Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Matteo, please,” I beg.
“You want to come?” he asks, his fingers biting into my flesh as he fucks me with abandon. “Do you think you deserve to come?” he hisses. “You made me fall in love with you, and then you almost took it away.”
I’m so close, but every time I’m about to fall off the edge, he changes positions, and my climax disappears before I can hold on to it.
“Why should I let you come, Little Russo?” he bites out over the sound of our heated flesh smacking against each other. “Don’t you understand that I can’t live without you?”
“Matteo,” I cry out, so close to coming that my stomach is cramping and the area between my legs is pulsing. “Please, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”
I know, realistically, I can’t make promises like that, but in the moment, I tell myself I can because I’d do anything for Matteo to never look at me the way he did when he told me he wanted to send me away to keep me safe. To never hear the heartache in his voice when he told me he wanted to hold me and never let me go.
Matteo doesn’t respond with words, but his thrusts turn purposeful, hitting the sweet spot deep within me, and within minutes, I’m screaming out his name as he fills me with his cum.
I’m about to collapse onto the bench, my legs unable to hold me up any longer, when he pulls out and lifts me into his arms, cradling me close.
He carries me to the bathroom, where he sets me on the vanity and steps between my legs.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my lips. “And I can’t live in this world without you.”
I swallow down the lump of emotion that’s lodged in my throat. “I love you, Matteo,” I choke out. “And I need you to know that no matter what the future holds, I would never willingly leave you.”
“Sweetness, you have to wake up.”
I roll over and groan, sure that I’m dreaming because there’s no way Matteo would be waking me up while it’s still dark outside, especially since we spent most of the night into the early morning reminding each other—and ourselves—that even though what had happened was a close call, I was still here and alive and I wasn’t going anywhere unless I was forced to.
“Ten more minutes,” I whine, shoving my head under the pillow.
It’s Sunday, so it’s not like I need to get up for work. And when he has stuff to do, he never wakes me up.
“We don’t have ten minutes,” he says, lifting the pillow off my head and brushing my hair out of my face. “The plane is scheduled to leave in an hour, so unless you want to go to the airport in your pajamas and without showering, you need to get up now.”
The airport …
I pop my eyes open. “The airport?”
He chuckles. “Italy, remember?”
I sit up and wipe the sleep from my eyes. “We’re still going?”
I assumed, after everything that happened, he’d need to stay close to home to figure out who was coming after his family.
“All the bullshit will still be here when we get back,” he says. “But right now, I’m taking my girlfriend to Italy.”
I choke out a sob, unsure why the hell I’m suddenly so emotional, and nod. “Okay, let’s go to Italy.” I throw my arms around his neck and kiss the corner of his jaw, which has accumulated a good amount of stubble. “I can’t wait to see Italy with you.”
The plane is the one the Antonovs share with my family, so I’ve been on it before, and the moment we step inside, memories of trips with my parents hit me hard. The last time I was on it was for our ski trip to Wintergreen, a ski resort in Virginia. The sad reality that I’ll never take another trip with my parents causes me to wrap my arms around my middle and sniffle back a sob.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Matteo asks, picking up on my mood.
“This is the plane we took to go skiing the Christmas before my parents were killed.”
Matteo nods in understanding and encircles his arms around me.
“They were good people. Your dad was more of a father to me than my own was. And your mom made the best damn desserts.” He kisses my forehead. “Like you.”
Despite my heart aching in my chest from my missing my parents, I smile up at Matteo, thankful that I have him. He doesn’t replace them, but his love fills a huge part of the hole their deaths left in my heart.
“Maybe we can go skiing one day?” I mention, hoping maybe we can continue my family’s tradition of going to Wintergreen every winter. I haven’t brought it up to Lorenzo yet, but—