Chapter 44 Evelyn
Evelyn
“Talk to me,” Massimo urges, cuddling me against him in our bed.
“I’m okay,” I promise, crushing my residual fear and horror into a tight ball and shoving it deep into my chest.
He frowns down at me. “Don’t do that with me.”
“Do what?”
“Lie to us both. You don’t have to pretend to be okay. I don’t want you to hide your feelings in an attempt to spare me from worry. I want to know all of your emotions, even the darker ones. Nothing you say will make me abandon you.”
My throat tightens. He sees me so clearly. He understands me in a way I hardly even know myself.
For years, I’ve hidden my more distressing emotions.
I’ve made myself small because I didn’t want to be difficult.
I was afraid people would rebuke me for it like my mother, or worse, that they would abandon me like my father.
George never noticed how I concealed my darker emotions from him to make his life easier.
Or maybe he did notice, but he allowed me to diminish myself.
George.
My ex-fiancé is dead, and I helped incapacitate him.
I search my heart and realize that I’m mostly relieved that he can never hurt me again. He can’t hurt Massimo.
“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” I declare. “And I wasn’t going to let him hurt me either. Not again. I belong with you, Massimo.”
He looks at me with awe. “I will never deserve you.”
“We deserve each other,” I say with quiet intensity. “We both deserve to be happy. I’ve never had a real family, not in the ways that truly matter. You are my family. I won’t allow anyone to separate us.”
“My fierce, brave girl,” he praises. “You saved us both, but you can be vulnerable with me. I want you to be yourself when we’re together, even when it means talking about difficult things. You don’t have to shoulder those burdens on your own anymore. Trust me to share them with you.”
My heart swells with love for him, and I snuggle closer to his hard chest, breathing him in.
“I was so scared,” I admit on a shaky whisper. “I thought they were going to kill you.”
He strokes my hair. “I was scared too. I’ve never felt fear like that. Rocco hurt you, and I had to watch.” His features harden to granite. “It will never happen again.”
No, it won’t happen again. Because the man who killed his parents, Rocco, is dead. Massimo beat him and strangled him.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” he rumbles, his voice rough with regret.
I brush a reassuring kiss over his taut lips. “You protected me. You saved us both. I will never like the violence, but I understand. I’m not afraid of you.”
He blows out a shaky breath. “If I could make sure that you will never feel fear again, I would. But I swear I will do everything in my power to prevent it.”
“I know. I trust you.” I kiss him again, then ask, “How are you feeling? That man, Rocco, he killed your parents, didn’t he? You must’ve hated him for a long time.”
His eyes search mine, and he’s silent for a long moment. I’m not sure if he’s puzzling through his own complicated feelings or if he’s trying to put them into words that won’t upset me.
I meet his gaze with an open heart, waiting for him to speak his truth. I’ll accept anything he says, even if it might be disturbing. I accept all of him, and I’ll prove it to him every day, just as he’s proven himself to me so many times.
“Yes,” he finally admits quietly. “I hated him. I still do. I’m not sure if that hatred will ever fade, but at least I have the peace of knowing he’ll never hurt anyone else.
Their deaths have been avenged.” He shakes his head.
“But I don’t feel any different. They’re still gone. And it will always be my fault.”
I trace the tense line of his clenched jaw. He leans into my touch and closes his eyes briefly, as though he’s savoring the tender contact.
“Rocco took them from you,” I say gently. “He’s responsible. You were just a boy in a difficult situation. You have to forgive yourself.”
His eyes flash. “I don’t know if I can.”
He’s carried the weight of responsibility for their deaths for so many years that he doesn’t know how to live without it.
I press a gentle kiss to his furrowed brow. “You are forgiven.”
If he hears the words spoken aloud, he might one day say them to himself.
“You protected me today,” I reassure him. “You made sure that Rocco can’t hurt me again. He will never take anyone else’s family away from them. You did what was right. You’re a good man, Massimo.”
His eyes are tight with something like longing. He wants to believe me.
“I love you,” I vow. “Nothing will change that.”
His lips meet mine in an achingly gentle caress.
There’s quiet desperation in the kiss, a slight tension lingering around his mouth.
I gingerly touch his stubble-roughened jaw, soothing him as I open for him on a sigh.
I welcome him to claim me with soft flicks of my tongue against his.
He groans, almost a sound of pain, and surrenders to our chemistry.
He grasps my hips and rolls onto his back, pulling me upright so that I straddle him. His deft fingers find the delicate zipper at the back of my dress, and he makes quick work of stripping me down to my underwear.
When he jerks his own shirt over his head, I pull back. A dark bruise marks his left side—where his enemies viciously kicked him.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I murmur, lightly touching my palm to his heart.
“The only thing you can do that will hurt me is to deny me,” he rasps, his eyes burning into my soul. “I love you, Evelyn.”
My heart skips a beat. I’ve declared my feelings for him, but I’m not prepared for the overwhelming surge of emotion that’s elicited by those sweet words dropping from his beautiful lips.
Because looking into his shining eyes, I can see into his soul too.
The love he offers me is fierce and unconditional.
I will never have to prove myself to him.
I will never have to earn his affection.
I’m enough for him, just as I am.
And he’s more than enough for me; he’s better than anything I’ve ever dared to dream for myself.
Words stick in my constricted throat, so I worship his body with my mouth, dropping hungry, reverent kisses on his jaw, his throat, his chest. I trace the shape of his abs with my tongue, and they ripple beneath me as his hand sinks into my hair.
He doesn’t guide me lower or demand anything of me, but his firm grip anchors me to him.
I unbuckle his belt and quickly free his cock so that I can taste him. His hard length juts toward me, and I don’t hesitate to take him into my mouth. I wrap my lips around him and welcome him in one slow slide, suppressing my gag reflex to accommodate all of his impressive length.
He murmurs my name like a prayer, and his fingers tighten in my hair, holding me down on his shaft. I soften and stay where he wants me, allowing him to control my breath.
He has all of me. I give myself to him willingly, eagerly.
When I begin to feel dizzy, he tugs me off him. My lips grasp at his cockhead, and my tongue swirls around him in regret as he pulls free.
“I want you,” I beg in a breathy whisper.
“You have me, dolcezza. But I’m not finished with you yet. I won’t be for a long time.”
He settles his body over mine and eases into me, his cock stretching me inch by delicious inch.
He kisses me long and deep, his tongue thrusting into my mouth to match the rhythm of his cock driving into my pussy.
With each domineering stroke, he lays claim to everything I am and offers me himself in return.
“I love you,” he promises between kisses, over and over again. He brands the promise onto my flesh with tongue and teeth.
We come together, our bodies joined as pure bliss sings through our bound souls.