27. Georgia
27
GEORGIA
L ightning flashed, and a boom of thunder broke over the house. Hot, wet air swept in from the open balcony. I rolled over in bed, pulling my nightgown off and tossing it away. The humid air was making my skin sticky. I felt feverish. I thought about the stables and wondered if Elio was sleeping out there or in the house.
Since that night a month ago, we’d been inseparable, but only when we were sure we wouldn’t get caught. Elio promised he’d take me away from here, that we’d leave together, but it wasn’t time yet. We barely had any money, no plan… We were right in the fresh bloom of love, and it felt impossible to think about anything else. There was a deep and abiding sense of safety and security. I’d met Elio. Everything else would work out.
I stood and crossed to the window, enjoying the cool, wet air brushing my skin.
I took the flashlight I used for signaling the stable and directed it out into the rainy night. If he was watching, he’d see.
I flashed the light in our usual code and waited. Nothing answered me. Disappointment hit me hard. I wanted to see Elio. I wanted to kiss him. I just wanted to be around him, all the time. Tommaso called it infatuation and told me I’d get over it soon enough, but I didn’t believe him. This was different. A soul meeting its other half. I felt complete when he was near.
I lay back down and turned on my front, trying to cool myself down as much as possible.
I drifted in and out of sleep. My mind wandered over images of what our lives would be like once we left Castel Amaro. Maybe Elio could come to America with me… I had citizenship from my American mother, after all. She was the reason I had an English spelling of my name instead of Italian. Georgia, not Giorgia. I’d been named after the state where my father had met my mother. It was hard to imagine my workaholic father ever being romantic, but I guessed he must have been once.
A shift of cold swept over me, and a few drops of rain. Rain? I only had time to vaguely register it before he touched me.
I didn’t move. I was half asleep and not really sure if it was a dream, but there was a wet hand trailing down my back. I shivered, the sudden chilliness a pleasure all on its own.
Elio was here.
My head was turned toward him already, and I peeked through half-shut eyes. He stood beside the bed, outlined by a flash of lightning from the open balcony behind him. He’d clearly climbed up the outside of the building, seeing as he was soaked.
He stripped his wet T-shirt off and dropped his pants. Seconds later, he was naked, his cock jutting out hard and ready before him. He shifted to the bed and lay beside me, his cool hands wandering over my back and across my waist. I shifted, rolling onto my side, and his palms closed around my breasts. I gasped, the icy feeling echoing through me, quickly followed by the pleasure of his touch. He circled my nipples and then leaned in and captured one in his mouth, sucking and nibbling. I wrapped my arms around his head, cradling it against me as he feasted on my chest.
“Weren’t you sleeping, topolina? I was trying not to disturb you,” he murmured, a wicked gleam in his eye. He leaned up and stared down at me.
“I am sleeping. Don’t you see?” I turned back to my front and got comfy, playing along with his idea.
“Hmm, yes, you look asleep, perfectly innocently unguarded… mine to do what I want with.”
He shifted across my back. He ran his tongue down my spine, and I gasped. He slapped my ass at the sound. The slight sting was intriguing.
“Oh, like that, do you?” He gripped my ass tightly, sliding his fingers down my cleft and feeling how wet I was.
I parted my legs in a very obvious sign of what I wanted.
“My, we are bossy in our sleep.” He chuckled and settled between my legs. Then his body draped over mine and his cock prodded at my ass. He guided it lower, putting the tip to my entrance, his arms braced on either side of my head, keeping his weight off my back.
I stayed still. I played my part, enjoying the game.
He slid inside. I was so wet, I was more than ready for him.
He muttered a curse and glided right in, my muscles slick and desperate for his invasion. I felt incredibly filled by him. He pressed in as deep as he could and then stopped.
I fought the urge to move. I wanted to fuck myself on his cock, but I was supposed to be asleep.
He chuckled, like he knew exactly what I wanted, before he began. Slow and deep, he fucked me from behind, while I lay “sleeping.” It was hot as hell. I had no control over our position, or his pace, or anything. It was freeing, and Elio knew it. He was always telling me to let go more, not to try and control everything. It was a hard habit to break. Right now, though, I had to admit, he was right. Giving control to him was hot.
His hand snaked around the front of me, and he strummed my clit. I had to bite the pillow to smother my moans. My father slept just across the hall. That would be an interesting way to reveal our relationship…
I was going to come. This angle was perfect, deeper than ever, and his hand on my clit was making me embarrassingly wet. A wet sound squelched while he fucked me. With a muffled cry, I came, the orgasm hurtling out of nowhere and slamming into me. Elio swore, my pussy clamping down on him. He stayed right where I needed him as long as possible, then pulled out. His cum splattered across my ass and lower back. I hadn’t managed to get the pill prescribed anywhere yet — well, anywhere my father wouldn’t find out about — so we were trying to be careful. There were a whole lot of flaws in that method, and we were both aware of it, but not enough to stop. His breathing was harsh, and he swayed over me, on his knees, his glistening cock leaking out the last few drops of cum onto my skin.
With a satisfied sigh, he lowered his hand to my wet back, and then he was rubbing the milky fluid into my skin. He massaged my ass and lower back, spreading his cum into my skin like oil.
“I like it when you smell like me, topolina… so you never forget whose you are.”
I woke with a start as I came, just when dream Elio slammed into me for another round. Pleasure flooded through me, undulating waves that seemed to have no end.
I was on my front, sweat gluing my face to the sheet. My pillow was trapped between my legs, and I was humping it. In that dreamlike state, reliving that memory, my needy body had taken over.
I collapsed my pulsing body against the mattress, feeling boneless, relaxed for the first time in over a week… and then I saw him.
Elio was sleeping on a thin floor pad, right beside the bed. He had a pillow and a blanket, but that had been kicked off. He was drenched in sweat; his bare chest glistened with it. He shook his head, a soft murmur leaving him. He was panting.
He was dreaming about something, and it wasn’t something good.
I wriggled to the edge of the bed and took the opportunity to watch him.
What kind of dreams could push a man as merciless and dangerous as Elio to have what appeared to be night terrors?
His head shook back and forth, and his hands clenched into fists. Should I wake him?
His eyes suddenly slammed open, and he stared at the ceiling. His eyes. Green, finally, and just as mesmerizing as ever.
I shot back in the bed and lay still, pretending to be asleep. Had he seen me?
Then there was a rustle. Elio getting up. He cracked his knuckles and drank water in long, desperate swallows. I wanted to peek, but I didn’t dare to.
Elio moved around the room. I could feel when he passed me, even without opening my eyes. He went back and forth and then stopped. I had the feeling that if I opened my eyes, he’d be standing right in front of me. Watching.
I tried to breathe normally, slow and steady, but my heart was beating so fast. It had to be obvious that I was awake, right? He had to know. Seconds passed. Was he just standing there? I felt the heat of his skin on my cheek before he touched me. It was the only reason I could stop myself from flinching with surprise. His finger rubbed gently along my cheekbone. He brushed the hair off my forehead, where it had stuck to my skin. The memory of just coming, fresh off a dirty dream about this man, flooded through me. No, not just a dream. A memory.
Just as abruptly as he’d touched me, he was gone, going toward the table in the window, or least it sounded like that.
A metal scraping sound filled the air, then it fell quiet. After a moment, I got brave enough to crack my eyelids open a sliver.
Elio was sitting at the table with an array of guns set out in front of him. His attention was fixed on them, and he methodically disassembled the weapons and cleaned them. His tan skin glinted under the spotlight over the table. His tattoos were works of art. I could spend days studying the designs.
Giada’s words from earlier replayed in my mind.
He lost his soul overseas.
A terrible foreboding hit my gut. The memory of that night, in my bed, while the storm raged outside, was still close, lingering on the edges of my mind. Could he be the same man who only a few weeks later had run away from me? Abandoned me so thoroughly?
It had never made sense. Never. It had never felt right, but I’d had no choice but to accept it, slowly.
The real burning question was why did he hate me so much, if he’d been the one to abandon me? I felt a yawning pit of darkness stretching before both of us. The past rising to meet us. It looked like we’d have to confront those demons once and for all. There was no escape. No places left to hide.
Elio started to put his guns back together. When he was done, he set everything down and sat back. His eyes rose toward me, and I closed mine quickly.
It was quiet for a long while, and then the chair creaked like he’d moved. I opened my eyes again to see he’d picked up a revolver with an old-fashioned barrel. He stared at it for ages, then spun the chamber.
Is it loaded? Before my mind could go to that dark place, I watched him put the end of the gun to his temple and pull the trigger.
I jumped, clapping a hand over my mouth so I didn’t scream. The click was loud. My heart was in my mouth, and I couldn’t breathe. He sat with the gun still pressed to his temple and then lowered it. The tension seemed to melt from his shoulders. I’d rarely seen him relaxed since he’d stormed back into my life. He was always tense, coiled like a spring, yet tightly controlled. There was no relaxation or spontaneity. There was no room for ease.
The reality of what I’d just witnessed sank through me. Elio stood and switched the light off. He carried newfound calmness through the room as he walked back to the bed on the floor. Words to confront him, to reveal what I’d seen and ask him what the hell he was doing, filled my mind. I had to fight to keep them inside. He lay down, disappearing into the darkness. My words died. I didn’t know what to say to Elio anymore to reach him. He was a fortress unto himself.
Tears came, and for the first time since Tommaso died, they were for someone other than myself. What had the world done to those kids who’d been young and starry-eyed in Castel Amaro?
My pillow wet through while I silently cried myself to sleep.