We take advantage of the quiet, empty room and are deliberate as we help each other out of our clothing. I breathe him in, and it’s Italian leather mixed with salty air. It fills my nostrils as I close my eyes and run my hands through his thick hair. He drops kisses on my neck, and there’s a change in him.
Up till now, he’s always been rough with me, but today, he takes his time. I’m the only thing on his mind as his lips tenderly descend on mine and I raise my head to meet him halfway.
I run my hands over his back and bring them to his chest, raking my fingers through his chest hair and grabbing his nipples. I tug and pinch them until he winces, and he gives me a grin that changes from shock at first to pleasure.
I lick one nipple and then the other, circling them with my damp tongue until they harden. I run my hand down his arm to the bandage where the knife cut him, then I lift it to my lips and kiss it.
The salty air fills the room as tiny beads of perspiration break out across my back and he takes my breast into his mouth. I let a moan escape into the breeze as I arch my back and he glides his fingers into me, as if to ready my pussy for his throbbing cock, but there’s no need.
The dampness between my legs is more than enough for him to enter me. Leaning to one side, he plunges into me and I twist and moan under him, then I hear him gasp as I take all of him as he thrusts deeper and deeper.
Lifting my hips to move with him, I’m no longer a victim but a partner, and he rolls us over so that I’m on top of him. I lean down to lick his neck and my long, straight hair cascades over him like a waterfall, his head sinking deeper into the pillow as I grind my hips over his. I tilt my head back and my mind soars in an ecstasy that is indescribable.
I look down at him as he puts his hands on my hips, moving them back and forth on his hard cock. He’s a perfect lover, knowing just how and where to touch and stroke me to bring about the ultimate pleasure as he hits all the right spots inside me.
The pressure tells me that my orgasm is approaching, but I want him to come with me. I open my eyes and he meets my gaze as we cry out together. Wave after wave of pleasure surges through our bodies, and as he calls out my name, my pussy quivers around him. Afterwards, I slump into his chiseled chest while he’s still hard inside me, but he’s short of breath, so I move off him, and a rush of air pushes between us until I snuggle up to him and he wraps his arm around me.
He pulls me closer, my hair tangled between us and damp around my face, beads of perspiration dripping between my breasts.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The moment is interrupted by an alert on his phone that Riccardo is at the door with brunch.
I pull on lightweight tracksuit pants and a black t-shirt, and Dante finds a pair of jeans and a polo shirt in his luggage. God, he’s handsome in everything. He makes the clothes look good, and everything he does is a confident move, never flustered, but for a moment, his mind clearly has flashed back to the attack.
“You know, I should have had that guy at the house. I said I’d protect you.” His eyes are filled with sadness and disappointment in himself.
“We got this. It all worked out.” I shrug. “Can I open the door?”
“No, I will,” he says, and he moves ahead of me, looks through the eyehole in the thick door, and texts Riccardo. Only when he hears back does he open the door.
Riccardo rolls in a cart with hot food and cold juice and motions for Dante to join him on the balcony, where he pulls out his vape pen and sucks on it profusely.
I take this as a sign that there must be something bad going on with our situation, but in this moment, I don’t care. Instead, I take the opportunity to shove down some hot eggs and coffee. O-M-G, coffee! I was getting a headache, but this will surely cure it. I can’t remember the last time I had caffeine . . . probably yesterday afternoon before we left his mother’s house.
The bed is torn apart from our lovemaking, so after getting my coffee, I pull a chair from the desk to sit on. The guys return and Dante snacks on some Danish—I don’t know how he stays so slim. He gulps coffee and asks if I’m okay, assuring me that he’ll get me anything I want.
I smile. “I’m fine, really.” The truth is, between the commotion of last night, the flight, the sea air, and the most incredible fucking sex of my life, I’m drained. I’m happy just to sit and admire him standing across from me, knowing that he loves me and that I’m wearing his ring. I can’t wait until we are free from this intricate web of survival and are able to simply enjoy that.
“We have men around and we’re trying to locate Conti. I have a plan, but it’s dangerous. Do you want out? I can try to change your name. I can get you out of the country. That might be the safest thing to do.”
“No, I’m safer with you,” I insist, and our eyes meet over our coffee cups as we commit to seeing this through to the bitter end. “I won’t rest until that man is gone. I’m not safe anywhere. He has as many resources as you, maybe more.”
He nods. “Okay then,” he raises his coffee cup, “to the end of all this.”
I raise my cup to his, and we sip.
“What now?” I ask.
“We’re going to Milan, to our penthouse.”
Did he just say ‘our’? Fuck me.
“But he knows it’s yours. It’s your hotel.”
“Exactly,” he says, and he flashes me a smile like a cat who swallowed the cream.