Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
ISABELLA
I return to my room and pace the opulent space before I stop and stare at the ocean that just tried to kill me.
The water sits out there, blue and indifferent, giving nothing away, as though it hasn't just had me in its hands.
Not to mention the truth Anthony just said.
He drops a bomb so big I don't know what to do with it. What do I make of what he said?
Is it true? Did Alex play me all those years ago just to get rid of a Moretti?
I press my palm flat against the glass of the balcony door and look at my own reflection staring back at me. I barely recognize myself.
I can only thank my foresight in running away on the pretense of getting rid of my baby. Thank God my family doesn't know about Ivy. If Alex hates me so much that he would lie to me so I would abort my child, merely to get rid of Anthony, I now know he’s more than capable of much more heinous acts.
I hug myself, trying to keep it together, but I feel myself breaking apart. The edges of everything I’ve believed for five years dissolve, and there’s nothing solid left to hold on to.
Anthony is innocent. I can't reconcile that truth.
For years, I loathed the bastard and what he made me endure alone.
Pregnancy, absence from family and friends, and then the birth.
I hated myself for yelling out to him in my pain, wishing he would rush through the birthing suite doors and save me from what I was enduring.
But of course, he never came.
And why would he? He thinks I aborted our child and want nothing to do with him. That I used him for a game.
The anger, when it arrives, is clean and absolute. Cleaner than grief and easier to hold. Anger so deep and guttural it courses through my blood, and I will get my revenge. Alex will not survive doing this to me. I don't care if he's my brother or not. He will pay.
My bedroom door slams open.
I turn. Anthony is standing in the doorway, his face pale, his breathing rapid.
He looks the way I feel. Like a man who has just had the floor pulled out from under him and hasn't landed yet.
He slams the door and eats up the distance between us in three long strides.
He picks me up and slams his mouth against mine.
I gasp. Freeze and try to calibrate what is happening. Why is he kissing me?
"Bells. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for both of us."
I don't want to talk about it. Not just because we can't change the past, but because I still haven't told him the full truth. My conscience twists my innards into knots. I should tell him. He needs to know I gave birth to Ivy and that he’s a father.
But if he knows, it’ll only be a matter of time before his family does as well. The Morettis and the Romeros joined by blood. And with that knowledge comes the chance that others, the Russians in particular, could use Ivy to hurt us both.
Use her as leverage.
My blood runs cold at the thought.
No. I can't risk my baby.
"Don't say that," I say as he slips me back onto my feet, yet his hands remain firmly around my waist. I can't move.
Not that I want to. Not now that I know how we've both been played.
"I don't know how to navigate this new truth.
For so long, I've hated you, and it's been my only comfort.
Don't say sweet things to me." If he does, I'll crumble at his feet like a crushed-up cookie. “I don’t deserve it.”
"I thought you didn't love me anymore. I thought you'd used me, and getting rid of our baby, well, it confirmed that you truly saw me as a game.
I should have gone after you, Bells. I should have crossed every mile of this earth in search of you until I found you and asked you myself if what we had was all in my head. "
I blink. Once. Twice. I don't cry. I can't cry. I'm a Romero. I never show emotion or vulnerability. I clench my jaw, fighting my emotions, but it doesn't help, and it isn't long before Anthony notices. He swipes at my cheek. I’m crying.
Jesus, pull yourself together, Isabella.
But I can't. "You wouldn't have found me. Not even my family knew where I went," I say. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I can't believe we believed Alex. How did we fall for those lies?"
"Because of who we are. There are so few people who wouldn't cross us."
All true. The simplicity of it devastates me.
Anthony leans down and kisses me, and this time I kiss him back.
The touch ignites years of longing, of hurt and desire, hate and love, all wrapped up in that one point of contact.
Five years of it. Five years compressed into the press of his mouth against mine.
We come together, and he picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, and his strong, tattooed arm wraps around me, one hand clutching my ass and squeezing.
I moan, already feeling that delicious warm heat between my legs. "God, fuck me, Anthony," I gasp, breaking the kiss.
I feel him shiver, and he kisses me with such raw, wild abandonment I can't catch my breath. I don't try. I don't care. Let me die this way. There are worse ways to go out.
He walks us to the bed and throws me onto the bedding. I bounce and lean forward, throwing off the bottom half of my bathing suit before removing my top. Anthony stands at the end of the bed, a muscle working in his jaw. He pushes his shorts down, and I gasp at the size of him.
I forget how perfect he is. My mouth waters. It takes all my energy to pull my gaze away from him.
He clasps my ankles and wrenches me to the end of the bed. I half-gasp, half-laugh at his action before he drops to his knees. The determination, the raw, wild look in his eyes, leaves goosebumps rising all over my body.
Holy shit.
He dips his head, and I moan at the feel of his tongue. I slip my fingers into his hair, hold him against me, rub myself against his wicked mouth, seeking release. It won't take long. He'd always made me come fast, and after all these years, I need him.
"Fuck yes, Anthony…"
"You taste so fucking good, Bells." He slips a finger into me. I’m certain I'm having an out-of-body experience.
His mouth feels so good. His tongue flicks my clit, suckles it with a hunger that leaves me breathless.
I don't know what to do with myself. I grind against his face, press down on his fingers gliding into me.
I'm so wet. So close. That delicious heat, that sweet thrum teases me, and I know I'm going to shatter.
He growls against my sex, nibbles my clit before sucking it again. “Oh yes, just there, baby.” He moves away, stopping. "What are you doing?" I want to cry at the absence of his touch.
He stands and strokes his cock, a wicked grin on his mouth. "Turn over, sweetheart."
I do as he asks without question. I'd do anything at this point to secure a release. I need it. I need him.
He sets his rigid, thick cock against me and pushes the head inside. I squirm, and he clasps my hips, holding me still. "You want me to fuck you, sweetheart? You want me to push my cock into your tight, wet pussy?"
I nod, attempting to propel back onto him and impale myself, but he holds me still.
He tsks tsks me. "So impatient." His hand comes down and slaps my ass. Hard. I moan.
I hear him suck in a breath before he pushes into me. I forgot how big he is. How he fits me perfectly. I moan as he slips into me with a steady thrust, filling me completely.
"That's it, beautiful. Take all of me."
I whimper, attempting to move, but still he stops me. "Anthony, stop fucking teasing me, damn it."
His laugh makes his cock jerk inside me, and I moan, desperate to shatter. I reach between my legs and touch myself. "Oh yes." I gasp at my own touch and the feel of him deep inside me.
He groans and pulls out and thrusts into me hard. I jerk forward on the bed, but his large, strong hands pull me back against him, impaling me a second time. I’m at his mercy, and I fight to keep my breath, my wits, but it's impossible.
I’m completely in awe of him.
The same as I was when we first met.
He reaches around and pushes my hand away, leaning over my back, fucking me with a relentless savagery I understand right down to my core. It's desperation. A reclaiming after all the years we've been apart. His fingers slip against my clit and tease in a slow, circular motion.
"Anthony," I gasp. I’m owned by him in all ways. Lost in passion and desperate to come. I want to climax so badly. He’s never denied me before, and it’s driving me insane. "I'm so close. Please," I beg, losing all control.
He pumps into me, his muscular frame crowding me. "You know how many times I've dreamed of this?"
"Probably as many times as I have," I admit. There’s no more time for pretense. We were kept apart for reasons outside our control, not our choice. I’m not going to pretend that everything I ever felt for this man wasn't real.
I mourned it when I thought I’d lost him.
I feel my orgasm growing with every stroke of him inside me, and underneath the pleasure, something else builds too. Something that has nothing to do with the body and everything to do with the five years of loss pressing up against this moment, trying to get in.
He sucks in a breath next to my ear, and I shiver. "You feel so fucking good, Bells. I could fuck you all day."
I turn my head, and he kisses me hard and quick. He sits up, pumps forcefully twice, then pulls out. I'm kneeling on the bed, unsure what to do with myself. My body is beyond overstimulated, and I need to come. I look back at him, and he's stroking himself.
I turn and face him. He's watching me with dark, hooded eyes as I come face-to-face with his dick. I reach for him, kneeling before him.
He licks his lips and watches me. "Suck it,” he commands.
Oh God, I love it when he orders me around in bed. I take him in my mouth and can taste myself on him. I use my tongue, licking the engorged vein along the underside of him. He moans and sucks in air between his teeth.
I clasp him with my hand, stroking his rod as I take him fully into my mouth, deep-throating him.
"Jesus, Bells,” he gasps.
I moan, and he does the same. I suck him as good as I can, considering his size. He's much bigger than I remember, but I love it. I love the taste of him. I love the feel of him between my lips, on my tongue. I lap at him, suck and use my teeth with restraint. Just enough to keep him wanting more.
He rocks into me, his thrusts growing stronger.
His hand clasps my hair, fisting it hard. He fucks my mouth, and I’m powerless to stop him. I let him use me as he wants. He's getting faster, harder, and I reach up and push at his waist when I feel he's close.
"If I don't get to come. Neither do you."
His wicked grin undoes me, and he pushes me onto my back. I spread my legs, offering myself to him. He comes down over me, spreads my legs farther, and reaches down to wrap them around his waist. He clasps my hands and pins them above my head and thrusts.
Hard.
I gasp and arch my back at the feel of him in me, in front of me, owning me.
Mine.
"You're so fucking beautiful."
Our hands link above my head, and I watch him fight for control. I know he wants me to come first, and I can feel that delicious ache growing with every thrust. I grind against him as he takes me. "You feel so good," I gasp, my body spinning out of control.
My orgasm hits fast and hard, echoing through my body in sweet, satisfying tremors. He fucks me through my release, and I shatter into a million pieces. I’m never going to be put back together again, and I don't want to be.
He rocks into me, hardening further. "Oh, Bells. Fuck yes."
I feel him come, and a second, devastating orgasm rips through me. I arch my back and give way to everything he makes me feel. So good. So complete. So entirely, terrifyingly his.
He kisses me, our tongues tangling. He lets go of my hands, and I wrap them around his neck. Our labored breaths mingle, our sweat-damp bodies slide together before he slumps beside me, pulling me into the crook of his arm. "I want you back," he says without warning.
My heart jumps so hard I feel it in my throat. I look up at him. "Anthony…maybe you need more time before declaring that heavy statement."
He shakes his head, his face a mask of determination. "No, I don't. I should never have let you get away from me in the first place. I won't make that mistake again."
I say nothing. I lie in the warm curve of his arm and listen to his heartbeat slow, and I think about Ivy, and I think about Alex, and I think about all the things still unsaid between us that will not stay quiet forever.
The ocean moves outside the window. Blue and patient and waiting, just like my truth.