Her fingers wrapped around me, and I inhaled sharply.
"Okay?" she asked.
"More than okay."
"Good. Because I've been thinking about this for days."
The hospital room was a sterile cage, its walls closing in with every beep of the heart monitor. The scent of disinfectant clung to the air, a stark contrast to the warmth of Paola’s body as she leaned over me.
Her touch was electric, her fingers firm yet tender as they moved over my chest, tracing the edges of the bandages that wrapped around my torso.
The world outside—the violence, the betrayal, the weight of everything I’d done—faded into the background. All that existed was her, the heat of her skin, the intent in her green eyes.
“Relax,” she whispered, her breath warm against my collarbone. “Let me take care of you.”
Her words were a balm, a promise I wasn’t sure I deserved. But I let her, my body heavy and aching, my mind a tangled mess of guilt and desire. Her hands were deliberate, mindful of my injuries, her touch a careful dance between strength and gentleness.
She kissed the edge of the bandages, her lips soft, a silent apology for the pain I’d endured.
Her mouth trailed downward, her hair falling around her face in a curtain of dark curls, brushing my thighs as she moved.
My breath hitched as her lips found me, her tongue skilled and hungry. She took me in slowly, her lips wrapping around me with a pressure that was both firm and worshipful.
Every nerve in my body screamed to life, the pleasure sharp and raw, cutting through the pain and the fear. I was a man used to control, to dominance, but in that moment, I was at her mercy, and it was intoxicating.
“Paola—” I managed, my voice hoarse, but she silenced me with a hum, her hand cradling me as she moved with a rhythm that was both urgent and patient.
Her hair brushed my thighs, her mouth relentless, her touch a mix of tenderness and hunger.
I wanted to touch her, to pull her close, but my body wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I gripped the edges of the bed, my knuckles white, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. “So strong. So mine.”
Her words sent a shiver through me, a reminder of the power dynamics that had always defined us. I was the Don, the man who commanded respect and fear, but in that moment, I was hers. The vulnerability of it—of being wanted despite my weaknesses—was both terrifying and exhilarating.
I was close, too close, but I didn’t want it to end. “Paola, wait—”
She ignored me, her pace quickening, her lips tighter now, her tongue relentless.
The pleasure built, a crescendo I couldn’t hold back, and I let out a sharp gasp as I came, my body arching as much as it could, my release hot and urgent in her mouth. She swallowed me down, her hand milking me gently until I was spent, my breath ragged, heart pounding.
When she finally pulled away her lips glistened, her eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re incredible,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss me, my taste on her lips, her body pressing against mine.
I pulled her close, my hands tangling in her hair, my mouth devouring hers. She tasted like life, like survival, like us.
“Your turn,” I rasped, my hands moving to her sweater, pulling it off slowly, reveling in the sight of her slender body, the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist.
She shivered as my fingers brushed her skin, her nipples tight and aching, a silent plea for more. I kissed her collarbone, my lips trailing down her neck, my breath warm against her skin. "Come here," I murmured, guiding her carefully. "Straddle my face. Let me taste you."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't hesitate. She finished removing her jeans, then positioned herself carefully over me, mindful of my injuries, her knees on either side of my head.
"Are you sure? Your ribs—"
"I'm sure. I need this. Need you."
She lowered herself slowly, her hands bracing against the headboard for balance. The first taste of her made me groan—hot, wet, perfect. Her hands trembled as she gripped the headboard tighter, her body exposed and vulnerable above me.
Her breath caught as my tongue found her, her thighs trembling on either side of my face.
