Chapter 14
Ihad to do it.
I needed to wipe him clean of it. And it looks like it worked.
He hasn’t said much since the smack. Even as he drives into my father’s estate and parks in front of the main building.
He was going to say something, but Jake interrupted us and asked us to see his Batman series with him. We went with him, and it didn’t take long before he fell asleep in my arms.
Our goodbye to Mindy was simple and quick but not void of warmth from her to me. Fabio tried to hold a calm expression that didn’t give away our feud, but I could feel the choking air.
I am done with all his stunts.
And it is not that I am forcing myself to fit in or love Jake. The boy is adorable. He evokes the kind of boy Fabio was or could have been—so full of life and energetic. I wonder if Fabio shares any of the artistic traits Jake is showing.
He never seemed to be into art and I have never been to his apartment before. If I had to guess, I would bet the man is soaked in coal. Not a single light. Guns everywhere. Maybe even an arrow facing the door that goes off when an intruder walks in.
Fabio is many things, and even when my mind stirs up the most impossible scenarios, he surpasses them all. So maybe instead of arrows, he will have fireballs.
I open the car door, step out, go to the backseat, and pick up my damaged camera. I have about five other ones, but I will need to replace this one because it’s my favorite.
I clutch it to my chest, the hurt from what Paul did coming back to settle in my stomach. I have been distracted all evening, but I have yet another rejection from Fabio to help worsen all the damnations I have experienced today.
I was doing it for him.
I put myself at risk because of him.
I gulp, trying to keep my tears locked in. I will let them out when I get to my bedroom. I need my bedroom. I would have gone to my father, but he is with Vittoria. He won’t mind. Her pregnancy requires his presence, so while she wouldn”t mind either, I don”t want to put them under unnecessary stress by making them think they must constantly worry about me.
I should be able to take care of my problems on my own.
I slam the door of the backseat and spin to find Fabio standing in front of me.
“Stay away from me, Fabio,” I spin and saunter into the main building, passively waving at the men prancing about.
“Are you good, Eva?” One of them asks and I nod, not caring to spare a look to know which one of them it is.
The chandelier in the sitting area emits a low light, and I can hear the distant chatteringof housekeepers. My gaze quickly moves to Salvatore”s old bedroom, which shares a door with this room.
I tighten my grip on my camera as I consider how quickly things have changed. Though he was never the most affectionate brother, there were times when he defended me. He was always willing to pick a fight and, if possible, beat someone to a pulp, no matter who they were, to do so.
I had concluded he was just an angry kid who needed to let some anger off. But he was also my brother in more ways than I had cared to appreciate. We had our differences, and they were many. We usually kept away from each other, but I wish he would come through that door again, all scraggy, glaring at me and cursing under his breath at everything and everyone.
I also wish I could go back to the days when I could pretend I did not want Fabio, the days when it was okay to co-exist with him in the same space without feeling like someone was running a laser beam over my skin.
I take the stairs two at a time as I feel Fabio following me.
I can’t hear his footsteps, but I know he is coming after me. It’s both thrilling and annoying. It’s infuriating that he holds so much power over my mood. When he looks at me in his enchanting way, the world, my doubts, and my fears all disappear under the heat of his gaze.
And when he looks away, when he strikes with his rejection, they come flooding back, sending me flying in the air, trying to grasp for balance.
I open my door and go into the uproar of colors that is my bedroom. I am determined to shut him out, but he places his foot to wedge it and pushes gently, slipping into my space. Invading my privacy.
“Get out of my room, or I will scream,” I point at the door, and he closes it instead.
His green eyes skim the walls of my bedroom, the pictures on each wall, and then drop on a picture of him. One I took some years ago when I had started photography. It’s a little blurry but it captured the magic of the moment.
I was in motion. I didn’t want him to know I was trying to take pictures of him. His hair was longer and flaring from the ruffling of the wind as he stood by the beach shore my father had taken Salvatore and me to for a summer getaway. He had a T-shirt on that day, which was rare. I needed to capture the peace in his eyes as he stared at the ocean.
It was what had inspired my style of photography.
“You hit me,” he struts to the picture of himself, stopping in front of it. Not too close, but close enough, like he has viewed my art countless times. Like he knows how to look at a work of art.
Now that I think about it, he has always been like that with me. He never makes the mistake of trying to touch. Is that what I am to him? Something he cannot touch but only watch from a distance?
“You deserved it.” He did and I will unleash my fury again if he so much as starts another tirade about me having to choose another person over him.
“I did,” he turns slowly to face me, and I nod, throwing my camera on the bed, “I owe you a new camera, too,” he points with his chin at it, and I shrug. He can do whatever he wants, “Eva…”
“I have had enough for one day,” I lift both hands in the air and then drop them to my hips. “You know what?” I edge towards him. “Whatever. I will find someone else, and I will free you and maybe one day, when it is too late, you may decide if you can be redeemed.” I stop in front of him, deadly tired. “I have heard all you had to say, now leave my room,” I point at the door.
He nods and takes a step toward my door, winding me into another round of fury. I can’t say what it is about him that brings out that part of me.
“Yeah, do that. Leave,” I go after him and my words bounce back to me as he halts and spins to face me. “Leave,” it’s a breath because of how the ability to speak eludes me under his unearthing gaze.
He can see through my stunts and knows I want nothing more than for him to stay.
I raise my hands, intent on punching him, but I grasp his shirt instead. “Leave,” my voice creaks. “Go away,” I press myself against him, and he grunts deeply. I feel its vibration against my body.
I jerk him, but he is unmovable. I throw a weak punch against the hard build of his chest and let my hand press flat against it, dragging it in the direction of his heart. I can feel it beating fast.
I tip, leaning my forehead against the side of his mouth. I am tired. I want to scream at him, scratch him, scratch myself, yell at the world. I want to do so many things and anything that will ease these twisting in my stomach.
He breathes, syncing the tempo with my breath, which grows frantic by the second. He covers my hand on his chest with his, pressing it hard like he wants to rip his heart out and serve it to me.
“I will do it, I will carve it out for you, Eva,” he curses under his breath, warm flushes of heat brushing my temple.
I tilt my head, and his mouth covers mine. His tongue invades me, consuming me the same way he consumes my mind.
He nibs on my lower lip, and I suck in a sharp, stomach-flipping breath of air.
I slip my fingers into his hair as he lifts me off the floor and lowers me gently on the bed, slowing the kiss to a stop.
“Eva,” I love the way he says my name. Like he gave it to me, like only he truly understands the meaning of it. “I am losing it here,” he puffs on my lips, and the heat wave settles in the base of my stomach, then slips a little lower to my core.
He drops to my side and grunts, punching the mattress.
I sit up and struggle with my zipper while he exerts whatever emotions he deems necessary.
If he won’t have me as his wife, the least he can do for me is to be my first. I don’t want anyone else. I never did. But if the one I want won’t have me long term, I am giving myself to him, and he can give me the gift of knowing my body before anyone else.
I scoot to the edge of the bed, then stand, dragging my dress off my shoulder and down my body until it drops into a pool of white on the floor around my feet. I kick off my shoes and stand before him in just a white thong.
It takes him a few seconds to see what is before him.
His eyes darken, and his breathing turns guttural.
My body thrums and the vibration has a shuddering effect on my core. I feel the wetness, making my thong damp where it touches my center.
“Christ,” he spurts through clenching teeth. “Oh, fuck, Eva,” he comes up, sitting.
I strut to him, and he opens his legs so I can stand between them. I thought he would need more convincing, but his lips press a kiss on my stomach, his tongue moving in slow circles. His hands slide up my back till they are beneath my breasts, then his fingers glide downthe slit in my ass, finding their way tothe back of my thighs.
I am physically trembling.
It’s the first time I have been this way with anyone. It’s the first time I am letting myself be this exposed; heart, body, and soul. It is the first time my body is feeling the touch of a man. I want this man as much as I need air to stay alive.
“You little devil,” he closes his eyes and drinks me in with a deep breath. “I can’t fight…”
Using only the tip of my index finger, I push him back, making him fall onto the mattress. I crawl on the bed, but he rolls me onto my back,toweringabove me.
Hiserection grinds againstmy damp center whilehis tongue explores my mouthandhis hands brandmy skin. He drags his lips down my neck and to the side of my face. He continues till he finds my nipple, covering it with his tongue while sucking and flicking. The action has the effect of the flipping ofa switch; myentire body comes alive.
He takes his hand between my legs, slipping it under my thong, and groans when he finds me wet. He brushes his fingers on my slick core and slips one in.
He circles his finger inside of me, and I moan loudly, twisting my body to find a good position. He adds an extra finger, and it fills me up completely like I can’t take anymore, but then he adds a third and expands me past my limit.
He comes back to kiss me, resting his body on his elbow by the side of my head while his fingers work their way inside of me, burning me up, electrifying my senses, and leaving only one feeling sprinting through all of them.
It’s as if I can see the pleasure. As if I can taste it, hear it, and it’s somehow capable of making me disintegrate.
But I want more. I want him in me. I can feel the growing need in my stomach, circling to choke me as our tongues dance in a smothering kiss.
“I want you,” I reach for his pants, but he grunts, retrieves his fingers, rolls over to the side, and helps himself out.
He comes back to me, “I am clean but I will…”
“I am on the pill,” I breathe out.
I almost add that he is my first. If I tell Fabio, he will never go on with this. I can’t tell him. Besides, I have had this play out in my head so many times I can delude myself into thinking it’s just another dream.
He comes back down, resting on his elbow, his legs spreading mine further apart, and his other hand circling his length around my core. I tense but remind myself to relax as he nudges a tip in.
“Too many things to say,” he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Too many things to feel,” he slips in a little further, this is different from his fingers and bigger. “Too many dreams coming true at this moment,” he groans, the sound lingering as he goes fully in. “You feel fucking amazing,” he grits his teeth. “Too fucking amazing.”
It’s strange. It’s filling. It’s encompassing. It’s everything I had hoped it would be but somehow more than I had imagined it could ever be.
He begins to move inside of me, the sharp sting blurring out from the strokes of pleasure driving into me. Our moans fill the room, and soon, my legs go around his waist, the position shoveling a hole inside of me that leads him straight to a magic spot.
He locks eyes with me, and a tear slips down the side of my face. He dips his head and catches it with his tongue, then comes to kiss me with the saltiness on the tip of his tongue. I lick it off.
With each drive, I know how futile it is to think there will ever be another after him.
My heart won’t ever be able to find a way back from this.
He rests his forehead on mine, our breathing heavy.
As he comes again to lock his eyes with mine, it’s the catharsis for my climax. He strikes. My inside comes alive like wildfire, and the fire consumes my entire existence.
I feel the jolts of thunder through the base of my stomach, contracting my core until I am screaming in ecstasy and writhing from the intensity of pleasure.
He grinds his teeth, cursing under his breath as he comes with me.
The descent from the high takes a little while, and I seize the opportunity to wrap my arms around him.
“If I could choose, Fabio De Luca, I would still choose you to be my husband,” I gulp, fighting the tears. He stiffens under my touch as I run my fingers through his hair to the back of his neck.
I wince as he pulls out softly, but I preserve my act of being an expert at this. The void of him feels like the answer to my confession.
He is not going to stay.
Pulling back, he kneels and sits on the balls of his feet. A little smile crosses his face as he looks over my body, but it disappears when his gaze slides between my legs.
“Eva?” He folds his hands into fists and closes his eyes to grind his teeth loudly.
I sit up, looking at what could have him this way. I freeze as I see the stain of crimson on my baby pink bedsheets. Some of it is on my thighs. The smell of rusty iron wafts through the air.
He will kill me.
I feel my core contracting and sore. Hurting now that the pleasure is no longer part of the equation, but the sight of his large shaft with streaks of white stained by crimson is a memory I wish I could capture and hoard in a treasure chest.
“For fuck’s sake, Eva,” he stumbles back, the look of betrayal scaring his darkened eyes.
I puff and drop back on my bed.
No words needed.
None said.