Chapter 21
KATARINA
For the first time in a long time, I slept without dreams.
My mind simply shut off, and I rested in absolute deep, velvet dark.
When I woke, I panicked. Where was I? The room around me was strange, and the bed was hard. I was hot, too hot, and there was something around my neck that felt like a restraint.
Then, he shifted slightly in his sleep, and I registered his scent all around me, and my positioning made sense.
Massimo.
He held me against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, barely allowing me any space to shuffle away. Even in his sleep, he held on tight.
Yesterday flooded back. Benedict and the gun, the madness in his eyes. I shivered violently, the memory of the blood splashing against the tile walls taking me back to three years ago, and Mira.
I’m getting them, Mira. One by one.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, and found tears forming. I couldn’t stop them. A sob left my throat. I cringed, not wanting Massimo to wake up and see me crying. It was too pathetic. Why had I always been so weak?
But the avalanche of tears and the dump of trauma blindsiding me when I didn’t have my defenses up was too much to hold back.
So, I gave in. I cried. I sobbed. My tears soaked through my pillow. The fabric scratched my cheek. My body shook. I knew I should get up and move away from Massimo before I woke him. I was suddenly desperate to do that. To huddle in a corner and break down alone.
But when I tried to escape, his arms closed tighter around me, holding me to him.
I tapped his arm.
“Let me go,” I pleaded through my tears.
“No.” His low growl was immediate. His arms only grew tighter, forcing me against his chest, surrounding me with his warmth.
I twisted as much as I could to push at his hip glued to my back.
“Let go!”
He caught my hand and suddenly shifted away, making me fall flat to the mattress. His body slid across mine, his hands circling my wrists, and pinned me underneath him.
His dark-eyed gaze tracked across my hot, tearstained face. “If you’re going to fall apart, you’ll do it in my arms.”
“Why?” I burst out, irritation pressing through my sadness. I squirmed against him, shoving with all my might, but it was no use. There was no getting away from him and his pitch black gaze. I was laid bare, and there was nowhere to hide.
“So I can catch all the pieces,” he murmured softly.
I stilled at those words, my protests clogged in my aching throat. My heart fluttered.
“What?” I whispered.
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me.
This time, his kiss was gentle, coaxing me from the dark place I’d woken up in and pulling me from my painful memories.
“Angels shouldn’t cry, not over men like Benedict. It’s unholy,” he said, and traced his lips over my cheeks, pressing kisses to the trails of my tears.
I became aware of how heavy he was, and how his body touched mine in all the right places.
He was hard, long and thick, lying right between my legs against my core.
I writhed, sliding my pussy over that delicious hardness, instinctively reaching for something I’d only ever imagined but never experienced.
I wanted the clothes between us gone. I wanted his hot skin on mine.
I didn’t want to think anymore. I just wanted to feel.
His hand cupped my cheek, then slid back and gripped the hair at my nape. He tilted my head back and kissed me deeper. Hungrier. As he did, he thrust his hips into me, rubbing me just right.
I arched my back, thrusting my breasts to his hard chest. I felt suffocated by my clothes. In this small room, away from the rest of the world, it felt like we were the only people left in the universe.
“No more tears, micetta,” he said firmly, his voice deep and ragged.
Was he as affected by me as I was by him? It seemed impossible. I was the sheltered recluse. The girl who’d forgotten what the world outside the fence looked like.
While Massimo was worldly, older, stronger . . . everything. He’d lived a real life, not just existed as an afterthought, a loose end to shut away.
“I can’t fucking stand to see you cry,” he murmured on my lips, and leaned up on one hand to trail his other down my chest and slide my T-shirt up. “You’re the kind of person who should only ever smile.”
He yanked the bralette down and exposed my breast. Then he was swooping down to pull it into his mouth and rub his tongue across the hard point. It felt so good. I jerked against him feverishly, wanting more, wanting everything.
His hands were at the waistband of my sweatpants. Then he was urging them down. My panties went with them. His hands trailed over my thighs, leaving fire in their wake.
I was wet just at the memory of what had happened the last time he touched me there.
He sucked on my nipples as he eased his fingers down my slit.
He inserted one finger just inside and then circled my clit with his thumb.
I thrashed shamelessly, more turned on than I’d ever been.
Last night’s horrors slipped away, bit by bit, overwritten by these new feelings. New memories to replace the bad.
Then Massimo was heading downward. He left my T-shirt rucked up, my breasts puffy and pink from his tongue. Then his hot breath hit my lower belly, and I tensed, realizing his destination.
“What are you doing?” I said, panicked.
“Tasting you. Taking my next first.” He grinned against my belly and dipped his head toward my pussy and inhaled, his chest expanding. “There’s that sweet perfume. The one I lost my fucking head over.”
“Wait—I haven’t showered. I—you don’t have to—” I babbled.
He chuckled wickedly. “You think I care that you haven’t showered?
I want you to smell like you, not shitty soap.
I want you to taste like you . . . not chemicals.
Your smell drives me wild.” He tilted his face up to look at me, his eyes boring into mine.
“Take responsibility for this madness you’ve caused and ease my suffering. ”
Then he leaned down and licked me. His tongue was hot and wet and really fucking strong. He licked up my slit, surging through my slick folds, searching for my clit, just to drop and press inside me as well. I cried out, and one of his hands snaked upward and slid over my mouth.
“Shh, angel. No one gets to hear you come but me. That sound is mine and mine alone. Got it?”
Then he went back to my clit, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue as I rose and rose. His other hand went to my entrance. He wet his fingers in my juices and then slipped one gently inside. I nearly doubled over. It felt too good.
“We have to stretch you out, remember? We have to be diligent and work on that every day . . . no skipping the homework.”
His finger forged deeper inside me, and he slid in a second one.
I arched, melting into him. He laved my clit relentlessly, finger-fucking me at the same time.
I was so wet I could feel my arousal on my inner thighs and the bed beneath.
I wrapped my legs around his shoulders, holding his face in place, and he chuckled as he ate me.
I was shameless. The lust I’d been accused of for so long had taken me over.
But mine was for one person and one alone.
Only for Massimo. I’d never felt attraction like I felt for him.
This chemistry between us wasn’t something ordinary.
Even in my inexperience, I could tell as much. We were electric.
When I came, I saw stars. Beautiful, crystalline lights exploding behind my eyes.
I still pulsed with heat and pleasure when he carefully pulled his fingers from me and stood.
Bending sharply, he grabbed my panties off the floor and straightened up, his hand going to his cock.
It was an intriguing sight. I’d seen plenty of them during my BS therapy session with Pavol, but never one like this.
It was impressive, and scarily big and thick.
He pumped his hand along the shaft, positioned over my body.
Was he going to come on me? I watched with rapt attention and curiosity.
He thrust his cock faster in his hand and held my panties to his face, inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, nothing smells like you, and nothing ever will,” he growled.
His hips pistoned faster, and he lowered my panties away from his face and draped the crotch over the end of his cock just as he started to come. He grunted, deep and rough, as his hips jerked. He emptied himself into my panties, catching every single drop of cum perfectly in the material.
I lost track of how long I watched him while he came undone. For a moment, he was stripped of his usual mask of charming indifference. He was just him. He let out a long sigh and dropped his hands, my panties still clutched in one of them.
“Fuck, I feel like I’m sixteen years old again around you,” he admitted, and looked me up and down. “My cock certainly feels reborn at the sight of you, little stray. I’ve never been so ready to fuck as I am around you, any time or place, I’m ready.”
“Well, why don’t we?” I wondered, eyeing his spent cock. The size had barely gone down. Despite making the most scandalous agreement of my life, I was still a freaking virgin.
I wet my lips, and Massimo groaned.
“Because I’m not taking all your firsts at once. I want them one by fucking one . . . slowly. You won’t rush me,” he warned. “No matter how much you want to be fucked properly.”
His grin told me he was just teasing me, so I rolled my eyes and glanced away.
“Anyway, what happens now?” I asked him. A silver chain glinted around his neck. Something that was usually hidden. A long chain with hanging flat metal discs. Dog tags? There was so much I didn't know about this man, but now wasn't the time. I forced myself to focus on his answer.
“I kill Pavol. Sooner rather than later. Things will unravel quickly here once they discover Benedict is missing. It’ll be chaotic.” A hint of a grin touched Massimo’s lips.
“Why do I feel like you’re looking forward to that?”
“In chaos, I thrive. Two down. One to go.” Then he lifted his hand, still holding my cum-soaked panties.
“Now, put these on like a good girl, and I’ll see you back to your room.”
“Put those on?” I exclaimed, shocked by the idea and more than a little curious. Why was the idea hot?
He nodded.
“Why?”
“So you smell like me, angel. So you don’t forget who your partner is.”
“Like I could forget you,” I muttered with another eye roll.
“Hmm, I am rather unforgettable, aren’t I?” Massimo teased, and helped me to my feet.
I blushed furiously when he handed me the panties, my cheeks hot and scratchy.
“But,” he added, “not as unforgettable as you.”