch by inch. Kissing the newly exposed skin as I go—stomach, ribs, the soft underside of her breasts. She raises her arms. The shirt slips free. I drop it beside mine. Cup her breasts gently. Thumbs brushing nipples until they tighten. She arches into my touch. A quiet moan escapes her.
We undress each other without hurry. Her jeans unbuttoned. Zipper drawn down. I peel them off her legs along with her underwear. Kiss the inside of her knee. The curve of her thigh. She reaches for my belt. Unbuckles it. Pushes my pants down. I step out of them. Then we’re bare. Skin on skin. Heat everywhere.
I lift her. Arms under her thighs. She wraps her legs around my waist. Arms around my neck. I carry her out of the study. The hallway is dark. Silent. Moonlight spills through tall windows in silver stripes across the floor. Our bare feet make almost no sound.
We pause halfway. I press her back gently against the wall. Kiss her throat. Her collarbone. She tilts her head back. Fingers tightening in my hair. I nip softly at the hollow of her throat. Feel her pulse jump under my lips. She shivers. Presses herself closer. Rocks her hips once. Slow. Seeking.
Another few steps. Another pause in the shadowed alcove near the staircase. She kisses me deeply now. Tongue sweeping mine. Hands roaming my shoulders. Back. I cup her ass. Hold her steady while I rock up into her. Just enough friction to make her gasp against my mouth.
We reach the bedroom. I ease the door open with my shoulder. Moonlight floods the room from tall windows. Bathes the bed in soft silver. I carry her inside. Lay her down on the sheets.
My hands trace her thighs. Hips. The dip of her waist. She pulls me down with her. I settle between her legs. Cover her body with mine. Skin to skin. Warmth to warmth.
I kiss her again. Slow. Deep. Then trail my mouth down her neck. Across her collarbone. Lower. Kiss the bruise on her cheekbone with the lightest brush of lips. Barely there. Just enough to say I see it. I hate it. I’m here. She exhales shakily. Fingers threading through my hair.
I move lower. Kiss between her breasts. Take one nipple into my mouth. Tongue swirling. Soft suck. Gentle scrape of teeth. She arches and moans my name. “Luca…”
I switch to the other breast. Same slow attention. Same care. Her hips lift. Seeking. I settle between her thighs. Notch myself at her entrance. Hold her gaze.
Eyes locked. Neither of us looks away.
I push in slowly, and when I’m fully inside, we both still, breathe together. Foreheads touching. I feel her pulse around me.
“You’re here,” I whisper against her lips. “We’re here.”
She nods as tears gather in her eyes.
I start to move. Long. Measured. Deep. Pulling almost all the way out. Sliding back in fully. Letting her feel every slow drag. Every glide. Her walls flutter around me. Grip me tighter with every thrust. Her hands slide into my hair.
I kiss her between strokes. Throat. Jaw. Lips. Whisper against her skin. “I’ve got you.” “You’re safe.” “Stay with me.”
She clings tighter. Legs locking around me. Hips rising to meet every slow thrust. Pleasure builds steadily. Deep inside both of us. Coiling tighter with every measured slide.
Her breath comes in soft pants. “Luca…” Her voice is breathy. Almost surprised. “I’m there…I’m coming…”
She shatters beneath me. Slow. Rolling waves that make her entire body tremble. Walls pulsing around me in rhythmic clenches. Soft cries muffled against my neck. Fingers digging into my shoulders. Holding on as pleasure washes over her.
