Chapter 12
Tony
The ride to Isabella's apartment is silent, charged. My hands haven't stopped shaking since the warehouse - since seeing her standing over those men, split lip, victory in her eyes. Alive. Safe. Perfect. These aren't words in my usual vocabulary. I'm the man who makes problems disappear, who speaks in threats and commands. But with her...
The memory of Dom’s voice telling me she had been taken. Then silence. Hours of not knowing. Hours of imagining every possible outcome except the one where she saved herself.
She keeps stealing glances at me from the passenger seat. The streetlights catch the bruise forming on her cheekbone, and something dark twists in my gut. I let Dom deal with the kidnappers, and got Isabella out of there as fast as possible.
Right now all I can think about is her. Alive. Here. Mine.
Earlier, at the warehouse, I'd maintained control. Had to - too many eyes watching, too many people counting on me to be the cold, calculating boss they feared. But my hands had trembled when I touched her face, checking for injuries. When she smiled and called me late to the rescue.
We reach her building and I barely remember to put the car in park. The elevator ride is torture - her shoulder brushing mine, her perfume mixed with gunpowder and that damn warehouse. She unlocks her door with steady hands. Mine are still shaking.
As soon as the door closes behind us, I have her pressed against it, mouth crashing into hers. She makes a soft sound that shoots straight through me. All pretense of control shatters.
"Tony..." Her fingers dig into my shoulders, grounding me.
"I thought—" I can't finish. Instead, I kiss her again, harder. She responds with equal hunger, pulling me closer. The taste of her, the feel of her, alive and warm and here...
"I'm okay," she whispers against my lips. "I'm right here."
My hands shake as I unzip her dress. Her skin is warm, alive, marked with fresh bruises from the fight. I kiss each one gently, reverently, while she works on my shirt buttons. Every mark is a reminder of how close I came to losing her. Every breath she takes is a miracle.
"Shower," she says softly, fingers tracing the scars on my chest. "We both need..."
I nod, unable to speak. Unable to stop touching her, making sure she's real. The men who tried to take her will suffer, but that's for tomorrow. Tonight is just us.
Steam fills her bathroom as we shed the rest of our clothes. I've imagined this moment a thousand times, but never like this - desperate and tender all at once.
Water cascades over us, washing away tonight and everything except this - her hands on my skin, my mouth on her neck, the small sounds she makes when I press her against the shower wall, the water beating down around us, every drop seeming to intensify the feel of her against me.
Her skin is slick and warm beneath my hands, and I can’t get close enough, can't hold her tight enough. The lingering fear of losing her, the desperate relief that she’s here, safe in my arms—it all crashes through me, leaving me raw, every touch fueled by a need that borders on frantic.
She reaches up, threading her fingers through my hair, tugging just enough to ground me. Her gaze meets mine, full of understanding, the kind that speaks without words. And somehow, that undoes me all over again. I lean down, kissing her slowly this time, pouring everything I can’t say into it—the terror, the relief, the want. She parts her lips, her soft sigh mingling with the water, and it’s the only invitation I need.
My hands trace down her body, finding her waist, pulling her against me until there's no space left between us. The heat in her eyes, the quiet strength in her touch, ignites something deeper. My hands slide lower, lifting her, and she wraps her legs around me, her back pressing against the cool tile as our mouths collide again, more intense this time, a raw need driving us both.
“Tony…” she breathes, her voice rough but full of the same urgency I feel. I lower my mouth to her neck, tasting the water as it trails over her skin, down to her collarbone, where my teeth graze lightly, earning a gasp that only spurs me on.
I move one hand to hold her, the other sliding between us, finding the place that makes her gasp. Her head falls back against the wall as my fingers circle slowly, teasing her, building the tension between us until her breathing grows ragged, her grip on my shoulders tightening. She arches into my hand, her body moving in sync with my touch, her soft, desperate sounds reverberating through me. Her nails dig into my back as I work her harder, and her breath catches.
The tension finally snaps, and she shudders against me, her body tightening, waves of pleasure rolling through her as I hold her close, steadying her. I press a kiss to her temple, feeling her heartbeat begin to slow against my chest. The relief in her eyes mirrors my own, her expression soft as she leans her forehead against mine.
I sigh. “I need you, princess. I need all of you.”
She nods. Later we stumble to her bed, still damp, unwilling to stop touching.
As we step out of the shower, dripping wet and breathless, the air between us crackles with unspoken tension. I don’t bother with towels or clothes; there’s no need for pretense, no patience left. I lift her into my arms, her legs wrapping around me as I carry her straight to the bed, laying her down and climbing on top of her.
She gazes up at me, lips parted, her body still flushed from the water and the pleasure I gave her just moments ago. I can see it in her eyes—the hunger, the trust, and the thrill of surrender that only fuels my own need. I run my hands down her curves, savoring every inch of her soft, responsive skin beneath my rough touch.
“Mine,” I murmur, more to myself than to her, but she nods, her breathing heavy as she whispers back, “Yours.”
I position the steel rod of my cock at her entrance. Our gazes meet, and then I press into her slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to my size, every inch a stretch that leaves her gasping and clutching at my arms, her nails digging in with the kind of surrender that drives me wild. The sensation of her tight around me, inch by inch, nearly undoes me. She’s so warm, so perfectly shaped to me, like she was made to fit just this way.
She clutches at me, a moan escaping her lips as she shifts her hips, urging me deeper. And when she’s fully taken me, I still for a moment, letting her feel every inch, every part of me that she owns just as much as I own her. The way she bites her lip, arching beneath me, fuels my need to show her just what she means to me.
“Tony, yes,” she breathes, and I give her exactly what she’s asking for.
I start moving, hard and deep, setting a relentless pace that has her gasping with every thrust, her hands fisting in the sheets as I take her with all the intensity I’ve been holding back.
Every sound, every arch of her body beneath me, makes my control slip further. I lean down, claiming her mouth, swallowing the sounds of pleasure that escape her, feeling her body react, matching my every movement.
Just as I feel her muscles tightening, her body teetering on the edge, I pull out, drawing a strangled gasp from her.
I flip her over, pulling her hips up and gripping her waist, positioning her just right before thrusting back inside. She cries out, her body shuddering as I take her from behind, my hand wrapping around her hair, pulling her back against me.
“Mine,” I growl again, feeling her entire body respond, a surge of satisfaction roaring through me as I feel her surrender in every movement, every shiver that racks her body. My grip on her hip tightens, pulling her against me with each thrust as I lose myself in her, the need to claim her completely driving me.
Her cries grow louder, her body arching, meeting me, the desperation clear in the way she presses back against me, her pleasure building until finally, I feel her shudder, her release crashing through her, taking me with her.
When she collapses forward, spent and breathless, I follow, wrapping her in my arms, holding her close. For once, words escape me, but as I press a kiss to the back of her neck, feeling her heartbeat slow under my touch, I know she feels it all: the possession, the relief, and the promise that I’m never letting her go.
In the early morning hours we lie tangled in her sheets. Her head rests on my chest, my fingers tracing patterns on her back. The city glows outside her windows, but nothing exists except this moment, this woman. She hums contentedly as I run my fingers through her hair.
"Your heart's still racing," she murmurs.
"Been racing since that phone call." I pull her closer. "Since I heard Dom’s voice and didn’t know..."
"Hey." She pushes up to look at me. "I'm okay. We're okay."
"You could have died."
"But I didn't. I handled it."
"You did." Pride mixes with lingering fear. "You were amazing. Terrifying, but amazing."
She smiles, traces my jaw. "The great Tony Rivera, admitting someone else is terrifying?"
"You've always terrified me, bella." I catch her hand, kiss her palm. "From the first moment we met."
"You were so grumpy that day."
"I'm always grumpy."
"Not with me." She kisses my chest, right over my heart. "Not anymore."
The words slip out before I can think. "Marry me."
She goes still in my arms. "What?"
"Marry me." I tilt her chin up, meet her eyes. In the dim light, they shine with something that makes my chest ache. "I love you. I've loved you since . Tonight, when I thought... when they..."
"Tony..."
"I can't lose you." My voice is rough, stripped of all pretense. "I can't pretend I don't want forever with you. Marry me, Isabella."
She pushes up on one elbow, studies my face. There's a cut above her eyebrow that makes me want to kill those men all over again. "The families..."
"Don't care." I cup her cheek. "Let them talk. Let them plot. None of it matters except you."
A slow smile spreads across her face. "You're serious."
"Deadly." I brush my thumb across her split lip. "Say yes."
"Yes." She kisses me softly, then deeper. "Of course yes."
I pull her closer, something tight in my chest finally loosening. She's here. She's safe. She's mine. Forever.
"I don't have a ring yet," I murmur into her hair.
"Don't care." She tangles our fingers together. "Just don't let go."
"Never."
Her breathing evens out, but I stay awake, watching her sleep. Memorizing every detail - the curve of her shoulder, the faint scar on her collarbone, the way her lashes flutter against her cheeks.
Outside, the city keeps moving. Somewhere, Dom is dealing with the aftermath of tonight. Somewhere, families are plotting, alliances are shifting, enemies are watching.
None of it matters.
Isabella is in my arms, saying yes to forever. Everything else is just details.
I hold her tighter, feeling her heartbeat against mine. Alive. Safe. Mine.
Tomorrow, I'll get her a ring. Tomorrow, we'll deal with families and politics and consequences.
But tonight... tonight is just us. Me and my fierce princess.
Forever.