Chapter 31
Imogen
I’m wrapped in the security of Rico’s arms as we sit in the warm bathwater. My fingers lazily trail along his forearm as he does the same.
His legs are on either side of mine, my back flush against his chest and his chin sitting atop of my head.
Somehow it feels more intimate than the intense sex we had just moments before.
But as I stare ahead I can’t help but think of the scars he bears. How someone could do something so malicious.
“You’ve gone stiff,” he notes lowly. “Is something wrong? Are you in pain?”
“No, I’m not in any real pain.” I’m quick to ease his mind with the clarity he seeks.
“But something is troubling you,” he surmises. Demanding an answer he asks, “What are you thinking about?”
I contemplate broaching the subject once more. He’s already evaded the question earlier. And as much as I want to pry I also know he’s set a boundary. “Nothing,” I lie.
He grasps my chin between his fingers and tips my head back to force me to look up at him.
God is he criminally beautiful. From his prominent cheekbones to his roguish lips and aristocratic nose. The sheen of water only enhances his features. I sigh in appreciation. God really does have his favorites.
“You’re lying. Don’t lie to me. Being with you is the most honest I’ve been in my entire life. Don’t taint it with lies.”
My heart clenches. “That’s beautiful and sad.”
“But it’s the truth.” He skims his nose along mine and presses a sweet chaste kiss to my lips. “Now tell me.” There’s a hardened edge to his voice. He quickly softens it. “Please.”
“I was thinking about you,” I whisper.
His brows pinch. “What about me?”
I hesitate. Blowing out a breath I tell him, “I just wonder what life was like for you. If it was. . .kind.”
“Is life kind to anyone?”
“It’s harsher to some.”
He raises a brow. “And you believe I fall under the harsher category.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No,” he answers on an exhale. “You wouldn’t be.”
As he releases my chin I see the distance growing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t.” Grasping my hips he positions me on his lap.
“I asked and you answered honestly.” He sighs heavily.
A deep rooted trouble resides in the depths of his eyes.
“The world and I have decided a long time ago that I don’t quite fit.
” There’s an undertone of sorrow in words that I don’t think he recognizes.
I run my hands aimlessly over his chest, soothing him as I approach the question carefully. “Do you want to fit in?”
I feel his muscles tense beneath me. Offering more comfort I place a feather light kiss to his collarbone. Then another to the hollow of his throat. His fingers bury themselves deeper in my hips.
He breathes, “I don’t know.”
The strings of my heart pull. To want to be seen but not know how. I frame his face tenderly in my hands. “Do you ever tire of feeling lonely?”
“To be frank I’ve never understood how I felt. I just knew whenever it was too much or overwhelming that I. . .” He struggles to find the words.
“You did what, Rico?”
His lips twitch. “Isolated. It’s the only way I could deal with it all. And when the maelstrom within me settled I could breathe again.”
My brows furrow. “But what about your Famiglia? Don’t they understand you? Accept you?”
“I can be my truest self with Constantine to an extent,” he confesses. “In my eyes I’m working, it’s a performance. So when I’m in the comfort of my own home I can—”
“Take off the mask.”
“Metaphorically speaking - yes.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, la mia gazzella. None of it is your doing.”
“You do know it’s not yours either.” Silence greets me. “Please tell me you know that.”
“These scars you see,” he begins and I listen patiently.
“My father didn’t see me as you do. He saw someone he couldn’t possibly understand, someone who constantly disappointed him by simply being who I was and tried to fix me through violence.
So, you see, I grew my whole life believing my entire existence is wrong. And I know, Imogen.”
My heart splinters for the young boy who didn’t understand himself but only wanted to be loved and cared for. To be heard. To be seen.
“You know what, Rico?” I whisper, my aching heart in my throat.
“I know there’s something wrong with me. I know there’s no fixing it.”
I frame his face tenderly in my hands. “You can’t possibly believe just because your brain works differently than others that you need fixed.
” He averts his eyes. His lips form a grim line.
Tension radiates across his body. “Shadow, there’s nothing about you that needs fixing.
The world should be more accommodating. People should be more understanding.
And I’m sorry your pa made you believe otherwise.
You’re not the person he made you. I could kill him for what he’s done to you. ”
When his eyes return to mine they’re softer yet filled with pain. He traces my lips with the pad of his finger. Then the bridge of my nose and my brow bones. It’s as if he’s etching me to memory.
“Your empathy is rare and precious. The fact you are still capable of possessing it even after all that’s been done to you shows your character. And for you to believe I deserve it—”
“You do deserve it,” I state firmly. “Please believe me.”
A ghost of a smile appears on his face. “I’ve never believed in anything until you.”
I press a kiss to his lips in which he reciprocates. It’s a lazy exploration that stokes the flames of desire within me. I feel his cock twitch between us. His fingers then bury themselves in my hips. The bite of pain has him swallowing my moan.
When the kiss is done he presses another tender one to my now swollen lips. “You’re too irresistible for your own good. What will I ever do with you?”
I wink. “I can think of a few things.”
He chuckles. A light and airy sound. It warms my entire being. “And tell me what are these things you’re thinking of?”
“It may be too scandalous for your innocent ears,” I tease.
“Is that right?” He smirks. Without warning he notches his cock at my entrance. “Then do your best in defiling me.”
“My pleasure.” I grin.
And I do.
I take him hard and fast. Using his body as a tool for my own pleasure.
I leave claw marks and bites. His hands worship my body in awe as he sings his praises.
By the time we’re done the bath water has gone cold and we’ve turned to prunes.
But neither of us care. We stay in the bath a little while longer enjoying the embrace of one another.