Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
James
"What if I want you to scream my name so loud the whole of Sicily hears you?"
"Yes," she whimpered. "Anything you want."
"What if I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk straight tomorrow?"
"Jesus Christ, yes," she breathed, as she bucked her hips against my hand.
Just as her walls constricted around my fingers, signalling her approaching climax, I withdrew them completely.
“James, please! I can't—I need—.”
"You need what?" I demanded, positioning myself over her, my cock pressing against her entrance through my jeans but not giving her what she craved. "Say it properly."
"I need you inside me," she sobbed, tears of frustration streaming down her face. "I need you to fuck me. Please, I'm begging you."
The broken plea in her voice was everything I'd wanted to hear. I stripped off my clothes with desperate efficiency, freeing my aching cock. Lining up to her, I released my mental chains of restraint and descended into her completely.
Quickly leaning my head forward, I crashed my lips against Evangeline’s, swallowing her scream. She was so tight, so wet, so perfect around me, I had to fight not to lose control immediately.
"Turn over," I growled against her ear after a few deep thrusts. "On your hands and knees."
She obeyed immediately, presenting herself to me with complete submission. I gathered her blonde hair in my fist, using it to pull her head back as I entered her again from behind.
"Who do you belong to?" I asked, my voice rough as I moved with punishing intensity.
"I belong to you; my body belongs to you!" she gasped. As she wrestled for control, she pushed back against me.
I tightened my grip on her hair, using it to control her movements as I thrust into her relentlessly. The sound of our bodies joining filled the barn, mixing with her desperate cries and my rough encouragement.
Evangeline’s arse moved with the fluidity of rolling waves crashing against a cliff face as she received every one of my punishing moves.
I moved my head lower, hunger taking over.
Running my tongue over her perfect arse, my eyes rolled back at the earthy taste of the straw mixed with Evangeline.
The taste eviscerated all sense of frayed restraint.
I sank my teeth into her arse. What the fuck was I doing!
Who was I? Man, gentleman, soldier, bodyguard — no, at this very moment, I was Evangeline’s, of that much I was certifiable.
James! Che diavolo hai appena fatto! (James, what the hell did you just do!) Evangeline screamed in Italian, her scream in equal measure’s pain and pleasure. Making my dick even harder, if that was even possible
Hai detto che il tuo corpo era mio... Ora porti il mio marchio.
Ogni parte di te ha un sapore divino. (You said that your body was mine…
Now you carry my mark. Every part of you tastes divine) I stopped, locking our bodies together, pushing deeper into Evangeline, as I ran a finger over the fresh bite mark, deep enough to mark, not so deep to break the skin.
My mouth brushed against her ear as my words dripped like residue venom through a bear-like growl. She wore me now,making my blood ignite into flames.
I could feel her beginning to tighten around me, her orgasm building rapidly, and unyielding. But I wasn't ready for this to end. Sitting back on the balls of my feet, I teasingly slid my cock out…
"James, what are you—"
"Turn around," I commanded. "I want to see your face when you come."
She turned to face me, her eyes wild with need, her lips swollen from my kisses. I lifted her legs, wrapping them around my waist as I thrust into her again, this time watching every expression that crossed her face.
"Touch yourself," I ordered. My movements, becoming more erratic, "I want to feel you come around my cock."
Evangeline obeyed my order, moving her hand in between us; her fingers brushed against my cock. Evangeline’s touch sent shockwaves ripping through me. When she found her sensitive and swollen clit, my restraint fractured. The sight of her touching herself whilst I fucked her undid me completely.
"That's it," I encouraged, feeling her walls beginning to flutter again. "Come for me, Evangeline. Let me feel you fall apart."
Evangeline finally crumbled, screaming my name, her body convulsing around me as waves of pleasure rolled over her. The sensation pushed me over the edge, and I followed her into oblivion with a roar that was pure animal gratification.
We collapsed onto the hay together, fighting for breath and breathing hard, with my arms cradling her protectively as the afternoon sun slanted through the barn's weathered boards.
For long moments, neither of us spoke, content to exist in this pocket of stolen time where duty and consequence couldn't reach us.
"We should go back," she finally murmured, though she made no move to leave my arms.
"Soon," I agreed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Let me hold you a little longer."
But exhaustion and satisfaction conspired against us. Lulled by the warmth of the afternoon and the steady rhythm of her breathing, I drifted into deeper sleep than I'd known in months, Evangeline curled safe against my chest.
I woke to the sound of children's voices, high and excited, speaking rapid Italian. My eyes snapped open instantly alert to find two dark-haired boys peering through a gap in the barn wall. their faces alight with curiosity and mischief.
"Fuck," I muttered, immediately moving to shield Evangeline's body with my own.
She stirred at my movement, consciousness returning gradually until she heard the voices. Her eyes widened in mortification as she realised our situation.
"Oh God," she whispered. "How long were they watching?"
Before I could answer, one boy called out in broken English, "Ciao, mister! You have a beautiful woman!"
The other boy giggled, adding something in Italian about "romantico" that made them both dissolve into laughter.
"Go," I said quietly to Evangeline, helping her gather her scattered clothes. "Get dressed and slip out the back. I'll handle this."
She nodded, moving quickly but quietly to the rear of the barn whilst I pulled on my clothes and approached the curious children. By the time I reached them, she had vanished into the olive grove, her white dress a flash of movement between the ancient trees.
"Buongiorno, ragazzi," (Good morning, lads) I said calmly, switching to Italian. "You should be careful around old buildings like this. They can be dangerous."
The boys looked disappointed that their entertainment was ending, but they were polite children, well-raised. After assuring me of their carefulness, they enthusiastically talked about what they had seen, skipping towards the farm, which I believed belonged to their family.
I waited several minutes before following Evangeline's path through the olive grove. I found her by our vehicle, her hair hastily redone, her dress smoothed but still wrinkled from our activities.
"Well," she said as I approached, "that's one way to conclude a romantic interlude."
Despite the potentially compromising situation, I felt my lips curve in what might have been a smile. "At least they seemed to approve of my choice in women."
She laughed, the sound surprised and genuine. "Small mercies."
New intimacy filled the drive back to the veterinary clinic. Whatever lines we'd crossed in that barn, there was no going back now. I'd claimed her completely, and she'd surrendered with a trust that humbled me.
The rest of her workday passed in a haze of stolen glances and careful distancing. I kept up my professional demeanor, but I was completely aware of her presence, and I noticed her every move and every interaction with colleagues.
When we finally returned to the beach house that evening, the sun was setting over the Mediterranean, painting the sky in shades of gold and rose. I had plans for the evening—a meal I had been delivered from the village, a conversation I'd been building towards since we arrived in Sicily.
"Go change," I said as we entered the villa. "Something comfortable. I'll set up on the terrace."
She disappeared into her room while I arranged the terrace for our meal that was waiting for us—fresh seafood, local wine, candles that flickered in the warm evening breeze. It was romantic, deliberate, and I felt surprisingly nervous as I waited for her to emerge.
When she did, wearing a flowing blue dress that complemented her eyes, my breath caught. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that—she was everything I'd never known I wanted, everything I'd been fighting against wanting.
"This is lovely," she said, taking in the setup with pleased surprise. "What's the occasion?"
"Sit," I said, pulling out her chair. "I'll explain."
We ate slowly, savouring both the excellent food and each other's company. The conversation flowed easily—her excitement about the work she was doing, my observations about Sicily's changes since my childhood, shared memories and comfortable silences.
As the stars appeared overhead, I refilled her wine glass and took a steadying breath. The words I needed to say felt like broken glass in my throat.
"Evangeline," I began, then stopped, running a hand through my hair in frustration.
She set down her glass, observing me. "What is it?"
I stood abruptly, moving to the terrace railing, my back to her. The Mediterranean stretched endlessly before us, dark and unforgiving. Like the choice I was about to make.
"James?" Her voice was soft behind me.
"When we return to Bellavista," I said finally, the words coming out rougher than intended, "I'm going to speak to your mother."
Silence. Then the scrape of her chair as she stood.
"About what?"
I turned to face her, jaw clenched. "You know what."
Her eyes widened. "James, you can't—"
"Can't what?" I stepped closer, something dangerous in my voice. "Can't tell the Queen of Bellavista that I'm fucking her daughter? That I've crossed every professional line there is?"
She flinched at my crude words, but I couldn't soften this. Couldn't make it pretty when it wasn't.
"You don't understand," she said urgently. "The palace, the protocols—"
"I understand plenty." My hands clenched at my sides. "I understand that what happened today changes everything. That I can't go back to pretending you're just another assignment."
"And if she forbids it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
I focussed on Evangeline, for a long moment, this woman who'd turned my carefully ordered world upside down. "Then I suppose we'll find out how much a crown is really worth."
The words hung between us, stark and uncompromising. No flowery declarations. No promises I couldn't keep. Just the brutal truth of what I was willing to risk.
"You're serious," her breathing hitched as the words came out.
"Dead serious." I moved closer, close enough to see the pulse fluttering at her throat. "I don't do this, Evangeline. I don't... feel things. But you—" I stopped, the words catching.
"What about me?"
I reached up, my thumb tracing her jaw with surprising gentleness. "You make me want things I've no right to want."
She leaned into my touch, her eyes searching mine.
The silent question hung in the air, a question I could read in Evangeline’s eyes.
The same eyes that calmed my mind, those same eyes calmed my dark nights plagued with nightmares of the past. Evangeline did not know just to what extent she was my salvation, I would bleed for her. I loved Evangeline.
The question sat between us, heavy with implication. I could lie, deflect, retreat behind my professional walls. Or I could give her the truth that was burning a hole in my chest.
"You," I said simply. " I just want you."
The admission cost me more than I wanted to admit, leaving me feeling exposed and raw. But as her lips curved into a smile that was both tender and fierce, I knew I'd made the right choice.
Whatever came next, whatever consequences awaited us in Belavista, at least she'd know where I stood. At least she'd know that for the first time in my life,
I was going to risk everything for someone—something—I couldn't bear to lose.