Chapter Eight
Nico
The night is a blur of art, people, and conversations.
At one point, a hotel attendant gives me a room number and a key card to our new suite—a necessity after the mess Bruno and Dr. Arturo left in ours.
I find it amusing that a room suddenly materialized after we were told just yesterday that they were completely booked.
Something tells me Pope has a role in making one available for us.
I find Gabriella chatting with some suit that was introduced to us earlier as a gallery owner, but I don’t immediately approach her.
Instead, I lean against the cool, white wall and keep my eyes on her the way I have all evening.
I took my eyes off her once to talk to the hotel attendant, but the rest of the night has been spent tracking her.
The way she moves through the gallery space like a goddess in a sea of softly lit canvases, it tempts me into pulling her close every time she is within reach.
Fuck, she is stunning.
Her dress is a river of dark silk, clinging to her curves in a way that makes my mouth water and my cock hard.
Her dark hair is pulled back, showing the delicate curve of her neck, and it’s taken everything in me not to take her in my arms and kiss her senseless.
But tonight is her night, and I’m determined to behave.
That control is wearing thin as the evening draws to an end.
Christ, I want her.
I’m tempted to walk over to her and pull her away from the suit she’s talking to.
We met several of those already, all interested in hosting Gabriella’s next art exhibition, should she choose to have one.
It would be her first after graduating from college, and I can tell many of these people are hoping to have the pleasure of hosting her.
I watch her smile kindly at the suit, sliding his business card into her bag, along with the others she’s collected. When the man is pulled away, I walk over and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against me and smiling when she leans into my touch.
“Tired?” I ask, brushing my lips over her temple.
“A little,” she says, leaning in and shamelessly nuzzling my throat.
“I’m overwhelmed, too. That was Jonathan Schmidt I was just talking to—can you believe it?
He’s an art dealer with galleries all over the world, and he offered me his card if I ever want to hold an exhibition at one of his galleries. ”
“That’s amazing, baby, I’m so proud of you.”
She wraps an arm around my midsection, leaning deeper into the embrace.
“I can’t believe the people in this room.
I thought it was going to be a small showing, but there are some big names here.
” My eyes sweep around the room, but I don’t recognize anyone—just a crowd of well-dressed people fawning over paintings on the walls, but it’s clear these are people Gabriella respects.
“I know he did a bad thing but part of me is grateful that Dr. Arturo encouraged me to enter the contest.”
My body goes taut at the name of that fucking professor.
I had sensed something off in him when I met him but brushed it off.
I could see his attraction to Gabriella but figured he was too much of a pussy to do anything in my presence.
I was wrong. It’s why I’ve made it obvious to everyone in this room that my eyes are on Gabriella—and that any move toward her would be met with a broken hand and a dislocated jaw.
Thankfully, everyone who approached her seemed to only want to talk about art.
“I don’t want to hear his name.” Hell, the guilt of leaving Gabriella alone and vulnerable in that hotel room hasn’t gone. Who knows what that asshole would have done if Bruno hadn’t gotten to him in time? “He’s lucky the MC took him.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if he’d view it as luck. That Pope guy doesn’t look like the kind to take it easy on anyone.”
Our conversation is cut short when someone else approaches Gabriella to talk about her art, and it’s then that I notice the exhaustion in her eyes and the strain in her voice as she tries to keep a happy front for the stranger.
I let the conversation wind before taking Gabriella’s hand and taking her with me. “Okay, we’re done for the night?”
“What—the exhibition doesn’t end until eleven?”
“We’re leaving, Gabby.”
“Leaving?”
Something about her voice stops me cold. When I turn to her, I find panic on her face, tears swimming in her eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says, tilting her head back and blinking hard. “Sorry. I just…I don’t like that word. You said we were leaving, and…it’s nothing. Never mind me.”
I watch her for a moment before pulling her out of the hall, past the chaos of the casino floor, and to the bank of elevators.
My hand stays firmly on her back on the ride up, and it’s not until we’re in the privacy of our new room that I spin her around, her back to the wall.
I cup her cheek so those beautiful eyes are on me, glistening with tears.
“That word shouldn’t make you cry, baby,” I rasp, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “Do you think anything will change between us when we leave Vegas? Do you really believe that once we get out of here, I will keep my distance and watch you move on with some faceless man?”
“But…Matteo—”
“Will have a fucking hard time finding someone who can take care of you better than I can, baby. I don’t care whether our families have an issue with us.
You’re mine here, and that will remain true when we leave Vegas.
” I press my forehead to hers. “I won’t hide you, princepessa.
I refuse to hide what we’ve found on this trip—not from your family or mine, and not from the world.
” I pull back to look at her. “Can’t you see what you do to me, Gabriella.
How helpless I am before you. You’ve shattered my walls and made me yours.
I love you, princess. I can’t do anything but. ”
Gabriella flings her arms around me, burying her face in my neck. “I was so scared,” she whispers into my skin, and when I feel the tears, my chest cracks. “I thought this would be over once we left. I love you so much, Nico.”
I feel it fill the hole I’ve carried in my chest for months, deepening every day I couldn’t reach my brother, every day I saw heartbreak on my mother’s face, and every time I looked at Gabriella and convinced myself I couldn’t have her. I hadn’t realized how hollow it was until this moment.
“I love you,” I rasp, emotions thick in my throat as I kiss her forehead and cheeks before finally taking her mouth with mine. The kiss is meant to be soft, soothing, binding, but the second I taste her lips, I’m a goner. Gabriella whimpers against me when the kiss turns rough. Hot.
Impatient hands tug at the clothes between us, desperate to be skin to skin.
My breath shudders, and I pull back to look at her—flushed face and half-hooded, gorgeous eyes.
“Christ, you’re so beautiful. You have no idea how many times I had to talk myself out of stealing you from your fans to fuck you against some hidden corner at the gallery. ”
“You did?”
“I don’t have to hold back now.” I tug the dress off her shoulders, watching her eyes roll back when I find a taut nipple and pinch it between my fingers, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.
“Let me take care of that for you,” I say hoarsely, dipping my head and running my tongue over the peak to ease the sting.
I watch her face as I roll my tongue over the velvet smoothness of her nipples, sliding a hand underneath her dress to caress her thigh.
“Nico.” My name on her lips is a heaved sigh, one that turns into a moan when my mouth closes hotly around her left nipple, suckling gently at first then harder, watching her lips part when I pull hard at the soft bead. “Oh God, Nico…”
I release her nipple with a soft pop before rising to kiss her.
She reaches between us to touch me, but I catch her wrists and hold her hands above her head, even as my free hand skims up her thighs, trailing my fingers closer to her pussy.
She bucks against me, whimpering into the kiss when I press my thumb over her panties, groaning when I find her soaked.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” I growl, pulling back to look into her eyes. “How long?”
“All night,” she whispers, gasping when I slide a finger under her panties and ease inside her. I groan when her pussy clenches hard around my finger, pulsing with heat. And God, it takes everything to not to free myself and sink balls-deep into her right now.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” I say hoarsely, working my finger in and out of her pussy, slick and deep with every slide.
I pin her to the wall with my body, wrists held firm in my right hand, feeling every tremble and quake as I push faster, my cock throbbing, begging to replace that finger. For relief.
“Close,” she chants, dropping her head to my shoulder as she arches into my touch. “Oh God, Nico…, so close… Oh!”
Her eyes glaze, lips parting with a sob as she comes, clenching hard around my finger. I nearly spill in my pants from the intensity alone. I keep her there, thrusting in and out of her, teasing her swollen clit with my thumb until she’s bucking against me.
The next few moments happen in a blur of stripped clothes, fevered touches, and when I finally slide my cock into her, all sense of control is gone.
Her legs wrap around my hips, back pressed against the wall, and her fingers gripping my shoulders as I hammer into her.
I’m a savage, greedy for the feel of her, the taste of her.
Our cries fill the room as my hips piston faster, plunging my cock deeper into her tightness.
It’s heaven. The feel of her. The scent of her. The noises she makes as I fuck her.
Mine.
My climax tears through me, leaving me weak.
I bury my face in her neck, growling into her skin as I come, moving faster and driving her into her own climax.
I call her name as I empty myself into her body, thrusting deep and slow until I’ve poured everything into her—my cum coating her slick walls.
I collapse against her, burying my face in her hair as my breath heaves. The pounding in my head dulls, the fog lifting a little, reminding me we didn’t even pause to check out our new room.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pushing back to look at Gabriella, a smirk pulling at my mouth at her dazed expression. “You look—”
“Like someone who just had her world rocked? Yes, that would be right.”
I laugh, tightening my arms around her as I look around the room. I laugh when I spot roses spread on the bed and a bottle of champagne with two glasses on the table. I carry Gabriella to the bed and set her down before reaching for the card next to the champagne.
“What does it say?” Gabriella asks, leaning over my shoulder for a peek. “Congratulations,” she reads out. “Do you know who it’s from?”
“Brun—Ghost,” I say, recognizing my brother’s messy handwriting.
He looks healthier than I’ve seen him in years, clearly sober.
Seeing him today has brought me something close to peace.
The Rossis may never fully accept him back, but some of the animosity will fade once they learn what he did for Gabriella And that’s all I can ask, really.
It’s clear Ghost has found his family here and intends to stay.
“You’re worried about your brother, aren’t you?” Gabriella asks, pressing her lips against my jaw.
“Not anymore,” I say, tossing the card back on the table and turning to face her. “Ghost has found his home here. And I intend to start working on mine.”
“Me?”
“You,” I say, tumbling her back on the bed, my mouth seeking hers in a gentle kiss. But I stop it before it can turn heated, pushing back to look into her beautiful eyes that steal my breath. “I love you, Gabriella Rossi. I can’t wait to start a family with you.”
When she smiles, radiant and wide, everything else fades, and I see only her.
Only ever her.