68. Wynter
Wynter
B as had already lowered to his haunches in front of our bed, our faces close together.
For some reason the day he proposed to me came to mind. The day I broke my promise to him. After seeing his reaction to his father, I regretted not trusting him more. He deserved all my trust.
“He’s dead,” he said, a hint of vehemence showed through his every word. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
Relief slammed into me as I released a shuddering breath. “I should say I’m sorry,” I whispered. The truth was I wasn’t. Not in the least.
His face inched closer to me. “Why?”
“Because he was your father.”
His shoulders tensed and a growl vibrated in his chest. “He was a sadistic asshole. Never a father. He tortured both Emory and I with his cruelty. It should have never touched you.”
I reached out my palm. “It should have never touched you either,” I murmured softly. “Nor your sister. I should have never put his sins on you. Or at least given you a chance to explain. He scared me, and when I barely got out of it alive, I-”
Inhaling a shaky breath, I pondered the right words to tell him. I didn’t want to hurt him more. I told him the abbreviated version in the library.
As if he read my thoughts, he said, “Everything. Tell me all of it.”
I swallowed, hating those memories.
“When your father showed up unexpectedly, he offered me money. I refused. He convinced me you two were in it together. That you left on purpose to let him-” God, why was it so damn hard to say those words.
His forehead came to mine and there was so much pain in his gaze that it shattered my heart into a million pieces.
“Anyhow, he attacked, I fought back. It was a close call, but then I remembered your gun. I saw it when you gave me the necklace.”
My hand wrapped around my wrist, the bracelet always having that calming effect on me.
“He didn’t rape me, I swear,” I told him and a flicker of relief and something raw bled through every pore of him.
“But his words about my mom hurt just as bad,” I choked out.
“He didn’t think I’d shoot him. Then he started talking about my mom.
How he shot her in the knee and took her career away. My dad. How he killed him.”
“My brave woman,” he rasped while his gaze bore into mine. “You shot him in the knee.”
“Eye for an eye,” I breathed. “Though I wished so many times since then that I had just killed him.”
A quiet noise of anger crawled up his throat.
“Next time, though I’ll make sure there isn’t a next time, you come to me.
Not Sasha. Not your uncle. Me. ” Somehow with this man nearby, I didn’t think anyone would dare to come after me.
“I’ll always protect what’s mine. And you, Wynter Star DiLustro have been mine since you landed in my arms jumping off that balcony. ”
I averted my gaze, embarrassed that I was so stupid to believe a single word from Gio DiLustro.
"After all he told me, after what he tried to do..." I closed my eyes remembering that last day and a single tear trickled down my face. "It just seemed impossible to find my way back to you."
Silence was deafening and a heavy tension filled the space between us. A choked sob slipped through my lips. “I’m a shell of a woman without you, Bas.”
His palms cupped my cheek. “Look at me, principessa,” he demanded softly.
I opened my eyes and found his dark eyes intense on me.
“I want you ,” he rasped, his thumb gently brushing over my bottom lip.
“Only you. All your firsts and your lasts. I want to be your beginning and your end. Because you are mine. I’m a shell of a man without you.
Fuck your connections. Fuck your family. Just you and me.”
His lips brushed against mine. Sweet. Soft. All-consuming. It was the kind of kiss that could break your heart and mend it within the same breath.
“I have something for you,” he murmured against my lips.
Pulling slightly away from him, I regarded him curiously. “I saw all the shoes you kept,” I breathed.
He shook his head with amusement.
“I couldn’t bear to get rid of them, but it’s not the shoes.
” His nose brushed against mine. He pulled something out of his pocket.
He held a little velvet box in his hand.
“This is what I went to get that day.” He opened the box and the most gorgeous engagement ring sat in it.
Princess-cut diamond with tear shaped emeralds surrounding it. “It matches the wedding band.”
“You held on to it all this time?” I croaked as my heart raced in my chest, longing for him.
“I will always follow.” His palm brushed across my cheek and I leaned into his touch, soaking up his warmth. “A day without you is hell on this Earth. Promise me you’ll never leave.”
I pressed my lips to his, softly and possessively.
“I’ll never leave, Bas,” I rasped. I watched as he slid the ring on my finger. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”
These vows were ours. For our future. For our happiness.
He grabbed the hem of my nightgown and pulled it over my head, leaving me in only my thong. My skin burned with the need to feel him on me, inside me. His mouth crushed mine, devouring me. Deep and consuming. When I parted my lips, his tongue slid into my mouth and I moaned.
I burned like a match, needing him with desperation. He pushed his hand into my hair, fisting it as his lips left mine and trailed down my neck. He stood up and his weight settled on top of me. It felt so good, so right.
His one hand lifted my thigh and I wrapped my legs around his torso, his erection pressing between my legs. The ache between my legs throbbed and I arched up into him, grinding myself against him.
Desire burned, sparks flew and hearts glowed.
I tugged on his shirt and he paused to pull it over his head. Then his mouth was back on my skin, nipping at my breasts and all the while his hard cock grinding against my hot pussy.
I was delirious with need. Nine months without him was far too long. Now, I needed to overdose on him. I ground myself on his hard-on, desperate to get myself off. The friction between us was delicious, my greedy pussy clutching his shaft, needing him inside me.
The sound of shredding cut through the air. I didn’t care what he ripped or destroyed, as long as he kept fucking me.
Angling his cock into me, he felt hot and hard at my entrance. My muscles clenched, hungry for him, needing him with desperation.
“Bas,” I begged in a breathless voice.
“Beg for my cock, principessa,” he rasped, his mouth nipping at my earlobe.
I turned my head and his eyes seared through me. I grabbed his face, and pulled him closer.
“Please give me your cock,” I breathed. As he placed a scorching-hot kiss on my lips, he slid all the way in with one hard thrust. My body welcomed the intrusion, turning my blood hot. He thrust inside me in long, deep strokes. Hard and relentless.
“Fuck, I missed this,” he grunted, pounding his hard, thick shaft into me.
I clenched around his hard cock, my breath caught in my throat. The rush of feelings swarmed my body, taking every powerful thrust of his.
“So fucking good,” he praised, his voice guttural. Those three little words had me panting with crazed lust, on the verge of an orgasm.
My pussy and my insides had been molded to the shape of his cock, welcoming his intrusion. He was my missing puzzle piece. Whimpers and moans left my lips, his eyes bore into me with a crazed possessiveness.
“Ahhh, please,” I pleaded. Every inch of me was on fire.
He had to extinguish it. Each thrust of his widened and stretched me, bringing me closer to the pinnacle.
I’d never felt so deliciously full in my life as I did when Bas fucked me, relentlessly and hard.
My back arched off the bed, every thrust began to kindle a spark and spread from my clit outward.
My head thrashed against the pillow my neck exposed to him. I was so close, reaching for the stars. His big hand curled around my neck and with a slight squeeze, my body shattered. This was what I needed; his domination, this intensity.
A moan tore from my mouth, his name on my lips as my body exploded. An orgasm shuddered through me, overwhelming me. Heat pulsed through every fiber of me, tremors shaking my body.
When I came down, it was to Basilio’s dark gaze on me.
“Who fucks you?” he growled, resting his forehead against mine.
I shivered. “You.”
He’d get any admission from me after such an intense orgasm. “Who else?”
“Nobody else,” I breathed.
“Until my dying breath, just you and I,” he grunted.
“Yes,” I panted, a languid sensation rushing through my bloodstream. “Just you and I.”
Satisfaction rumbled in his chest. His thrusts shallowed, his muscles tensed and with a grunt, he spilled inside me, his own body shuddering.
“You feel amazing, principessa,” he purred, his breath hot against my skin. His thick cum trickled down my inner thigh and my chest swelled at the praise. “You are mine.”
I sighed with contentment.
Because Basilio DiLustro was mine.