Chapter 36
Dominico
I’m on the phone with my accountant, who is droning on about the shipment we received last night.
Usually, hearing about how much money we are projected to make with the quantities being shifted to our other suppliers and direct customers is the highlight of my day.
But that has been replaced by the five-foot-two, brown-haired woman I proudly call my wife, dancing in the kitchen to a song from the early eighties.
The backtrack to a movie playing on the iPad I gave her while she smears a thick layer of Nutella on a piece of toast.
This is the real Lily—the side of her she reveals only to those she trusts and only when unburdened, which she was, since telling me about Johnathan and the sex syndicate.
The guilt she carried for leaving without the USB stick is finally waning.
With its absence, Lily flourished. This is yet another thing to add to the ever-growing list of items for which I would seek revenge.
This was Johnathan's doing. He used Lily's innocence against her, making her feel bad for wanting to survive and controlling her with fear.
I knew he was doing this, but the extent of it was worse than I could imagine.
We spent the night talking, and once she started, she didn’t stop, sharing everything with me.
All the details in the file I had on her and all the aspects the file could never encompass—the way she felt, the thoughts she had, the emotions that filled every sentence those typed words lacked.
It wasn’t pleasant, and her life had been difficult.
While she sometimes discussed these matters in a detached manner, like many who have experienced trauma often do, they did not carry the same remoteness for me.
I nodded and said all the right things, the burden shifting from her to me, to be placed in the space reserved for my revenge.
Just when I thought it was full, it needed more space. More room for the fuel.
But I could handle those dark feelings, as I am a bad man who did bad things.
My Lily was made from the light, made to dance in denim shorts and a floral cotton top while singing out of tune in a kitchen on a private island—pure innocence.
I would protect that. I would avenge its corruption, no matter the cost. I watch as she takes a bite of her treat, her eyes closing briefly as she savors the moment.
To live like that. I envy it, but in this way, having her so close, I can live vicariously through her. A gift.
“Dominico?” My accountant, an old Italian named Davide, draws my attention back to the conversation at hand.
“That’s fine for now. I’ll be back next week, and we can discuss it further.” He wishes my new wife and me a happy honeymoon and ends the call, as eager to be free of it as I was.
It was already late morning. After my little flower had unburdened herself, she fell peacefully asleep in my arms on the bed on the beach.
She barely stirred when I carried her inside to the bed we would share for the next week—one I had never shared with anyone here.
Hell, before Lily, I hadn't shared a bed with a woman in years.
Yet next to her, it felt natural, and the nightmares that usually accompanied my sleep were nowhere to be seen.
She jumps, nearly dropping her toast, as my arm circles her waist, pulling her against me.
"Oh my god, I got a fright," she laughs, her hand patting her chest as she spins in my arms.
I take a bite of her toast, her gaze following every movement and lingering on my lips.
"There is no one here but you and me. I don't want you to be afraid." She nods and smiles brightly.
"Are we going to explore?" Her excitement is contagious, and even though I have seen every part of this island a thousand times, experiencing it with her will be different.
Sharing it with her will feel like coming here for the first time.
She will paint every section of it with her presence, forever making it ours instead of mine.
Transforming it in only the best possible way.
"Ready when you are." I spin her around, her little giggle like music to my ears. I usually came here to enjoy the silence. This was a million times better.
Ten minutes later, we are walking along a trail in the forest that will lead us to the top of a cliff, overlooking the ocean.
My little flower hums, that sound intermittently interrupted by her pointing out something she finds interesting, which is often.
I should have known from the plants in her small apartment that she loves nature.
Every blooming flower is examined and admired, and I find myself hunching down next to her, memorizing her expressions.
In a world where I destroyed to create, being with Lily was like seeing things in color for the first time.
"Oh my god, Dominico, hold this," she shrieks, thrusting her bouquet of wildflowers into my hand as she ventures into a slightly overgrown section of the forest, eager to reach a piece of wood to accompany the ten others already in the backpack I am carrying.
To be made into wind chimes, I am told. I smile, wondering what Dante and Nero would say if they saw me now, flowers in hand, goofy grin on my face, staring at an angel traipsing through my forest.
She retrieves the piece of wood, holding it triumphantly in the air as she heads back toward me.
"It's so pretty! Look how smooth the edge is." She holds it up to my face, and I smirk.
"I have a smooth piece of wood you could play with."
She grins, her eyebrow raised playfully as she steps away from me, perhaps anticipating my reaction to her next statement.
"Mmm, but this is big and hard," she teases, stroking the piece of wood suggestively as she takes another step back. "Perhaps I should play with this one instead…Daddy Dom."
She taunts me, and when her tongue darts out to wet her lips, I make my move.
She shrieks, spinning on her sneaker-clad feet as she runs into the clearing ahead.
I love this Lily. Bold. Playful. Free. She heads toward a large tree, perhaps hoping to hide behind it.
But she doesn't get far. My legs are longer, and I am faster.
She laughs when I lift her into the air with one arm, my other hand still occupied with wildflowers.
I pull her against my body, freeing my hand by placing her collection down on a nearby tree stump, along with the backpack containing all her sticks.
"You can't run from me. I'll always find you." I loosen my grip on her, and she spins around, her flushed face picture perfect.
"And now that you have me, what will you do with me?
" She wets her lips, and immediately the playful atmosphere is replaced with a feeling I am becoming all too accustomed to.
Pure, undiluted desire. I take the wood she is clutching and toss it towards the backpack, taking that same hand and placing it on my now hard cock.
"I think you will find that what I have to offer is much more pleasurable. And bigger. Clothes off. Now."
She glances around, as if she needs to ensure we are alone.
"No one is here, il mio fiorellino . It's just you and me. You can do whatever you want. Say whatever you want. You can just be you."
There is a flicker of surprise, and then it is gone, along with any hesitation.
Slowly, she unbuttons her shorts, their descent to the floor followed by her panties. I follow suit, along with my shirt, which I drop onto the pile collecting at her feet.
Her gaze rakes my naked body, as mine does hers. "I want you to fuck me Dominico. Hard. I don't want you holding back."
Fuck. My little flower was asking me to lose control completely.
"You won't hurt me. I'm stronger than you think."
I growl, closing the distance as I lift her, forcing her to straddle me.
"I know. I have always known."
I lead us to a shady patch of thick grass beneath the tree, lowering us both down so that I am positioned above her.
Before I can do anything, Lily is shoving me, pushing me so that the position is reversed, with her on top. She sits back on my thighs, her eyes and hands immediately on my cock. Fuck. I don't know how long I would last if she took control like this.
"I'm already wet for you, Mr. Sante," she says, shifting her hips forward as she slides herself up the shaft of my cock, the truth of her words glistening on my skin.
"I'm already hard for you, Mrs. Sante," I repeat the words we said last night.
She raises herself, her intentions clear as she positions me directly below, precum oozing from my tip in anticipation.
I expect her to go slow, but as usual, I underestimate her, sucking in a deep breath as she fully sheaths herself, all the way to the hilt, screaming out loudly at the depth this angle affords.
She is so fucking tight that it is a mental war to keep from coming too soon.
Especially with her back arched and her tits bouncing with every move up and down.
When she pivots forward, her hair cascading around us, it is like a fucking fantasy come true.
Her eyes are closed tightly as she grinds her hips against me, rocking backwards and forwards as she rides my cock.
Circular movements follow and her eyes fly open when my thumb strokes her clit.
"I'm so close," Lily moans, her movements becoming jerky and less coordinated.
I grip her hips, her expression replaced with surprise when I lift her slightly and piston into her, hard and fast. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes around the clearing, the wet slapping noise coupled with her moans and the visuals, creating a scenario my wildest dreams couldn't even match.
"Oh fuck," she moans, my hips not letting up as she bounces on my cock, sweat forming on our skin as we race towards a finish line that is fast approaching.
She screams out, the walls of her cunt strangling my cock as we simultaneously come, forcing her hips against mine as I grind into her, painting her insides with stream after stream of warm come.
It's explosive in a way I have never felt before, and its intensity makes me wonder how I have gone so many years without ever experiencing anything like this.
Her limp body falls forward, and I circle her in my arms, our bodies still joined as we wait for our jagged breathing to even out.
Fuck. This was new. I've never come like that.
Together. Hard. Intensely. It must be the feeling of love that changes this.
She must be reading my mind as she gently lifts herself up and then smiles, blushing as she prepares to say something. Once again, she leaves me surprised.
"Sei il mio primo amore, Dominico. E sarai l'ultimo." Her Italian is bad but the words are so fucking sweet that it makes up for it.
"Did I say it right? I looked it up this morning and was practicing, but maybe I got it wrong?" she says, flustered as her blush intensifies.
I cup her face, my thumb stroking her pink cheeks as I smile. Fuck, I hope she never loses this.
"It was perfect. You are perfect. And yes, I feel the same way. Only through my feelings with you have I realized that I have never truly loved anyone before."
"Sei il mio primo amore, Lily. E sarai l'ultimo," I repeat.
You are my first love. And you will be my last.