Chapter 28
GIANNA
I’ve been absolutely unable to sit still all day.
Both my sisters have been asking me what’s going on with intensifying urgency, but I can’t tell them.
This is so far outside of what we’re allowed to do that I can’t drag them down with me.
Just knowing about it and keeping it a secret would make them culpable right along with me.
Plus, Chiara is already much too set against the traditions of our family and has refused to participate in anything.
Lidia is just too good. I can’t lead them astray. I can’t set this bad example for them.
Because whatever Matteo and I started must remain a secret forever. Even if my father gives his blessing, which he might never do, the kissing must always remain a secret.
So as much as I want to tell my sisters, and the whole world, about the magic we created, I can’t.
The sun has long since set and I’m so high up in this skyscraper that sometimes I can see stars out my bedroom window. Tonight is one of those nights. Their cool white light calms me the way nothing has been able to all day.
The apartment is quiet, both Chiara and Lidia are already asleep. I cracked open the door in anticipation of my promised visit and cool air is seeping in from the hallway, brushing against my overheated skin.
I wore a pale gold silk nightgown and matching kimono. No shoes, so little makeup I might as well not be wearing any and just a splash of my favorite perfume—the way I’ve seen women in movies do when getting ready to be with the man they love. Or the husband on their wedding night.
Weird as it is, that’s what this feels like. Exactly like the kind of wedding night I never thought I’d get. One where I am willing and in love, instead of being forced to spend forever with a man I didn’t choose.
Every creak from the rest of the apartment sends my heart fluttering and has me turning to the door in anticipation. But so far, none of them have materialized into Matteo walking in through my door.
It’s late. Past two in the morning. Maybe he’s not coming.
I haven’t let myself think that at all, because every time I do, a cold so complete and devastating washes over me that I can hardly breathe.
Kind of like the cold washing over my bare legs now.
It’s coming from the hallway beyond my bedroom door.
I hear no footsteps, no creaking, no breathing.
And yet there he is, coming into my room, materializing out of the darkness in the hallway to stand before me bathed in light all his own. Like magic. Like a dream.
But this is no dream.
I walk to him and his hands are strong and warm as he wraps them around my low back and pulls me closer, the rough fabric of his pants scratching my bare legs, his taut, hard, muscular body against mine waking sensations in me that I have no name for. I just know I want to feel them all the time.
“Were you waiting for me?” he asks in a hoarse whisper that tickles my very soul and has my skin erupting in goosebumps.
“Yes,” I breathe, leaning my head back in expectation of the kiss I know must come now.
“You should be more careful,” he says instead of kissing me. “You shouldn’t just trust the first guy who shows you some affection. It’s dangerous.”
Something in his voice sends my heart pounding, hammering in my chest with equal parts excitement and fear.
“Are you dangerous?” I ask, trying to sound flippant, but it comes out too serious.
The grip of his arms around my waist tightens.
“You’re not,” I answer my own question. “You saved my life twice already. Three times, if we count the kisses.”
He smirks. But the darkness in the room seems permanently attached to him, like it’s a part of him. Or he’s a part of it.
“Are we counting the kisses?”
“Most definitely we are,” I say with a wide smile on my face. “And I’d like another, please.”
He doesn’t wait this time, doesn’t issue any more pointless warnings, just touches his lips to mine.
And then I’m falling, held only by his arms and the magic of the kiss as I free fall into blissful soft nothingness, where only our closeness matters. Where only this magic we found in each other matters.
I’m transported to another world. One where there are no tall towers to keep me locked in. No boredom. No sadness and pain. No curses.
His lips are the perfect texture, soft yet hard, tasty like the best things in the world, strong like promises.
His hands travel up and down my back, cupping my hair, caressing my neck.
His thumb over the thumping of my heartbeat in my neck sends my free fall into overdrive and makes my heart race even faster.
I wish he’d touch all of me, not just my hair, my back and neck. My breasts are yearning to feel his strong hands. My butt and my legs too. I’m about to explode with the desire his lips and his tongue are waking in me.
My head is spinning as he pulls away from the kiss. I lean forward, chasing his lips, because I have not had enough. But he stops me by firming up the hand he has wrapped around my throat. The sudden jolt of panic transforms into an even wilder desire inside me.
“So eager,” he says. “Slow down.”
“I don’t know how,” I whisper and it’s the absolute truth. Now that I finally have a taste of what I’ve been missing, I need all of it. Right now. No delay.
“I’ll show you,” he says and kisses me again. Slower this time. So sensually my whirling mind and the roiling desire rushing though my veins actually speed up and spin out, unable to take the change of pace.
But each time I try to force more, try for a deeper kiss, he pulls back, his hand squeezing my throat and his eyes admonishing me. So I stop trying to force it. I just surrender. Let him lead this slow dance.
And just like that, my urgency for more fades, letting the desire expand out, my need for him no longer a white-hot, pulsing thing, but a slow flowing river of bliss, every little wave carrying more pleasure than I’ve ever felt.
He guides me to the bed, uses his hand around my neck to make me sit down. And my chest is exploding in happy anticipation, and a little bit of fear over what comes next. But I can’t wait for him to take my nightgown off. For his lips and his hands and the rest of him to touch the rest of me.
He releases me and stands back, looking down at me, lighting up my skin with his sun-filled eyes.
“Lie down now,” he says. “Time for sleep.”
I’m halfway on my back when his words finally register. “What?”
“I will see you soon, Goldie,” he says, already turning for the door.
I leap off the bed and grab his arm to stop him from leaving. And feel like a total fool as his eyes turn stern.
“Do as I say,” he says and I release him automatically, knowing somewhere deep that I’ll get nowhere by arguing. We’re doing this his way. And so far, it’s been exactly what I needed. I should trust him.
So I walk back to bed, climbing in. He doesn’t avert his stern gaze until the covers are pulled up to my chin.
“Good girl,” he says. “Now dream of me. Because I will certainly dream of you.”
“I will,” I promise him and it’s already a done deal. Even though I don’t want to fall asleep yet. I want to lie here, awake, feeling the tingling left by his kisses on my lips and the sparkling they left in my veins.
But my room is dark and empty again. He’s gone. So silently and completely I’m questioning whether he was here at all.
But I can still feel the echoes of his hand around my throat and his voice is still whispering in my head, telling me he’ll dream of me. And that is enough to know just how real all this is. Just how perfect. Just how magical.