Chapter 16
Vittoria
Dario’s room is lit only by the glow of a single lamp. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with forearms resting on his knees and fingers laced together. He looks up when I step inside, but his expression doesn’t change. Just those brown eyes, calm but watching. Always watching.
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice is soft, even, but not cold.
I shut the door behind me. “I had to see you.”
He takes a slow and measured breath. “And what do you think will come out of this?”
I don’t know. Or maybe I do, but saying it out loud feels like too much. Instead, I walk forward, stopping a few feet away. He doesn’t move, doesn’t shift or lean back like I expect him to.
Dario is rooted in place like nothing, and no one could ever shake him. I used to think that was comforting. Now I’m not so sure.
“I just want to talk,” I say.
He doesn’t laugh, but there’s something close to amusement in the slight lift of his brow. “Talk?”
“Yes.”
Peace and quiet stretches between us, long enough that I wonder if he’ll just tell me to leave. Then, he nods to the chair across from him. An invitation. A test. I take it.
He studies me, and I let him. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that he hates dishonesty more than he hates betrayal. Maybe they’re the same thing in his world. Maybe that’s why I’m still here.
“Then talk. Tell me about him.” His voice is quieter now, but not gentle. It never is.
I know who he means. My stomach tightens. “What do you want to know?”
He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, and eyes still locked on me. “Everything.”
I exhale slowly. “I met him very young, barely in my twenties. He was charming, at first. Or maybe I was stupid. Probably both.” My fingers curl into the fabric of my leggings.
“He made me feel wanted. Needed. And when that changed, I thought—I thought if I just tried harder, if I was better, he’d go back to how he was in the beginning. ”
Dario says nothing, but his jaw tightens.
I keep going. “I stopped seeing my friends. He didn’t like them. Stopped going out unless he said it was okay. Wore what he wanted, said what he wanted, did whatever it took to keep the peace. But the peace never lasted.”
A muscle in his forearm tenses. “And you stayed.”
I nod. “Because leaving meant running. It meant not knowing where I’d go, what he’d do. It meant losing everything. And then…” My throat tightens. “Then he told me to come to you.”
Dario doesn’t speak, but I see it in his eyes—the war, the fury, the cold calculation that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the man who put me here.
My voice drops to something almost a whisper. “You were my way out.”
He lets out a breath, but his shoulders don’t relax. “And now?”
Now, I don’t know.
I lift my chin. “Now I miss you.”
His expression doesn’t change, but the space between us shifts, like something invisible just tightened around us. I don’t let myself stop. “I want you, Dario. I wanted you even when I knew I shouldn’t, and I want you now.”
He watches me for a long moment, then tilts his head slightly. “Undress.”
My breath catches but I don’t look away.
Slowly, I stand.
If this is all he wants I’ll give it to him.
My hands move to the hem of my shirt, and I pull it over my head. My leggings follow, leaving only my panties. The air is cool against my skin, but the heat in his eyes is worse. It burns.
I blink back tears, standing in front of Dario with nothing but my raging heart.
He is still sitting, now his head between his knees like he’s praying or trying to control himself from lashing out at me again.
For a moment, time seems to stand still, and all I can think about—and truly feel—is how much I want this man, how much I’d give to go back to when he wasn’t this hurt.
“Dario?” I call out.
He grunts in response and jerks his head up, looking directly at me. His eyes are the softest I’ve ever seen, but there’s also something else there—betrayal, probably, but also understanding. He may not trust me now, but I can sense it—the chance for redemption.
“I miss you.” Usually, I’d be knee-deep in thought, fighting for the right words to convince him to give me another chance, but tonight, I’m not thinking about that.
I just want him. The rawness of my desire overflows in my veins, releasing adrenaline that burns through me.
So, I don’t think. I just say the words as they come. “I miss you so much it hurts.”
He’s awfully good at that—analyzing whether it’s worth his time. I wonder if I’m worth his time. Fuck, I want to be. He spreads his arms wide, his eyes holding me captive. He stands but doesn’t reach for me. “You miss me when I’m right here?”
I drink him in. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, the first I’ve seen him in for so long. His hair is tousled, like he’s been in the wind for a while.
I walk up to him and place a hand on his chest. The hard, defined muscles make me wet my lips subconsciously. “God—you don’t know how much I want you right now.”
“Then go ahead and do whatever you want,” he says, calm and a little nonchalant.
So, I drop to my knees in front of the one man who’s managed to capture my heart and then some, reaching up to touch the growing bulge in his pants. When I lean up to kiss him through the fabric, he lets out a deep-throated chuckle that sounds both near and far at the same time.
“I want your cock in my mouth.”
He nods and licks his lower lip. I feel a dire need to grow between us as I continue stroking him through his jeans. I inch my hand upward to splay it across his muscular stomach.
“Do you want me to take it off?” he asks. He’s not being playful or teasing. He’s just direct, complicit in his want for me, and I for him. “Whatever you want, Vit, just ask.”
I’ve never heard him call me that—Vit. There’s endearment in the name, in the way he shortens it. I quickly unzip his jeans and push them down.
“Take off your shirt. I want to feel your body, skin to skin, please.”
He removes it without hesitation. I lean back on my heels to stare up at him. His body is breathtaking, adorned with ripples of muscle and abs that seem to shatter all thoughts. His olive skin glows in the light, like he’s covered in gold.
“How can you be so… perfect, Dario?”
To this, he says nothing.
I kiss him through his briefs. Dario digs his hands into my hair, gathering it in his fist and tugging. “Take what you want,” he drawls. “You want this? Fucking take it!”
He’s enormous. Even through his briefs, it’s the first thing that comes to mind. My breath catches when he shifts, and I inhale his earthy, delicious scent. “I want all of you.”
I reach out and free his cock, sighing as it throbs in my hand. He’s veiny, hard, and beautiful—so much so that I don’t think before licking the liquid pooling at the tip. He makes a guttural sound at the back of his throat, and I lick again.
And again.
And again.
“Stop teasing me, Vittoria!” he growls, impatient, horny, and desperate.
I palm his balls and squeeze gently, eliciting a groan of appreciation from him. When I swipe my tongue over his balls, his grip on my hair tightens. “Fuck… fuck,” he snaps. “Fucking hell!”
His cock twitches in my palm, and that’s how I know he likes it—along with his strong hold in my hair.
“Oh, Vittoria.” I look up at him to see that he’s thrown his head back. There’s a sheen of sweat on his chest, running down to his rippled belly. “Take me in that mouth of yours, and suck me like you live to have my cock in your mouth.”
So, I do. I open my mouth and let him slide inside. He’s warm, smooth, and literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. He glides down to the hollow of my throat, but I don’t stop. I hum over his cock and listen to him murmur my name over and over again.
“Sweet Jesus!” he mumbles when I bring him out of my mouth to lick him up and down. He’s salty on my tongue—heaven and hell combined. “You take my cock so damn well. Makes me want to… keep you tied down. Fuck you sore every single day.”
I nod, focused on him and his hot, dirty words.
He yanks my hair, and I cry out. “Open your mouth for me.”
I do.
He fucks my mouth hard then, gliding in and out, staying too long, thrusting with such force that I feel him in the back of my throat. I gag once or twice, but he doesn’t stop his violent plunges. There’s a bit of anger in the way he fucks my mouth—a kind of quiet vengeance—which I don’t mind.
I don’t want him to stop. I want to taste his come on my tongue, swallow him down.
As his body begins to grow taut, Dario releases his hold on my hair and pulls me up into his arms. His breathing is still ragged, but he strokes my arms with patience and love until his breath returns to normal.
“Why did you stop me? I wanted you to come in my mouth.” My voice comes out as a whine, but Dario doesn’t mind.
“You’ll get what you want when I say so, but not a moment before.” He snaps my panties off without warning, leaving me bare and exposed at his mercy.
He takes one hardened nipple in his mouth and bites. I yelp in pain until he licks the bite away with wonderful, wet kisses. “I want to taste your pretty pussy too.”
“Ohhh…”
“But I’m not fucking you just yet. Face the vanity.”
I obey.
He steps behind me, close enough that I can feel his warmth without touching him, and he turns my head to face the mirror. “Look,” he murmurs.
I do. My reflection stares back, body bare, face flushed, eyes dark. But it’s not just me. It’s him, standing behind me, taller, broader, fingers trailing from my shoulders down my arms. He holds my wrists, lifts them slightly, his mouth near my ear.
“You were his, once. And now?”
My pulse pounds. “Now I’m yours.”
His hands tighten. In the mirror, his eyes drag over me, then meet mine. “Then watch.”
And I do.
I glance at myself briefly before turning away, looking down. Dario tugs at my chin gently, his eyes a sweet sea of ease. “Why did you turn away?”
I sigh, feeling vulnerable in front of him. “I don’t like looking…”