Chapter Twenty-One
Stephanie
Honestly, I dozed in and out. Not because I didn’t absolutely love “While You Were Sleeping,” but because there was something undeniably comforting about being snuggled up with Venezio in bed without a single distraction from the outside world.
Each time I woke up, I found Venezio’s attention pinned to the TV and managed to be awake to watch him watch the final scene.
“What did you think?” I asked as the credits rolled.
“That was funnier than I was expecting from a movie based around someone in a coma on Christmas.”
“Jack and Lucy are one of my favorite TV show couples ever,” I said as the streaming service automatically started playing one of those low-budget made-for-TV Christmas movies. Which I also usually loved. But I couldn’t focus on them when Venezio’s hand was drifting up and down my side.
“Yeah, they handled the whole lie thing pretty well.”
“I think it’s because Jack understood why the lie kind of spiraled out of control.”
We weren’t talking about the movie, and we both knew it.
“I should go get the damn cord.”
“Or,” I said, turning my head up to look at him, “you could stay here with me.”
“And watch another Christmas movie?” he asked.
“Actually,” I said, moving to straddle him, “I was thinking something else.”
Venezio’s chest expanded wide as his hands went low on my hips. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, eyes warming.
“Mmhmm,” I agreed, leaning forward to press my lips into his neck. This time, when he sucked in a breath, I could feel the way it shook through his chest as my tongue found the pulse point in his neck.
His hands shifted up to press against the bare skin of my back, but he didn’t explore, didn’t try to take control.
My lips kissed a path upward to his earlobe. And when my teeth grazed it, a jolt moved through him.
I got the feeling that a man like Venezio wasn’t often the recipient of teasing. And I was all too happy to be the first to let him experience it. Even if my own need was a coiled sensation deep in my core that tightened with each passing second.
Venezio’s breath went quick and shallow as I kissed down his jaw, then across toward his other ear.
When my lips found their way to his, they were soft and explorative. And while every muscle in his body seemed tense, he didn’t try to deepen it. Even if his fingers were digging into my hips with the effort to rein in his desire to move things along.
I reached for the hem of his shirt, dragging it off and tossing it to the floor.
Then I continued to map his body with my lips and tongue, tracing the edges of tattoos, and kissing his scars.
Beneath me, his muscles tensed and twitched. His breath quickened.
His hands curled into fists at the sides of his body as I moved down his abdomen, and licked down the delicious V that disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
His hips rocked impatiently, but he didn’t press my head down.
I slid my hands over the tops of his thighs, briefly running my fingertips over the head of his cock before moving away.
I sat up and reached to pull off my shirt.
Only then did Venezio’s self-control fracture, making him sit up and reach out, his hands closing over my breasts, twirling, twisting, squeezing.
My own need had me shifting my hips until I felt the press of him at the juncture of my thighs.
Then I was moving, rocking, grinding down.
But before I could get any relief from the aching need, Venezio hooked me behind the knees and pulled hard, making me fly backward and land with a bounce and a gasp.
He was over me in a blink, holding his body off mine as he leaned down and ran his tongue down the shell of my ear.
“Two can play that game, babe,” he murmured, making my belly wobble.
“Except I’m gonna win,” he promised, nipping my earlobe and pulling as a shocked moan escaped me.
“Because before I’m done, you’re going to be panting,” he went on, kissing down my neck, “writhing, begging, and crying for release.”
Judging by the way desire was pinging off of every nerve ending, I had no doubt he was about to make good on that promise.
Not that I was objecting as his lips and tongue teased across my clavicle.
Pressure built and built as Venezio kissed across the top of my breasts, then down between, before gliding his tongue across the undersides.
My back arched.
My nipples twisted into tightened buds.
Goosebumps spread.
“Venezio,” I whimpered, fingers landing on the back of his neck.
I felt his lips curve into a smile against my skin before he kept moving, kept driving me up.
My chest felt heavy.
My muscles all went tense.
But Venezio kept his pace slow, his pressure gentle.
He circled his tongue around my navel, then slid to the side, kissing up my ribs. Then, finally, his lips closed around one of my nipples and sucked hard enough for me to see white, for my sex to clench hard.
His tongue circled.
His teeth grazed.
Then bit.
My whole body jerked, and a strange, strangled moan escaped me at the white-hot pain-pleasure.
He continued the torment until I was panting, until I was pressing my thighs tightly together to try to ease the ache building between.
He moved back down my belly, then traced the waistband with his tongue.
He didn’t stop there, though.
His fingers drew down the material inch by inch.
My overheated skin met the cooler air, making a shiver rack my system as Venezio tossed my pants off the bed.
Then he reached for my legs, placing my feet gently on his chest.
I immediately didn’t trust the wicked little smirk he shot me. Rightly, I might add, as his lips pressed to the inside of my ankle.
He went up one calf, then down the other, completely ignoring my little whimpers, the way my hips were writhing restlessly.
Only when he kissed the inside of the other ankle did he lift my legs, placing them on each of his shoulders, spreading me for him.
But if I thought it was to allow him to yank down his pants and slide deep inside me to give me what my body was crying out for, I was very mistaken.
It was his hand that moved between us.
My breath stuttered as I felt the tip of a finger near my clit. But Venezio wasn’t going to make it that easy for me. He teased around until I was rocking, trying to get the friction my body was aching for.
As soon as I found that, though, his fingers slid downward, then inside me.
A low, deep moan escaped me as his fingers started to thrust. Slow and deep.
Even if it wasn’t the fast, frantic pace I was craving, the pressure built slowly but surely until my walls were tightening as I got closer to that edge.
Before I could crash over it, though, his fingers were sliding over me.
“Not yet,” he said. A pained cry escaped me. In response, Venezio’s eyes went molten as he slapped my pussy, making pain and pleasure mingle and dragging a strangled sound out of my throat. “You started it,” he reminded me as he lowered down, his tongue sliding up my ankle, calf, knee, and thigh.
Then his lips and tongue were on me.
I knew he was not going to let me come.
But I couldn’t seem to help but sink into the sensations, to hyper-focus on his tongue circling my clit as the pressure built and built.
Just when I thought even the edging might be enough to take me over the finish line, though, Venezio’s tongue moved away, sliding downward, then curling and thrusting inside me.
In the end, he got his way.
Of course he did.
“Venezio, please,” I begged, my hips writhing.
He pulled back and sat up to look down at me, his gaze heated but victorious.
“Please what?” he asked, hands rubbing up and down my thighs.
“Please fuck me. Please,” I said again as frustrated tears pricked my eyes.
He scooted back off the bed, then grabbed my hip and turned me onto my belly.
I lost him for just a few seconds as I heard the crinkle of the foil as he protected us.
Then the mattress depressed as he climbed on behind me. His hands were on my hips, yanking me backward by them. He massaged one of my cheeks for a second before I finally—finally—felt the press of him against me.
I sucked in a breath that released on a cry as he slammed deep inside me.
There was no more teasing then.
We were both too overstimulated, too close to the edge.
Venezio fucked me hard and fast, my moans mingling with his ragged breathing, his clipped curses.
“That’s it,” he ground out. “Come for me.”
Then I did.
And he did.
And we both collapsed onto the bed—me on my belly, him on his back—panting and thrumming and boneless.
I couldn’t say how long we stayed just like that. Time no longer existed in this little world we were living in. And I was in no rush to get it back. To go back to real life.
I knew that each hour holed up in the safe house meant less time for the charity, for my work, for my friends.
I couldn’t make myself care less.
For just this once, I was going to be selfish and get what I wanted.
I would consider it my Christmas gift to myself.
Venezio exhaled hard, and I knew the moment was over.
“You’re going.”
“You make it sound like I’m fucking leaving the country,” he said, sliding to the edge of the bed to gather his clothes. “I’m just gonna pop into the bodega to see if they have a cord.”
With that, he went into the bathroom.
Alone, I flipped onto my back, staring up at the ceiling and blinking away the sudden wetness in my eyes.
It was silly.
But I knew that everything was going to change once his phone was charged and we were in contact with the world again.
Venezio made his way back out a moment later, fully dressed, his stride no-nonsense until he spotted me.
“Fuck,” he sighed to himself.
His gaze tracked up and down me. Once. Twice. I saw the conflict on his handsome features. But as his shoulders slumped, I knew he had made his decision.
“You stay just like that. I’ll be back in ten. Less.”
Then he was walking out.
I listened to the door close.
Only then did I fold up, sucking in a steadying breath and climbing off the bed to grab my clothes. Because I knew better. Once the phone was plugged in, it would power up. Then he’d be making phone calls and plans. It was all almost over.
I stopped in the closet, digging around in all the bagged clothing and shoes until I found a pair of thick women’s slippers, hoping they would ease the ache in my soles, then made my way into the bathroom.
I took time putting myself together—brushing my hair, then pulling it back, swishing mouthwash, getting into the clothes and the slippers that were only half a size too big and felt like stepping on clouds, even with my aching feet.
I’d just flicked off the light and moved into the bedroom when I heard the doorknob jiggling.
“That was fast,” I mumbled to myself, pretending to ignore how much my heart ached, knowing that we were mere moments away from everything changing.
There was another jiggle, making my brows pinch.
Had he locked himself out?
I took a step into the hallway.
But then there was a crash that had my heartbeat stammering, had my spine stiffening.
Sure, it could have been Venezio, arms full of food or drinks from the bodega, just trying to balance it all as he tried to put his finger in the scanner.
But my blood felt like it went cold as there was another crash, and I realized the door was jumping in its frame.
Someone was trying to break in.
I didn’t stop to think.
I wasn’t that stupid.
I backtracked into the room, closing the door just as the one in the living room burst open.
Then there he was.
I slammed and locked the bedroom door and ran into the bathroom, slamming and locking that as well.
I could wait.
Venezio wouldn’t be long.
But what if he’d already found Venezio?
What if he was hurt?
Bleeding?
My stomach twisted.
No, I couldn’t wait.
If he wasn’t hurt, I could get to him first, warn him. We still had time to get away.
I slammed my palms into the stuck window jam. When it loosened, I shoved it upward, breathing in the city air for the first time in hours—car exhaust and a hint of burnt coffee.
The fire escape was rickety and rust-bitten.
But it meant freedom.
I hauled myself out of the window, slamming it shut after me as I heard the bedroom door give way to the intruder.
My slipper-clad feet slipped, sending me crashing onto my ass on the icy metal.
“Ow,” I whimpered, forcing myself to get up, using my sleeves for purchase on the slippery sides of the fire escape as I made my way downward, slipping every so often, but managing not to fall again.
The bottom ladder was missing as I got to the end of the platforms, though, and my stomach clenched realizing I was going to have to drop, to risk breaking something.
There was a roar in the room above me.
And with that, I let go.
I landed in a squat, my knees aching, but nothing seemed injured.
I rushed around the building, yanking open the bodega door and finding three or four people perusing the goods.
There was Venezio standing at the counter with two coffees and a little plastic case with a charging cord in it.
“Venezio!” I yelled.
His head whipped over.
He didn’t ask.
He didn’t have to.
He just ran to me, grabbed my hand, and we were off.