Chapter 9 Valentino #3
"You're mine," Luca said, hands on my hips, pulling me close. "No one else's. Not Reeves's. Not the FBI's. Mine."
"Yours," I agreed. "Only yours. Always."
He kissed me hard, grinding against me, both of us already hard and desperate. His hands moved to my shirt, yanking it over my head and tossing it aside. Mine did the same to his, both of us needing skin on skin, needing the connection.
"I'm going to fuck you right here," he said against my throat. "Against these windows where we stood and talked. Going to show you exactly who you belong to."
"Yes. God, yes."
He stripped off my jeans and underwear, leaving me naked against the glass. The exhibition of it—being completely exposed against the windows with the city below—should have bothered me. But all I felt was want.
Luca stepped back to look at me, still fully clothed, and the power dynamic made me shiver. "Beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful like this."
"Luca, please—"
"Please what? Tell me what you need."
"You. I need you. Inside me. Claiming me. Showing me I'm yours."
"You are mine." He stepped closer, hands on my hips again. "Every inch of you belongs to me. This body—" He traced a hand down my chest. "This heart—" Over where my heart was racing. "This mind—" He kissed me deeply. "All mine."
"All yours," I gasped.
He finally stripped off his own clothes, then reached for the lube we kept nearby. Prepared me with fingers that were efficient and thorough, stretching me open while I gasped and moaned against the glass.
"That's it. Open up for me. Let me in."
"Please, I need—"
"I know what you need." He withdrew his fingers and I whimpered at the loss. Then he was there, pressing against me, pushing inside slowly.
I cried out as he filled me, the stretch intense, the feeling of being owned complete. He didn't stop until he was fully seated, both of us breathing hard.
"Look at you," he murmured. "Taking me so perfectly. Like you were made for this. Made for me."
"I was. I am." I tried to move but he held me still.
"Not yet. I want you to feel this. Feel me inside you. Feel who you belong to."
"I feel it. God, Luca, I feel it."
"Good." He started to move then, slow deep thrusts that made me see stars. "You're mine. Say it."
"I'm yours."
"Again."
"I'm yours. Luca, I'm yours."
"That's right." He picked up the pace, harder now, more intense. "Mine to protect. Mine to claim. Mine to love."
"Yes. All of it. Yes."
He fucked me against the windows with the city spread out below us, both of us lost in the sensation, in the connection, in the desperate need to prove we belonged to each other despite everything trying to tear us apart.
"Touch yourself," he ordered. "I want to feel you come around me."
I wrapped a hand around myself, stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation pushed me closer to the edge, pleasure building impossibly high.
"Luca—I'm close—"
"Then come. Come for me. Show me you're mine."
I came with a cry, spilling over my hand while my body clenched around him. The sensation pushed him over the edge too and he buried himself deep, grinding against me as he came.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both panting, both wrung out. Then he carefully pulled out and turned me in his arms, pressing my back against the glass and my front against his chest.
"I love you," he said fiercely. "I'm in love with you. Completely. And no one—not Reeves, not the FBI, not anyone—is taking you from me."
"I love you too." I held on to him. "Whatever happens, we face it together."
"Together." He kissed me softly. "Always together."
We stood there for a while, holding each other against the windows, both looking out at the city that had become our home. The city where we'd built something real from a dark beginning. Where we'd fallen in love despite every reason not to.
"He's going to file charges," I said quietly. "Within the week, he said."
"I know."
"We're going to be arrested. Arraigned. This is going to be public and ugly."
"I know that too."
"And you still want this? Want me? Even knowing what's coming?"
"Especially knowing what's coming." He held me tighter. "You chose me, Valentino. Refused immunity, refused to flip, chose to face charges rather than betray me. That's—" His voice caught. "That means everything."
"I couldn't betray you. I love you too much."
"I don't deserve you."
"You deserve me. You deserve this. You deserve someone who chooses you." I pulled back to look at him. "We're going to get through this."
"We are." He kissed me. "Because we have each other. And that's everything."
We cleaned up and got dressed, both of us quieter now, more settled. The desperate energy had burned off, leaving something calmer but just as determined.
That night we called Emilio and told him about Reeves's visit. He took notes, asked questions, and promised to be ready when the charges came.
"It'll happen fast once he files," Emilio said. "Arrest warrants, arraignment, bail hearings. But I'll be there for all of it. Both of you. We'll fight this together."
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank me yet. We have a long road ahead." He paused. "But for what it's worth? I think you two are going to make it through this. You're both fighters. And you have each other."
After the call, Luca and I went to bed early, both exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the day. We lay tangled together in the darkness, neither of us quite ready to sleep.
"Do you regret it?" Luca asked quietly. "Choosing this? Choosing me?"
"No." I didn't hesitate. "I don't regret it. I'm scared, but I don't regret it."
"Good. Because I don't regret you either. Best thing that ever happened to me, even if the beginning was fucked up."
"Especially because the beginning was fucked up. We built something real from something dark. That matters."
"It does." He kissed the top of my head. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow we start preparing for war."
"War with the FBI. Sounds fun."
"Sounds like hell. But at least we're facing it together."
"Together," I agreed.
We fell asleep holding each other, both knowing the storm was coming but also knowing we'd weather it as long as we had each other.