Chapter 39 Lev #2
“Nothing yet, but I’ll keep looking, I swear it.”
She smiles faintly and whispers, “Thank you,” before dropping her head onto my shoulder and curling up into my side.
After two more episodes, she twists to me, hand sprawling across my thigh. She doesn’t make my nerves want to tear from beneath my skin. In fact, the opposite, as my muscles relax, like she’s made to be with me.
“Thank you again for taking me to the ballet.”
“You’re thanking me for something that hasn’t happened yet.” It’s strange people do that.
“It’s all I’ve thought about all afternoon—in between studying, of course.”
“Sorry for distracting you.”
She slides in closer, twisting until she’s practically on my lap, and fuses her mouth to mine. Her hand slides up my chest and cups my neck, but this time, I don’t touch her. My hands remain beside my lap, letting her retain the lead.
A week ago, everything about this would have been worse than murder.
Now, I’m trying to figure out how I’ll survive without it.
What it’ll be like when she returns to Italy, and I come down to the basement to see the TV but no printessa.
What was my safe place will be yet another area that overwhelms me.
Memories of Serafina—the first time she was down here, finding her passed out, waiting for me, or yesterday, with her on my lap—will linger, but without her, they’ll be ghosts within my mind.
The next time we’ll see one another is when Zeno and Vanessa bring both sides together, but we’ll be around others, and nothing can happen.
Maybe she won’t want it to either. Once Vitale is dealt with, Serafina will live her life.
Maybe even meet someone worthy, someone good and normal and perfect for her.
A doctor, lawyer, businessman, trade worker—anyone but me.
Why does the thought of any of that have me gripping her tighter, kissing her harder?
I don’t know how to let her go.
This is what makes something an obsession, and breaking myself from Serafina will be impossible. It’ll be a full-body detox, but even then, I’ll need to be cut up and have her bled from me. This girl’s made it into my soul.
How does one regain a soul when the very person giving it life and strength is no longer around?
She’s my fixation. The balm to everything wrong with me. She’s the newest thing to call my own.
Her arms wrap around my neck as she kisses me deeply, no longer tentative and assuming I’ll toss her off. Admitting my issues makes moments like this more meaningful. She begins inching off my lap towards the floor, but I grip her hip.
“Don’t.” She wriggles against my hold and continues down, lowering to her knees. While my cock immediately responds as she reaches for my jeans, this isn’t something she needs do. I’m happy without it—happy with her. Everything else is extra.
“You don’t have to.”
Red blossoms across her cheeks as she takes my zipper in her grip. “I want to, but you’ll have to let me know what you like. I’ve only done this twice. Both with A—”
“Do not speak his name when you’re on your knees for me.”
Not if she wants me in control. That siklo—coward—has no right to her any longer, not even her thoughts. I’ll be damned if he slips in between us. It’s bad enough I might lose her to reality one day, to her brother taking her home. I won’t allow Alessio fucking Vitale to ruin this.
She swallows the fire running through my veins as she reaches inside my jeans. “I want this to be good for you. If there’s something you need, tell me. Please.”
Only you, printessa.
“Do what feels natural.” I sweep her hair off her shoulder as she takes my cock in hand, the feel of her touch removing any other worry. Worry over Vitale, over the fact my sister is two floors above us, over Vanessa being due home any hour now.
She lowers her head to re-create every fantasy I’ve ever had involving her. She sucks my head between her lips before sliding downwards, taking me deeper with each pass until hitting the back of her throat. I suck air deep into my lungs, and she refuses to let up.
Her tongue flutters along my underside, and any praise I may have been able to give her is lapped away by soft hands and a softer tongue and the control she retains over me.
When her cheeks hollow, sucking me in tight, my hips thrust off the couch, and every curse word imaginable runs through my mind.
Unable to help myself, I touch her throat. Her eyes flash up to me, cheeky and determined, before she moans and slides me from her mouth, instead pressing open mouthed kisses up and down my length.
“Fina…”
She moans, her tongue circling my head a few times as she glances at me. The sight—that’s what does it. Hair in my grip, I push her further onto me, careful of her gag reflex. She swallows, scraping her nails up my thigh as she forfeits control and lets me finish down her throat.
Blinding lights the precise shade of white vanilla and peach orange consume my vision until it’s only her. Only ever her…forever.
Serafina Mancini owns me. What she chooses to do with me after this is up to her.
As my cock softens in her mouth, she slowly pulls off me, and I fall limp against the couch before pulling her back on my lap.
“Was it alright?”
Grasping the back of her neck, I yank her against my chest, answering her with a kiss. She tastes like me. It’s heady and sends a bout of possession through my veins, one I’ve never felt before. One I’ve never wanted to feel with other women.
“Better than alright.” My thumb traces the curve of her mouth as her lips part just enough so the creamy evidence of my cum is visible on her tongue. It twists my insides with the same possessive sensation.
Serafina may be meant for more, but fuck, I’ll keep her while I can. I’ll be selfish with the one person in the world who makes me feel like a regular man.
I tuck her into my side while she chooses a movie for us to watch, kicking her legs up over my knees. It’s the most natural position in the world, and she’s asleep before the opening credits roll.
Rather than watching the movie, I watch her, praying my sister doesn’t come downstairs. There’d no explaining this one.