13. Evelyn
Chapter 13
Evelyn
“ T alk to me, farfallina ,” Massimo urged, cuddling me against him in our bed.
“I’m okay,” I promised, crushing my residual fear and horror into a tight ball and shoving it deep into my chest. “The doctor said I’m fine. Barely a scratch on me. You’re the one with bruised ribs.”
He frowned down at me. “Don’t do that with me.”
I blinked at him. “Do what?”
“Lie to us both. You don’t have to pretend to be okay. I don’t want you to hide your feelings in an attempt to spare me from worry. I want to know all of your emotions, even the darker ones. Nothing you say will make me abandon you.”
My throat tightened. How could he see me so clearly? He peered straight into my soul, understanding me in a way I hardly even knew myself.
For years, I’d hidden my more distressing emotions. I’d made myself small because I didn’t want to be difficult. I was afraid people would rebuke me for it like my mother, or worse, that they would abandon me like my father. George had never noticed how I concealed my darker emotions from him to make his life easier. Or maybe he had noticed, but he’d allowed me to diminish myself.
And now he was dead. George had been shot in that basement. He’d tried to save me from torture, but not from death. He’d come to Italy with the intention of seeing me killed so that I couldn’t pose a threat to his corrupt career.
My stomach churned at the memory of his bloody chest, but I didn’t feel sorrow over his death. I wouldn’t mourn the man who’d betrayed me in the worst way.
“You can be vulnerable with me,” Massimo cajoled. “I want you to be yourself when we’re together, even if that means talking about difficult things. You don’t have to shoulder those burdens on your own anymore. Trust me to share them with you.”
My heart swelled with love for him, and I snuggled closer to his hard chest, breathing him in.
“I was so scared,” I admitted on a shaky whisper. “I thought they were going to kill you.”
He stroked my hair. “I was scared too. I’ve never felt fear like that. Rocco hurt you, and I had to watch.” His features hardened to granite. “It will never happen again.”
A light shiver raced through me before I could stop it.
No, it wouldn’t happen again. Because the man who’d killed his parents, Rocco, was dead. Massimo had beaten and strangled him. I’d squeezed my eyes shut tight for most of it, but I’d seen enough of the violence to disturb me.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” he rumbled, his voice rough with regret.
I brushed a reassuring kiss over his taut lips. “You protected me. You saved us both. I will never like the violence, Massimo, but I understand. I’m not afraid of you.”
He blew out a shaky breath. “If I could make sure that you will never feel fear again, I would. But I swear I will do everything in my power to prevent it.”
“I know. I trust you.” I kissed him again, then asked, “How are you feeling? That man, Rocco, he killed your parents, didn’t he? You must’ve hated him for a long time.”
His eyes searched mine, and he was silent for a long moment. I wasn’t sure if he was puzzling through his own complicated feelings or if he was trying to put them into words that wouldn’t upset me. I met his gaze with an open heart, waiting for him to speak his truth. I would accept anything he said, even if it might be disturbing. I accepted all of him, and I would prove it to him every day, just as he’d proven himself to me so many times.
“Yes,” he finally said quietly. “I hated him. I still do. I’m not sure if that hatred will ever fade, but at least I have the peace of knowing he’ll never hurt anyone else. Their deaths have been avenged.” He shook his head. “But I don’t feel any different. They’re still gone. And it will always be my fault.”
I trailed my fingers through his dark curls, careful not to press the tender spot where he’d been hit. He leaned into my touch and closed his eyes briefly, as though he was savoring the tender contact.
“Rocco took them from you,” I said gently. “He’s responsible. You were just a boy in a difficult situation. You have to forgive yourself.”
His eyes flashed with silver fire. “I don’t know if I can.”
He’d carried the weight of responsibility for their deaths for so many years that he didn’t know how to live without it.
I pressed a gentle kiss to his furrowed brow. “You are forgiven.”
It wasn’t in my power to forgive him, but if he heard the words spoken aloud, he might one day say them to himself.
“You protected me today,” I reassured him. “You made sure that he can’t hurt me again. He will never take anyone else’s family away from them. You did what was right. You’re a good man, Massimo.”
His eyes were tight with something like longing. He wanted to believe me.
“I love you,” I vowed. “Nothing will change that.”
His lips met mine in an achingly gentle caress. There was quiet desperation in the kiss, a slight tension lingering around his mouth. I trailed my fingertips along his stubble-roughened jaw, soothing him as I opened for him on a sigh. I welcomed him to claim me with soft flicks of my tongue against his. He groaned, almost a sound of pain, and surrendered to our chemistry.
He grasped my hips and rolled onto his back, pulling me upright so that I straddled him. His deft fingers found the delicate zipper at the back of my dress, and he made quick work of stripping me down to my underwear.
When he jerked his own shirt over his head, I pulled back. A dark bruise marred his left side where his enemies had viciously kicked him.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I murmured, lightly touching my palm to his heart.
“The only thing you can do that will hurt me is to deny me,” he rasped, his flame blue eyes burning into my soul. “I love you, Evelyn.”
My heart skipped a beat, and my breath caught. I’d declared my feelings for him, but I hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming surge of emotion that was elicited by those sweet words dropping from his beautiful lips. Because looking into his shining eyes, I could see into his soul too. The love he offered me was fierce and unconditional. I would never have to prove myself to him. I would never have to earn his affection and approval.
I was enough for him, just as I was.
And he was more than enough for me; he was better than anything I’d ever dared to dream for myself.
Words stuck in my constricted throat, so I worshipped his body with my mouth, dropping hungry, reverent kisses on his jaw, his throat, his chest. I traced the shape of his abs with my tongue, and they rippled beneath me as his hand sank into my hair. He didn’t guide me lower or demand anything of me, but his firm grip anchored me to him.
I unbuckled his belt and quickly freed his cock so that I could taste him. His hard length jutted toward me, and I didn’t hesitate to take him into my mouth. I wrapped my lips around him and welcomed him in one slow slide, suppressing my gag reflex so that I could accommodate all of his impressive length.
He murmured my name like a prayer, and his fingers tightened in my hair, holding me down on his shaft. I softened and stayed where he wanted me, allowing him to control my breath. He had all of me. I gave myself to him willingly, eagerly.
When I began to feel dizzy, he tugged me off of him. My lips grasped at his cockhead, and my tongue swirled around him in regret as he pulled his cock free.
“I want you,” I begged in a breathy whisper.
“You have me, dolcezza . But I’m not finished with you yet. I won’t be for a long time.”
He settled his body over mine and eased into me, his cock stretching me inch by delicious inch. He kissed me long and deep, his tongue thrusting into my mouth to match the rhythm of his cock driving into my pussy. With each domineering stroke, he laid claim to everything that I was and offered me himself in return.
“I love you,” he promised between kisses, over and over again. He branded the promise onto my flesh with tongue and teeth.
We came together, our bodies joined as pure bliss sang through our bound souls.