Chapter 14
EVA
His lips burn against mine, igniting memories I've spent years trying to forget.
I shouldn't be doing this.
Not with the secret I keep.
Not when one wrong move could destroy everything.
Yet I can't pull away.
Adriano's hands tangle in my hair, and I melt against him like I've been starving for his touch.
Maybe I have been.
Four years of running, of looking over my shoulder, of raising our daughter alone, of wishing for him, and now he's here, solid and real and wanting me.
But he doesn't trust me.
The thought slices through the desire.
How could he?
I've given him every reason to doubt me.
If he knew the whole truth, what I did, who I was working for, this tenderness would transform into violence.
The same hands cradling my face would probably close around my throat.
Alessandro already suspects.
I saw it in his eyes during the interrogation, the same coldness of his father, Lorenzo.
He's just waiting for confirmation of what he already believes—that I betrayed them all.
And Adriano, despite this moment of weakness, despite the longing evident in his touch, is suspicious too.
He's kissing me even as he's trying to extract my secrets.
I pull back, breathless, his taste still on my lips.
Our eyes lock, and I'm transported back to stolen moments in this room, his hands tracing my body like he was memorizing every curve.
How safe I felt wrapped in his arms, before everything went wrong.
God, I've missed him.
Not just physically, but the way he made me feel. Like I mattered.
Like I was more than just a pawn in the game between the Morozova Bratva and the Dantes.
"Eva.” His voice saying my name causes my chest to ache with yearning.
I want him, more than I should allow myself to want anything.
"I shouldn't.” But even as I say the words, my body betrays me, leaning into his touch.
"Tell me to stop, then." Adriano’s breath is hot on my skin.
I can't form the words.
Every logical part of my brain screams to push him away, to remember the danger, the impossibility of this ever working.
But my heart that never stopped loving him is louder than those warnings.
When his mouth captures mine again, I surrender completely.
His hands are everywhere at once, like he’s relearning the shape of body.
I arch against him, my own hands roaming over him.
I pull at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine, and he responds by laying me back on his bed.
"God, I've dreamed of this," he confesses, as he pulls at my clothes. "Even when I hated you for what you did, I wanted you."
I reach up, tracing the line of his jaw, needing him to know that I didn’t think he was just someone to fuck back then. "It wasn’t just lust before. It was more.”
Adriano's eyes flash with emotion.
He strips away my clothes, his gaze devouring every inch of me.
When I'm naked beneath him, he pauses, drinking me in. "Still so fucking beautiful."
He trails kisses down my body, lingering at the sensitive spot below my ear, the hollow of my throat, the curve of my breast.
Each touch is electric, sending sparks racing across my skin.
When his mouth closes around my nipple, I gasp, clutching at his shoulders.
I moan, the only way I can communicate my pleasure at his touch. He suckles at my nipple until I’m writing with need.
Then he moves on, down my body.
When his tongue laps across my inner thing, I tremble, my body coiled tight with anticipation.
I’m an aching mess, ready to explode.
The first touch of his tongue against my clit tears a moan from me.
My hips lift involuntarily, seeking more.
“That’s right, Eva. Let go. Let me taste how much you've missed me." He slides his hands under me, lifting me so he can feast.
His lips and tongue send the most delicious sensations through me, each building on the last until I come apart.
“Adriano!” I cry out as pleasure rips through my body.
He rises above me and despite just coming, I want more.
So much more.
I reach for his belt, fingers fumbling.
The buckle gives way, and I push his pants down his hips, taking his boxer briefs with them.
“Hurry,” I say, not hiding my desperation.
When he's finally naked, I drink in the sight of him.
He’s all muscle and lethal grace.
There are new scars marking his body, stories of violence written on his skin since I left.
I trace one near his ribs, feeling him shudder at my touch.
“I need you now,” he growls as he settles his hips between my thighs and thrusts.
There's no gentleness when he enters me.
It’s just raw, primal need.
Exactly what I want.
What I need.
I cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as he fills me completely.
The sensation borders on pain after so many years, a delicious burning stretch that makes my back arch off the mattress.
"Fuck," he hisses, forehead pressed against mine. "So tight. So perfect."
He doesn't wait for me to adjust, setting a punishing rhythm.
Each thrust drives me higher, the coil of pleasure tightening, building low in my belly.
I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, harder.
His hands grip my hips with bruising force as he pounds into me.
I meet him thrust for thrust.
It’s like our bodies remember this dance even after the years apart, after the pain I caused.
Sweat slicks our skin where we're pressed together, the scent of sex and Adriano's cologne filling my senses.
It’s primal, frenetic, and oh, so good.
"Mine," he growls against my throat.
His rhythm grows erratic as he nears his peak. “Come, Eva. Come on my cock. Take me with you.” His hand slides between us, thumb circling my clit. The added stimulation sends me hurtling over the edge.
"Fuck… yes… Eva," he groans, burying himself to the hilt, grinding against me, as his release spills inside me.
He withdraws, plunges in again, and again, until he collapses over me.
There’s all sorts of reasons this is wrong.
My secret.
His distrust.
But some things can’t be denied.
With him, I’ve always been reckless.
I lie nestled against Adriano's chest.
His fingers gently caress my back, and for a moment I allow myself to pretend this is our life.
There are no secrets between us, no dangers lurking.
"I thought about you every day," I confess, again feeling the need to give him something so he knows I didn’t want to abandon him. "When Mirabella would smile a certain way or tilt her head just so, I’d see you."
Adriano's body tenses. "I visited your grave. Every week for a year."
I press my face against his skin, unable to look at him. I hate that I caused him so much pain, despise myself knowing I’ll end up doing it again.
"I'm sorry." My words are pathetically inadequate against the magnitude of his pain.
He’s quiet for a moment. “Tell me about Mirabella… from the beginning.”
“She was ten months old when she took her first steps. I was making dinner and turned around to find her tottering across the kitchen floor with this look of absolute determination on her face."
Adriano's breath catches. His arm tightens around me. "What else?"
"Her first word was 'birdie'. Not Mama, not Dada." I laugh softly. "She was obsessed with birds. Would point at every single one we saw."
He shifts beside me, rolling onto his side to face me. "I should have been there."
It’s the pain, not the accusation, in his voice that guts me. "I know."
"Her first birthday. First Christmas. First everything." He presses his forehead against mine. "Tell me about her birth."
“Twenty hours of labor. I was so scared.” I close my eyes, remembering. "But then they placed her on my chest, and I felt whole. Still scared, but complete."
"Did she ever ask about me?"
I nod slowly. "When she was about two, she started noticing other kids had daddies. She'd ask where hers was."
"What did you tell her?"
"That her daddy was brave and strong. That he'd love her if he knew her." I wait for his anger to return that I kept so much from him.
He lies back. "I've missed so much time."
"She's only three. There are so many firsts still to come—first day of school, first lost tooth, first bike ride…"
"I won't miss another moment. Not a single one."
I want to believe that something is growing between us.
Something that can last.
But it’s impossible. I should leave now.
If not his home, then his side.
But I can’t.
Perhaps I’m weak because even knowing that this will end badly, I want to savor this moment of feeling wanted.
I lean in, pressing my lips to his.
He responds, kissing me back, this time without the urgency of before.
It’s sweet and tender, so unlike the enforcer in Alessandro’s office.
I shouldn’t forget his propensity toward violence as a way to solve problems, but I’m helpless in his arms.
He guides me onto my back, rising above me.
He caresses my breast, drawing his hand down to my waist.
Each touch lures me deeper into the fairy tale fantasy.
I reach for him, needing connection, and he comes willingly, his body covering mine.
But where our first joining was a collision, this time when he sinks into me, it’s slow, watching my face as our bodies reunite.
"Stay with me.” He rests his forehead against mine. "Don't hide."
I understand what he's asking for.
Not just my body, but my truth.
I don’t respond because I don’t want to lie.
Instead, I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper.
We move together in slow rhythm.
Every thrust builds sweet tension.
Our gazes lock as pleasure builds in gentle waves.
“Don’t you feel it? Us?”
My chest cracks in agony that I can’t give him what he wants even though I swear I feel him making promises to me each time he rocks into me.
"Let go. I'll catch you." He shifts, pushing in and grinding against me.
The release isn't explosive like before.
Instead, it blooms outward from where we're joined until my entire body pulses with it.
I cry out his name, clutching him closer as he follows me over the edge, his face buried in my neck as he shudders inside me.
We remain entwined, heartbeats gradually slowing.
"Stay," he says softly.
I turn my face to his, our lips meeting in a kiss.
"I'm here," I reply, knowing it's both truth and lie.
Because some secrets can't stay buried forever.
And when mine surfaces, as it inevitably will, this tenderness we've rediscovered won’t be enough to save us… to save me.