Chapter 32
Salvario
I unlock the door and push it open. She steps inside, eyes roaming. Bruno follows, Rosie still on his back. I lock up behind us. He trots in and deposits her on the carpet.
“It’s small and cozy,” she says, glancing around.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Water.”
I remove my jacket and toss it onto the couch, then head for the kitchen. She trails behind me. I fill a glass and hand it to her. She accepts it, lifting it to her lips. My gaze slides between her eyes and the place where her mouth meets the rim.
“Hungry?” The word comes out rough.
She shakes her head and steps closer.
“Why don’t you show me around?” Her voice has gone thin, strained.
“There’s not much to see.” I hold her gaze.
She parts her lips, but I press my finger to them.
“This is the living room.”
I pull off my gloves, then reach for the zipper of her jacket. She smiles.
“It’s warm in here. Can I leave my jacket?”
I slip it off her shoulders.
“Sure.”
I set it on the counter.
Then I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom door. “And this,” I say, opening it and stepping aside, “is my bedroom.”
I close the door behind us, grab the back of her neck, and pull her into me—crashing my mouth to hers. She parts her lips, and we meld together, her mouth moving against mine.
I tilt her face, sucking the soft fullness of her lips from all sides. I feast on her lips hungrily, my teeth and lips careful not to bite too hard. She matches my frenzy, sucking and biting, our breaths tangled and racing until we can’t breathe.
I place my other hand on her back and draw her up, holding her tightly against me. My dick throbs and twitches against her pelvis. The hunger isn’t fading; it’s only growing. I want to consume her completely. Devour her. Merge with her until there’s no telling where I end and she begins.
I slide my tongue into her mouth. She pulls me down harder, her fingernails scraping against my scalp.
Her tongue strokes mine. I groan into her mouth, sucking her lower lip harder. She moans, grinding against me. The pressure in my balls tightens, my cock straining as if ready to shatter.
She pulls back. I let her.
“I’m about to faint.” Her voice is breathless. “This is too much.” Then she kisses me again.
I kiss her back with ferocious hunger. I lift her, carry her to the bed, and don’t leave her lips for a single second.
Our lips separate only briefly as I lay her down, shift over her, support myself on my elbows, and continue kissing her.
I can’t let her go. I can’t want her less.
I want more. More contact. There can’t be even a whisper of space between her body and mine.
Between her heart and mine. Her soul and mine.
I need to possess this woman, who possesses me so completely, so violently, that there’s nothing left of me to call my own.
I catch the hem of her sweatshirt and push it up. I shift upward. She lifts her head, refusing to break the kiss, then falls back—breathless, flushed, beautiful. I pull the sweatshirt over her head and toss it aside. Her breasts are bare to my gaze.
“So fucking beautiful.”
I cover them with my palms, squeezing. She moans. I roll her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, gently at first, then with more pressure. She claps a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.
“Don’t, Princess.” I utter softly against her neck. “I need to hear this melody, too.”
I press my lips to her soft skin, and she tilts her head to the side, offering more. I trail kisses up the column of her throat, all the way to her earlobe.
I leave her breasts, her neck, and move lower. I hook my fingers into the waistband of her joggers and pull. A white lace panty covers her. I pull that down, too. My mouth waters at the sight of her glistening pussy.
“Can you—” She swallows. “Can you be quick?” Her voice is a shaky exhale.
I shift off the bed, kick off my shoes, and strip away my socks, my pants, and my briefs.
She gulps, her eyes dropping to my cock.
Her lips part. I move over her again, covering her mouth—swollen, pink, parted—with another hungry kiss.
She locks her arms around my neck and parts her legs.
I settle between them, pushing them wider.
I shift up, take myself in hand, and drag the length of me through her slick heat. The tip coats itself in her warm juices. Every time I brush against that tight bud at her apex, she shudders, a broken sound falling from her lips.
I press the head of my cock against her entrance.
“Push it in.” The words come out on a shiver.
I push the tip inside. Her wetness welcomes me, but she’s so tight. I lower my face to hers and push deeper.
Her face scrunches.
“Push it deeper. All at once.”
I do. She cries out, her body trembling like a leaf. Tears slip from the corners of her eyes. And I freeze.
The memory pulls me into my mind, away from reality.
She’s crying in pain, her face streaked with tears. I’m in pain too—so much pain. The longer he moves inside me, the worse it gets. I’m crying, begging him to stop. They laugh. But he leaves me lying there on my stomach. The wounds on my chest burn, but it’s nothing compared to the other pain.
She’s still crying—two men are torturing her. I shout at them to stop. Alberto comes at me again and slaps me. He pins me to the floor, and the pain returns.
Elowen
“Salvario.” I call his name louder, patting his cheek.
He’s muttering in Italian between sobs. One of them sounds like please. The rest I can’t grasp. His whole body tremors. His face contorts, as if he’s trapped in unbearable pain.
“Salvario. Please open your eyes.” I whisper it against his skin, my tears falling onto his face.
“Salvario.” I cry as I shake him. “Open your eyes, please. You’re frightening me.”
His breathing is failing—he’s suffocating. Panic surges through me. I scramble off the bed and bolt for the bathroom. I scan for something to hold water. Nothing.
My eyes land on a towel. I grab it, soak it under the tap, and sprint back to him. I squeeze the water from it onto his neck. It works. His eyes snap open, and he sits up abruptly.
I drop the towel on the floor and climb back onto the bed, wrapping myself around him. I press my naked front to his clothed chest, needing to feel him breathe.
“I was so scared.” The words muffle against his shoulder, wet and broken.
He hugs me back, pulls me onto his lap, and buries his face in my neck. He doesn’t speak. He just holds me like that until the shaking stops.
I slowly pull back to look at his face. It’s blank. His eyes are vacant, devoid of any emotion.
I cup his face in my hands. “Will you tell me?”
“They raped me and my mother.” The words are as empty as his eyes.
I hug him again. Breathing has become so difficult my lungs ache under the pressure. A loud sob bursts from me.
He pulls back and holds my crumpled, tear-streaked face.
“Don’t cry, Princess,” he breathes.
“My chest hurts.” The words hiccup out of me between sobs.
The pain won’t stop. It’s his—bleeding through me, suffocating me.
I press my face into his neck again. He holds me there.
After a long time, I finally get a grip on myself.
“Where are they?” I whisper.
“Nowhere. They’re all dead. Without graves.”
“You killed them?”
He hums in acknowledgment.
“But you’re still not free of it.” My voice weakens further.
“It won’t leave me.”
I pull back to search his face. “We could try therapy.”
“I’ve tried. It didn’t help.”
“Then what do I do?” My voice cracks. “I can’t watch you suffer.”
He presses his lips to mine. “Just stay.”
“That can’t be enough. I’ll find a way to help you through this.”
He smiles.
“How are you smiling after such a scary episode?”
“That was nothing new.” He cups my face in both palms. “But this is… someone who wants to fight my battles with me.”
I cradle his face in return. “I won’t let you lose a single one.”
He kisses me again. I slide my hands to the back of his neck. This time, it’s different. Long. Soft. Slow. A lover’s kiss. A broken whisper of two hearts beating in tandem.
“I love you, Elowen.” He whispers it against my lips.
“I love you too, Salvario.” I press the words into his mouth with another kiss.
I slide my tongue into his mouth. He welcomes it, sucking gently, tangling it with his own. I catch his lower lip between mine and suck, a little harder this time. His hands roam across my bare back, tracing every inch of my naked skin.
The kiss deepens into a ravenous war of mouths, a desperate theft of each other’s breath. His hardness presses against my ass, growing harder and harder until it feels like rock.
We pull apart, breathless.
“I think I love kissing you.” I chuckle.
He trails kisses along my jaw, down my throat. I arch back, head falling to the side. His mouth continues its descent until it reaches my peaked nipples. He takes one into his mouth and strokes it softly with his tongue.
My body shivers at the sensation—delicious, overwhelming. He curls his tongue around me, and I moan loudly.
He shifts back, lifting me from his lap and laying me on the mattress before him. My legs fall open on either side of his body. I’m spread bare in front of him. His jaw tightens as his fingers ghost over my center. I glance down. Blood.
“It’s nothing.” My voice is steady. “I’m not in pain. Just wipe it away.”
He presses me back gently, bends, and lifts my hips. Then his mouth is on me, his tongue sliding over my labia.
I gasp. “What are you—” The question dissolves into a moan as his tongue slides inside the folds.
He flattens his tongue against me, the tip resting at my entrance. It feels like he’s covering all of me. He slowly moves it upward in a soft stroke. When the tip brushes my clit, I shudder. A shivery moan leaves my throat.
He does it again—from my entrance to the hood of my clit—agonizingly slow, with barely any pressure at all. By the third stroke, I’m shaking. Heaving.
“F-faster.” The word shudders out of me.
But he doesn’t. He keeps that same maddening pace. My eyes roll back. I’m gasping, moaning—lost. The sensation builds and builds until I’m nearly sobbing with it.
“Please, Salvario…” I gasp as the tip of his tongue finds my clit.
I fist my hands in his hair, trying to force him to add more pressure or move faster, but he doesn’t budge.
My moans grow louder, more desperate. I’m submerging into the depths of pleasure, slowly and completely. My whole body is shaking. I’m crying, and then it crashes over me.
No sound comes out; my breath frozen in my throat. It feels like my body is floating, and everything is exploding inside me.
The orgasm traps me in that blissful haze for a long moment before I return to reality, shuddering as he feasts on my thighs. Unlike the gentleman he was with my pussy, he is a demon now. Biting. Sucking. Marking.
I’m crying, moaning, trembling. He returns to my center, and I shake my head, unable to find my voice. And with the lightest brush of his tongue, I shatter again. Just as violently.