I suckle her nipple into my mouth, biting down on the hardened bud, causing her to cry out my name over and over again as her walls grip my dick, sending pleasure rocketing through me like a violent storm. And that’s when I finally allow myself to mark her. My release shoots into her, deep into her body where it was meant to be.
For a moment, I still, watching her tremble and shiver beneath me. Her body is so slight compared to my broad frame, and when those wide blues meet my stare, they’re shimmering with emotion.
“I love you, Lance,” she tells me, her lips swollen from our earlier kiss, and I claim her mouth once more.
Giuliana
He pulls away from me, his mouth in a beautiful grin. “I love you too, baby girl,” he pronounces in a rough, husky tone that makes my thighs tighten around him. I wish we could stay here forever, but I know it’s impossible.
Lance gently pulls his softening cock from me, and I can’t help but wince at the pain that shoots through me. I feel empty without him inside me, and I know he’s ruined me in the best possible way.
Glancing down, I see the stained red on the sheets below me, and when I look at Lance, his cock is painted with my virtue. There’s a satisfied smirk on his lips, and I can’t help but offer him a shy smile.
“Stay there. I’ll grab a towel.” His order comes out as a balm to my heart. With a limp, he moves through the room and disappears into the en suite. I scoot up slowly, waiting on the man who’s now got every part of me in his hands.
When Lance returns, I notice the stitches across his torso are cleaned, and he’s carrying a warm, wet towel, which he uses to gently wipe me clean. The evidence of what we did hangs in the air surrounding us. The room is warm with love and heated with passion and desire.
He winces when he settles on the mattress beside me, and I note how his skin is taut where the stitches adorn his thigh.
“Are you okay?” I trail my fingers over the black thread.
“Told you, baby girl, I’ll always be okay with you in my arms.” I know he’s playing off his pain, so I don’t ask again.
“Do you think my father will find us here?” My question is whispered as I trace the ink on his shoulder, not wanting to admit that I want to hide away here forever, but he has a job to do. Even though he can’t do much now, well . . . He probably shouldn’t do a job, but I know Arthur will want to see him.
“I’m heading back tomorrow. Once I meet with him, explain what I want, he’ll have to grant my request to make a choice after completing one final job,” Lance admits.
“You’re going to leave the Cavalieri?” My voice filled with shock. Of all the time I’d known Lance, I never thought he would ever leave the organization. It’s where he grew up, where he learned to be who he is today. My father was a mentor to him.
“Not exactly,” he tells me. When he meets my gaze, I see it. His decision burns in his dark eyes, and I realize he’s not leaving the organization at all. He’s leaving me.
“I’m not living without you,” I tell him adamantly. The thought alone causes my body to tremble with sadness. My heart feels as if it’s about to still in my chest.
“Giuliana, I love you. I’ve always loved you, but my life is filled with violence,” he insists gently, but the words hit me in the chest. It’s brutal, it’s painful, and my lungs struggle to pull in air.
I’m shaking my head as tears trickle over my lashes and down my cheeks. My mouth falls open, but no words come out.
“Listen to me.” His command is harsh. His hands grip my face, holding me steady so I can’t move. “Baby girl, you need to live in the light. I can only offer you darkness.”
“I don’t want light without you, Lance.” Even as I voice the words, I can see his mind is made up. He’s stubborn. I’ve known it since the moment he kissed me. I want a life with him, and I thought he wanted the same. “I’ve grown up with violence all around me. My life has never been normal. I mean, my father is Arthur Calthorpe, for god’s sake.”
Shaking my head, I blink as more tears fall, but I can’t look at him. I don’t want to let him see the pain in my chest right now. I don’t want him to witness my heart shattering as he voices the words.
He leans in closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath on me, and usually, it would soothe me, but it only serves to burn me. “That’s all the more reason for me to let you go. Let you have a normal adulthood.” His voice is low, commanding, as if I’m a petulant child and he’s the one who’s in charge of me. But I’m tired of being shoved around. I’m exhausted. And the memory of me giving myself to him scalds me.
“So, you take my fucking virginity and then throw me to the side?” I spit out angrily. Shoving him away, I move backward, needing space between us. “Was I a fucking prize for you just to piss my father off?” My venomous words cause him to wince, or perhaps it’s how hard I pushed him, but I don’t care. Not right now. “Are you happy now? That you took the one thing I saved for you? That’s all you wanted; wasn’t it?” My tiny fists slam into the mattress, and I’m on my feet pulling up the shorts I was wearing earlier.
“Listen to me, baby girl—”
“No, I’m not your fucking baby girl, Lance. I’m a grown woman, and I’m sick of men playing with my life, with my heart. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Thankfully, because of his injury, I move faster than him. I know if he weren't hurt, I’d be on the bed pinned down by now. Lance is a trained killer, but his wounds slow him down.
It doesn’t take long, and I’m dressed. Heading into the living room, I can hear Lance struggling to stand, but right now, I don’t care. Anger takes hold of me, and I wish he would just leave me alone.
Slipping my feet into a pair of sneakers, I realize I have nothing to take with me. Everything was left at Sergio’s house. Making my way to the door, I pull it open and step out into the dusky evening. I’m not sure where I’m going, but the house isn’t far from town, so I’ll walk there if I have to.
There’s only one option left — to call my father and ask him for forgiveness, to go back to that godforsaken convent. Or perhaps he’ll sell me off to another Cartel leader, just to prove his point — that he owns me.