Chapter 14
RENZO
The air in the bedroom is thick with the kind of tension that makes my skin prickle, my pulse thrumming in my ears like a warning.
Her dark eyes flash, and her chest rises and falls with sharp, uneven breaths.
She’s still wound tight, ready to snap – and fuck if that doesn’t make my cock twitch in my pants.
I head for the bed and take dirty, immense pleasure in tossing her onto it, watching her bounce on the thick bedding.
My arm throbs – a fucking reminder of my own stupidity. The pain is a dull pulse now, manageable, but the way she keeps glancing at it – like she’s afraid I’ll shatter if she breathes too hard – grates on my nerves. I’m not fragile. And I sure as hell am not about to let her treat me like I am.
‘You going to simmer down now?’ I ask, my voice low, rough with the kind of command that usually makes her bristle or obey.
She freezes mid-bounce, her back stiffening like I’ve just thrown a match into gasoline. Slowly, she turns, lips parted, cheeks flushed with the kind of anger that always burns hottest right before it turns into something else. Something hungrier.
‘Are you going to make more threats?’ she snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut.
I smirk, letting my gaze drag over her – the way her thin shirt clings to her breasts, the way her nipples are already tight beneath the fabric, betraying her.
‘Threats? No, baby, those were diamond-hard promises. Like your nipples are right now.’
The words hang between us, heavy and filthy, and her breath hitches.
‘There’s still time to do the right thing. Your choice, amore.’
For a second she just stares at me, chest heaving, fingers curling into fists at her sides. Then – like a storm breaking – she lunges. Her palms slam against my chest, shoving me back a step, and I let her – just for a second – before my good arm snaps around her waist, hauling her against me.
She gasps as her thighs straddle my hips, her heat pressing right against the bulge straining against my pants.
‘Stop, Renzo,’ she hisses, but her fingers are already tangling in my hair, yanking hard enough to make my scalp sting. ‘Your arm—’
‘Is fine,’ I growl, cutting her off. My hand slides up her back to grip the nape of her neck, forcing her closer. ‘And you don’t get to tell me to take care of myself when you won’t take care of yourself.’
Her lips crash onto mine before I even finish speaking, her kiss all teeth and tongue, desperate and furious.
She groans into my mouth as her hips grind down against me, and I can feel how wet she already is, even through the layers of fabric.
My free hand slides down, palming her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her whimper.
‘You drive me mad,’ she murmurs against my lips, her voice rough, her breath hot.
‘Good,’ I rasp back, my cock throbbing, my control fraying. ‘It’s only fair. You’ve been driving me crazy since we met.’
She pulls back just enough to glare at me, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with need. ‘Tell me how we met.’
I chuckle, low and dark, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. ‘Later.’ My voice drops to a growl. ‘I need to fuck you now.’
Her answer is a sharp, needy sound, her nails digging into my shoulders as I straighten, lifting her with me like she weighs nothing.
She wraps her legs around my waist, her skirt riding up, her panties – fuck, are those even there?
– already damp against my stomach. I don’t bother checking.
I don’t need to. I can smell her, sweet and musky, and it makes my mouth water.
She’s trembling, her fingers fumbling with my belt, her movements frantic.
‘Easy,’ I murmur, but she’s not listening. She yanks my zipper down, her small hand wraps around my cock, and I hiss at the contact, my hips jerking forward involuntarily. She strokes me once, twice, swipes her thumb over the slick head, and I groan, my grip on her ass tightening.
‘Enough,’ I growl, and then I’m dragging her to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide to step between them.
I don’t give her time to react. I’m on my knees in front of her before she can even catch her next breath, my hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her dress’s hem up to her hips.
Her panties are gone – did I tear them off or just lose them in the frenzy?
– and her pussy is right there, glistening, swollen, begging for my mouth.
I don’t tease or take my time. I’m a little anxious and a lot ravenous for another taste of her tight cunt, so I bury my face between her thighs, my tongue dragging through her folds, and she cries out, her back arching off the bed, her fingers spearing into my hair.
She tastes like defiance, heat, and fucking life itself, and I lap at her greedily, my lips sealing around her clit, sucking hard. Her thighs clamp around my head and her hips buck hard as her moans fill the room, high and broken and exquisite.
‘Renzo—’
I growl against her, revel in the vibrations making her shudder as her nails scrape against my scalp. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them, finding that sweet spot that makes her whole body jerk, her walls clenching around me.
She’s soaking, dripping, her juices coating my chin, and I can’t get enough. I add a third finger, stretching her, fucking her with my hand while my tongue works her clit, and she’s loud, much louder than she was last night, thank fuck, and her cries turning desperate, her thighs trembling.
‘I’m com… coming,’ she gasps, her voice raw. ‘Renzo, I’m—’
I pull back just enough to growl, ‘Not yet. If you’re going to be a brat, you wait until I give you permission to come,’ I rasp before diving back in, my fingers pistoning inside her, my mouth relentless.
She whines, her body tightening, her pleasure coiling tighter and tighter, but I don’t let her tip over. Not yet. I want her begging. I want her shattered.
Maybe then she’ll rest and I can fucking think straight.
So when I feel her getting close and I pull away, her pussy is a mess, her thighs slick with her arousal, her chest heaving. She glares at me for leaving her hanging, her lips parted and her eyes glazed. ‘You bastard.’
I grin, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
My cock aches like a motherfucker and my control hangs by a thread. But I’m seeing this through even if it kills me.
‘Up, turn,’ I order, and she obeys, rolling onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air, her back arching like an offering. I stand and kick off my pants.
I smirk when I catch her eyes on the way my cock juts out, thick and leaking. The way she licks her lips.
Yesterday she was a devout nun in training.
Today she’s frantic for Salvatore cock.
What a wonderful life.
I step forward, not bothering with finesse. I grip her hips and drive into her in one rough thrust, her tight, wet heat squeezing, then swallowing me whole.
‘Oh God!’ she screams, her fingers clawing at the sheets as her body rocks forward with the force of my possession.
I don’t stop or give her time to adjust.
‘What did I say about that?’ I pull back and slam into her again, my hips snapping against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.
Maledezione, she’s perfect, so fucking tight, her walls milking me, her moans turning into a steady stream of incoherent pleas.
‘Harder,’ she gasps instead of answering, and dammit, it’s the headiest feeling in the world so of course, I oblige, my grip on her hips bruising and my thrusts punishing.
I reach up and yank the knot in her hair, then groan as the dark strands spill free, then fist my hand in it, pulling her head back to expose the line of her throat. She moans, the sound deep and needy, and her body arches into me.
‘You’re mine,’ I rasp, my voice a guttural snarl, my release coiling tight in my gut. Her pussy clenches around me in sublime response as her body trembles, and I know she’s close again. ‘Say it.’
‘Yours,’ she sobs, her voice breaking, her walls fluttering around my cock. ‘Renzo, I’m yours, just – please—’
I let go, bottom out inside her and she screams as my own orgasm hits me like a freight train.
My cock pulses deep inside her as I come, my hips stuttering, my grip on her hair tightening.
She cries out as her own release crashes over her. I clamp her tight against me with my good arm as she milks every last drop from my balls.
When I can no longer stay upright, I collapse against her back, chest heaving, forehead pressed between her shoulder blades as my seed drips out of her, marking her.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our ragged breaths, the scent of sex thick in the air. Then, slowly, her hand reaches back, her fingers brushing against mine where they still grip her.
I lace our fingers together, trace my thumb over her knuckles as the tension in the room shifts and softens into something quieter. Something unspoken.
Something that terrifies me.
* * *
Giada
‘More sex or the best gelato this side of Florence?’
A low voice rumbles against my ear, followed by warm hands smoothing my sex-tangled hair away from my face. I blink my eyes open, the afternoon light slanting across the bedroom like a lazy blessing – or a warning.
Renzo is leaning over me, smug and satisfied and sinfully beautiful, the type of man who shouldn’t look real this close. Not after what we just did. Not after the things I let myself do. Not after the way I came undone under him… twice.
My body aches in new, wondrous ways. My mind aches more.
I rebelled.
Truly rebelled.
Not just in small, internal ways the way I have for years, with quiet doubts, fleeting questions, the occasional uncharitable thought I repented for immediately. No. This time I acted. This time I said no. Pushed and grabbed and demanded things.
Things no novice on the brink of final vows should even think, let alone do.
But instead of feeling consumed by guilt, what blooms in me is something terrifyingly close to relief.