Page 69 of Ferrara

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He smiles triumphantly and then pulls out and pulls me off the counter and pushes me down to my knees. “Open,” he commands.

I do as I’m told and he slides his cock down my throat and I feel it thicken and shudder.

What the hell?

He comes in a rush and I gag as I struggle to take him all, hell on a cracker. That wasn’t the ending I was expecting.

Dirty bastard.

He smiles down at me and smooths my hair as he pants, trying to catch his breath.

“Did you bring clean towels?” he asks.

“Huh?” I stare up at him, a mouth full of come, fucked to oblivion and totally confused.

“Aren’t you from room service?” He raises his eyebrow.

I smile. Unbelievable.

He pulls me to my feet and kisses my collarbone, then he turns me away from him and slaps my behind. “Get in the shower, you smell like sex.” He glances down at himself. “Your pink lipstick looks good on my dick.”

“Yeah well.” I shrug casually as I turn the shower on. “Your dick looks good in everything.”

* * *

“Let’s dance,” Carlo says with an outstretched hand. Anna smiles lovingly up at him and stands. “Don’t mind if I do.”

I watch as he leads her to the dance floor and takes her in his arms, they chat and laugh and I can’t help but feel a little jealous.

Unlike us, they can dance with each other. They can hold hands, and if they so choose to, fall in love.

I look back over the table to Giuliano, he gives me a sad smile as if reading my mind.

My eyes roam over all the people on the dance floor, every single couple here are free to love.

We are not.

Our feelings are forbidden. “Can we go?” I ask.

Giuliano nods. “Yep.” He stands and, unable to hold my hand, pulls my chair out. We walk to the door together, but alone. No touching, no togetherness.

Just cold reality.

We get into the back of the car and once again I’m reminded of what can never be.

Giuliano sits on one side of the back seat, and I sit on the other. Both staring out the separate windows.

Tomorrow we part ways forever.

And I knew that this was coming and I told myself I was prepared for it. But how do you prepare for the end of the world?

He can never be mine, and just for a moment…I forgot.

The car pulls into the hotel and our driver opens the car door. “Have a nice night,” he says with a kind nod.

“Thank you.”

Giuliano and I walk silently through the foyer and get into the elevator, we both stare at the closed doors as we travel up to our floor.

Like flood waters rising, I can feel it coming.

The end is near.

The doors open and we walk silently down the corridor until we get to my door.

I know this is our last night together, but I really don’t know if I can finish what I started.

He can tell too.

His eyes search mine. “Are you going to ask me in?”

I stare at him standing there, all handsome and gorgeous. Willing and wanting…and then there’s me, feeling weaker than water.

“I didn’t get to dance with my girl yet,” he says softly.

He wants to dance with me?

I get a lump in my throat and I nod, I turn and open the door and he follows me in. He takes out his phone. “What do you want to dance to?” he asks hopefully as he desperately tries to save the night.

“Something romantic.” I smile, forgetting the worries of the world just for a moment.

“Alright.” He opens Spotify and says the words out loud as he types. “Romantic songs.” He puts his phone down on the table and holds his hand out to me in a grand gesture. “Are you ready to be romanced, my love?”

I giggle and he takes me into his arms.

Silence.

He glances over to his phone. “Play, fucker.”

I giggle again and the music starts.

If I, should stay,

I would only be in your way.

My heart drops.

Oh no…not this song, anything but this song.

We hold each other tight as we dance to “I Will Always Love You,” by Whitney Houston.

So romantic and heartbreaking. Never a truer song has ever been sung.

To the melancholy tune, I kiss, I dance and I love him goodbye.

Giuliano

The plane touches down in Milan, and I close my eyes. The flight has been long, Francesca stared out the window while I stared at her.

In twenty minutes, this very plane leaves again to take her and Anna back to Paris. We said our goodbyes this morning, knowing that it would be the last time we would be alone. The doors are disengaged and our guards exit the plane, everyone begins to fuss around as they retrieve their luggage from the overhead.

She’s leaving.

The walls start to close in as I stare at her.


Tags: T.L. Swan Crime