“You’re testing me,” he breathes, fingers pumping harder now, curling perfectly against the spot that makes my vision blur. “You want to see the real me?”
I bite back a moan, my voice shaky but defiant as I look straight into his eyes.
“Maybe,” I whisper breathlessly, hips rocking against his hand. “I need to know… if the man I fell for is still in there.”
His eyes darken at my words. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, thumb pressing harder on my clit. I bite my lower lip as the sensations drive me near the edge.
“Oh, he’s here,” he growls. “And he’s not hiding anymore. You’re fucking mine now, you understand? No one else touches you. No one else hurts you. And no one else will ever make you cum like this.”
The fierce promise, combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers, tips me over the edge.
I come hard, crying out into his mouth as my walls clamp down around his fingers. My back arches violently, water sloshing everywhere. He doesn’t stop, stroking me through every pulse, drawing it out until I’m shaking and whimpering, tears mixing with the steam on my face.
When the last tremor finally fades, I slump against his arm, chest heaving.
Damiano slowly withdraws his fingers. He brings them to his lips and licks them clean while holding my gaze, eyes still burning with hunger.
He leans in and kisses me again—slower this time, almost tender.
I pull back just enough to look at him, still trying to catch my breath.
This is the same man who used to fuck me senseless, then hold me all night like he was scared I’d disappear. He is supposed to be a bad man. But how can I accept that when all he has ever done for me was save me, over and over again?
The shame burns hot in my chest, but so does the undeniable truth: Even knowing who he is, my body still craves him as it did back then.
And that might just be the death of me.
A loud knock on the bedroom door shatters the moment.
“That must be Gio,” he mutters, his jaw tightening.
He caresses my left cheek before asking, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Can you finish up alone?”
“I’ll be fine,” I whisper.
He wipes his hand on a towel and stands.
“The doctor will tend to your wounds after you’re finished.” He mutters.
“There’s no need. These are nothing.” I shake my head.
“Okay.” He plants another kiss on my lips, then leaves.
When he’s gone, the water suddenly feels too cold against my heated skin. My body is still humming, and my mind is spinning faster than ever.
At least now I know: he’s still the man who can’t resist me.
That’s the only leverage I have—and I intend to use it.
Chapter 15
Damiano
I lean my forehead against the cool wood of the bathroom door. I take a breath and let the silence and the smell of floral soap clear my head. The raw need to finish what we started in that tub burns beneath my skin.
