Page 37 of Devil Among Men

Every gasp gets swallowed by his mouth, every sound I can’t quite hold back, his pace building gradually, deeper with every roll of his hips. I dig my nails into his shoulders, into the muscle of his back, anchoring myself against the slow, building pleasure spiraling tighter with every thrust. His mouth finds my ear, my jaw, murmuring words I only half catch between kisses.

He shifts his weight onto one forearm, freeing his other hand to slide between us, finding the exact spot that makes my hips buck against his instantly. The same unhurried rhythm carries into his fingers, and I feel the tension coiling tighter, sharper, my whole body drawing taut under him.

I come apart with his name breaking on my lips, my back arching hard off the mattress, every muscle in my body clenching around him at once. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, riding me through every wave of it, his own control finally slipping as my release drags him right along with me. His hips stutter, breath catching hard against my throat, and he buries himself deep one final time, groaning low as he finally lets go, shuddering through his own release with his forehead pressed to mine.

For a long moment, neither of us moves, chests heaving together, his weight a welcome pressure against me as we both come back down slowly.

He rolls us gently onto our sides afterward, still tangled together, my leg thrown over his hip, his hand tracing lazy patterns along my spine. Sweat cools slowly against overheated skin, and neither of us moves to break the closeness, both of us content to simply lie here, breathing each other in, no war waiting outside this room tonight to interrupt us.

The ring catches the candlelight still flickering from the terrace outside our window, and I hold my hand up between us, admiring it against the backdrop of his bare chest.

His fingers catch mine, pressing a kiss against my knuckles, right beside the ring, and I feel the promise of it settle warm through my entire body, more permanent than anything either of us has ever said out loud.

We lie still, neither of us in any rush to move, the rest of our lives stretching out ahead of us.

19

RAFAEL

The morning we finally leave the B&B arrives quieter than I expected, sunlight breaking gold across the olive grove one last time as we load the last of our bags into two waiting cars. I stand in the doorway for a moment longer than necessary, taking in the faded blue shutters and the crooked sign.

Concetta cries harder than any of us expected, pulling each of us into a hug on the gravel drive and muttering blessings in rapid Italian.

“You’ll visit,” she says to Portia, gripping her hands tight.

“I promise.” Portia laughs, wiping at her own eyes despite herself. “You basically saved our lives twice over. We’re not disappearing on you.”

The bags are loaded, the cars idling in the drive, and for a second none of us seem ready to actually leave this place that sheltered us through the worst months of our lives.

Jayla hugs Portia first, both of them whispering sisterly things to each other. Adagio waits nearby, bag slung over his shoulder, watching Jayla with the same kind of fondness I have for Portia.

Maurizio’s further apart from the group, arms crossed as the goodbyes are traded. I catch Jayla’s eyes drift toward him more than once, an unresolved weight still sitting between them.

“Before we go,” Jayla says finally, crossing the drive toward him, “I need to say thank you. For real this time.”

Maurizio straightens, obviously thrown off guard.

“You saved my life. More than once,” she explains. “I don’t think I ever got a chance to tell you how much it means to me that you’ve protected me so much.”

“You don’t owe me thanks for doing my job.”

“Maybe not. But I’m doing it anyway.” She slides her arms around him in an embrace that has her on tippy toes. “You’ve become one of my closest friends through this, Maurizio. I hope you know that.”

“Even if you chose him.” Maurizio glances toward Adagio, a complicated mix of resignation and respect crossing his expression. “I know, Jayla. I’ve known for a while now.”

“I’m sorry if that hurt you.”

“Don’t apologize for choosing what you really want. I care about you enough to want you happy, even if that happiness doesn’t include me.”

Adagio steps closer, extending a hand toward Maurizio, some old tension finally easing between them. “For what it’s worth, fratello, I know how much you’ve done for her. I won’t forget it.”

Maurizio shakes his hand. “Take care of her. Or you’ll answer to me.”

“That would be a fight Rafael would love to see, right, boss?”

He grins over at me as the group disperses. Adagio and Jayla head off for a separate car for the traveling they’re going to do together.

Me, Portia, and Maurizio go off toward the car we’ll be taking to our new villa. The first real home Portia and I will share together.