29. Aurora
Chapter 29
Aurora
I t’s been two weeks since Romeo told me he would find out what happened to my mom. Each day has been more tortuous than the last.
It’s taken everything in me to not ask him for an update whenever I see him. The rational side of me knows that when he has news, he’ll tell me, but the desperate side of me… well, I’ve voiced my question a million times in my mind.
To keep myself busy, I’ve immersed myself in sketching, spending hour upon hour in the garden with my pad from sunrise to sunset. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Tonight, after sitting across from him for an entire hour as I forced myself to eat, I excused myself and escaped to our room to run myself a bath. Haven handed me a magazine with sympathy shining in her eyes and I’ve spent an hour in the tub, hoping it will distract me. But all I’ve come away with is wrinkled skin and a rundown on New York’s most eligible bachelors, which Massimo is apparently one of.
Romeo strides into the room as I’m walking out of the bathroom, rubbing lavender-scented lotion into my hands. He shrugs out of his jacket, throwing it on the end of the bed before he starts to unbutton his shirt. I watch him from my spot in the doorway, leaning against the frame. When he turns to face me, his eyes flit down my body, and a welcome heat blooms in my core. My eyes drop to the ink swirling on his chest as he pulls the fabric apart. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of staring at him . The thought surprises me and I push it down, forcing my attention away from his body and to my hands.
“Massimo reached out to a contact at the police station. They pulled the file on your mother’s death and spoke to the detective in charge.”
Ignoring the fluttering in my stomach, I move toward him, trying in vain to keep the eagerness from my tone. “And?”
When he speaks, there's a hint of hesitation in his voice. “They provided us with the name and address of the person who called it in. I sent Daniele to check it out today.”
My eyes grow wide and I blow out a breath. “What did they say?” Oh God, what if they’re dead too? Desperation coats my words as they rush from my lips. “Did he find them?”
Standing in nothing but his slacks, with his buckle undone, Romeo holds his hand out for me. I go to him without question. He cups my face with a large, warm palm, his thumb stroking the curve of my cheek in a gesture that is far too intimate and caring. There’s an emotion swirling in the depths of his inky-blue eyes that I can’t quite name. I don’t know how we got here, to a place where being affectionate with each other was normal.
“He found him.” He pauses and I’m glad he does because his next words are like a punch to the face. “She didn’t kill herself, Aurora.”
Air rushes past my lips and my legs give way, but Romeo’s right there, banding a strong arm around my waist, pinning me to his chest. Instinctively, I wrap myself around him, burying my face in the thick column of his throat. “What exactly did they say?” I murmur softly.
Romeo sits us on the edge of the bed, dropping his hands to my thighs and smoothing the exposed skin. “There was a man on the bridge that night with a woman that matched your mother’s description. They couldn’t see his face but said he held a gun and forced her to climb over the railings.”
A sob gets lodged in my throat. She must have been terrified . “They—they made her jump?” My voice sounds foreign on my own ears.
Sincerity coats his words when he confirms, “I’m so sorry, Aurora. It looks that way.”
How could a person be so cruel?
On edge and with so many emotions vying for first place, I try to climb out of Romeo’s lap, but he only tightens his grip. Tears tumble down my cheeks, falling with abandon onto his smooth inked skin and my nails dig into his biceps as each sob hammers home the reality. I’m furious with myself for showing any weakness and grief-stricken that my mom was forced to end her own life. But somewhere in the depths of my soul, I also feel a sense of relief that I was right. That I knew her.
Where do I go from here? How do I get justice for my mom when I don’t know this world? Will Romeo help me or am I on my own in trying to figure this out?
Each unspoken question falls away unanswered. I might not know what happens now, but I do know that I won’t rest until the person responsible for my mom’s death is found. Inhaling deeply, I thrust out my chest and force my emotions down. I don’t want to be dragged into the darkness again, not yet.
Romeo swipes his thumb over my cheeks, and I suck in a shaky breath, blowing it out as I shift my gaze to the space between us. I’m hyperaware of the way I’m straddling him and the gentleness he’s shown when we both know that he shouldn’t.
A heaviness hangs in the air when our heated eyes meet. It’s filled with a need that’s always present whenever we’re together. He hasn’t touched me since the day I attacked him, and I would be remiss if I didn’t admit to missing the feel of his hands on my body. Hell, I’ve missed the way he fills me, but most of all, I miss the way he devours me afterward, like I’m his favorite meal.
My eyes flare a fraction before I blink rapidly to clear the surprise from them. How has this happened? How has Romeo Bianchi come to mean something to me?
I see nothing but heat and a hint of compassion in his expression. He doesn’t realize how deeply he’s rooted himself into my soul. God, he’s given me a reason to want to wake up each morning, and that is far more dangerous than anything he could have threatened to do.
I want to tell him how much I care for him, but the fear of rejection holds me back. Instead, we move in sync, doing the one thing we’re best at. Romeo drags his thumb under the hem of my bathrobe, pushing the fabric further up my thigh. I move my hands up his arms, smoothing them over his shoulders and into the hair at the nape of his neck.
In the blink of an eye, our mouths crash together, teeth clashing and tongues tangling. In one smooth movement, Romeo slides a hand around my throat, holding onto my thigh with the other as he flips our positions so that my back is pressed into the mattress and he’s hovering above me.
Pulling away, he rests his forehead on mine, dragging his hand down the center of my chest before undoing the knot of my robe. “Tell me what you want, Aurora.” His voice is throaty and authoritative, sending a ripple of need racing down my spine.
“I want you. I need you, Rome,” I plead.
Romeo rocks his hips into me, lifting my thigh higher on his waist to grant him greater access. I throw my head back, pushing my chest out and exposing the expanse of my throat.
I pull him into me and cup his face, ghosting my lips over his as I try to tell him how I feel without saying the words. Silently pleading with him to feel the same way.
He pulls away, searching my eyes, and for a moment, I’m afraid I’ve given away too much. The intensity of his gaze bores into me and I look away, needing him not to see any more than I’ve already shown him for one night.
I need to feel him .
To feel something good, in the midst of all of this heartache and pain.
My hands make light work of pushing his slacks and underwear down. Romeo kicks them off and they land with a dull thud on the carpeted floor.
Wrapping my fingers around his cock, I drag my hand up and down the length of him. Air hisses through his clenched teeth when I swipe my thumb over the pre-cum leaking from the tip.
“Be careful, Aurora. Or this will be over much sooner than you’d like,” he grinds out.
Dusting kisses over his jaw, I breathe, “I just want to feel you inside of me, filling me to perfection.”
My words must set off something inside him because he pulls away, turns me on my side, and positions his body behind mine. Lifting my leg, he runs the tip of his cock through my slit, coating his head in my juices before slowly easing inside. Muffled groans fall from my lips and into the comforter. My body stretches around him, welcoming the intrusion. Why does he feel so good inside of me?
When he’s seated, he bands an arm around my torso and pulls me into his chest before resting his chin on my shoulder and gently rocking his hips. With him wrapped around me, I feel safe, even as he stokes the fire of desire inside of me. I moan loudly at the torturous feel of him.
It's both not enough and exactly what I need, leaving me feeling frustrated and needy.
Romeo’s lips touch the shell of my ear, his breath hot and his words hushed. “You take my cock so well, mia amato .”
My mind is foggy and his praise barely penetrates the haze. Every nerve ending in my body is coming alive with each gloriously deep and methodical stroke. How does he have the power to control my body like this?
The hand on the arm he’s using to keep my leg raised starts slow, torturous ministrations on my clit. I dig my nails into his thigh, my hips rocking with him, urging him on.
Breathlessly, I moan, “Rome, please.”
“Please, what, bellissima ?” he growls.
“More, I need more.”
Romeo burrows his nose into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. The arm banded around my body squeezes me tighter and he murmurs Italian words that I don't understand. I hold onto the hope that maybe he's feeling just as consumed by this as I am. The low rasp in his voice and the way he sounds almost pained to be saying whatever it is he’s saying only turns me on more.
Keeping a steady pace, Romeo cups one breast, rolling my hard, achy nipple between his fingers. With the attention he's paying to my clit added in, I don't know how much longer I can hold back from coming undone. I’m on the edge of losing all control, the tingling at the base of my spine forewarning what’s to come.
His tone is biting when he grinds out, “I can feel your greedy little pussy trying to milk my cock. Don't you dare come until I say you can, Aurora.”
There’s a hint of warning in his tone, but I don’t heed it and even if I wanted to, my body betrays me. “I can't hold back. It's too much.” I barely get the words out before I explode. My vision blurs and my body tenses before white spots fill the darkness and my eyes flutter closed.
Romeo growls, biting my shoulder. The pain barely penetrates the haze of euphoria that's blanketing me. My entire body trembles, the aftershocks too much to handle.
A groove forms between my brows when Romeo pulls out and stands from the bed. There’s a distinct lack of wetness between my legs and a weight settles onto my chest as I stare up at the ceiling. I was so caught up in my own orgasm and how only he can make me feel that I didn't consider his release.
Leaning on my elbows, I nibble my bottom lip. Romeo turns away from me and I watch him inhale and exhale, the muscles of his back contracting and releasing. When he turns back to me, he grabs my ankles and forcefully tugs me to the end of the bed. I gasp at the roughness of his touch; a direct contrast to the care he’s shown up until this point.
He spreads my legs, standing between them and pushing them even further open at the knees. His cock juts proudly and he grips the base, running it through my slit. I shake at the contact as he glides it over my clit before lining up with my entrance.
Teasing me, he eases in half an inch. “Are you ready?”
I nod, not fully aware of what I'm agreeing to, but if it's more of him, I will always be ready.
Satisfied with my response, Romeo repositions my legs to rest against his chest and circles his arms around my thighs. He holds me, my ass hovering off the bed before he slams into me. Inhaling sharply, I fist the sheets in each hand and hold on. Every thrust reminds me of his size, the stinging sensation only heightening my arousal.
“I told you not to come, Aurora. Clearly, I shouldn't have…” He pauses, searching for the right word. “ Fatto l'amore .” His eyes darken.
When he moves again, his thrusts are punishingly painful, but I still feel the familiar winding in my core as he stokes the flames.
Within a handful of jerky, skin-slapping thrusts, I'm racing toward the edge of release again , my walls spasming around him.
“Don't you fucking dare.”
Romeo throws one of my legs to the side and slaps my pussy. The pain is unexpected, and for a moment, it distracts me from the ecstasy I was seeking. Thrusting with jerky and uncontrolled movements, he races after his own release as I fight to keep mine at bay.
“I can’t hold back,” I cry.
His heavy pants and my breathy moans fill the room, ricocheting off the walls and colliding with the sound of our skin slapping together. It doesn’t matter if anyone can hear us. Nothing else matters more than this moment.
“Come,” Romeo roars.
He stills as I relax my body and give in to the orgasm that I’ve been teetering on the edge of. Blindly, I reach for him, dragging my fingers down his stomach as my walls contract and he fills me with his release.
My body goes limp and when he pulls out, his focus drops to the space between my legs. I can imagine what he’s seeing because I can feel it—our combined release seeping from my pussy. He drags a thumb over my entrance, pushing the liquid back inside, and I close my eyes. Despite my sensitivity, I still luxuriate in the feel of his hands on my most intimate parts.
His eyes meet mine and he sucks his thumb clean before holding his hand out for me. There’s a softness in his tone when he speaks. “Come, let’s go get cleaned up. It’s been a long couple of days.”
His words are a reminder of another question that has been plaguing me for weeks. I don’t have the will to voice it, worried that if I asked him how long I’ll be kept here, he will shut me out. Or worse yet, take it as me wanting to leave when, in fact, I’m not sure that I do anymore.