Chapter 30 #2
When my hands are clean, she moves to my chest. My shoulders. The ink. The scars underneath. Her palms slide over me, slick with soap, and I have to close my eyes. She’s touched me before. But not like this. Not after being gutted, all of it emptied out, nothing left to hide behind.
“Lorenzo.”
I open my eyes. She’s looking up at me, water streaming down her body, hair plastered to her skull.
“I see you,” she says. “All of you. The blood and the violence and the emptiness. I see it. And I’m still here.”
My hands tighten on her hips. A sound drags out of my throat, low and animal, and I don’t try to stop it. I pull her against me. Her wet body sliding against mine. Her arms looping around my neck.
And I kiss her like she’s the only thing keeping me alive.
We stay in the shower until the water runs cold.
By the time we stumble out, we’re both shivering.
I wrap her in a towel, then myself. She sits on the edge of the bed while I find the first aid kit.
I kneel in front of her to clean the scrapes on her knees, the raw skin on her wrists where the zip-ties cut in.
“I’m fine,” she says.
“You’re not.”
“I am. Because of you.”
I look up at her. She’s clean now. Pale. Exhausted. Steady. Certain.
She reaches down. Cups my face. Her thumb traces the line of my cheekbone.
“Lie down with me, Lorenzo.”
Her lips part under mine. Soft. Welcoming. She sighs into me, and the kiss deepens slowly. Like we have time. We do. For once in our lives, we do.
I cup her face. Clean skin under my palms.
“You went back for them.” Against her lips.
“For you.”
I kiss her again. Harder. She pulls back. Pupils blown.
“Bed,” she says.
I ease her back onto the mattress. Settle over her. Face to face. The lamp on. Everything visible. Nothing to prove tonight. Nothing to take or earn or fight for.
She leads and I follow and that’s enough.
She reaches for my towel. Pulls it free. Lets it fall. Her eyes running down my body with an expression that undoes me. Bruises on her ribs. Scrapes from concrete. But the way she looks at me. Like I’m the only safe place left in the world.
“Isabella.” Her name comes out like a confession.
She takes my hand. Places it over her heart. Her pulse races under my palm. Fast. Strong. Alive.
My hands are shaking when I touch her. Can’t hide it. Can’t control the tremor as I trace the curve of her breast, as my thumb brushes her nipple and she inhales sharply. The killer’s hands. Unsteady on her skin.
“Your hands.” She catches them. Holds them still.
“I know.”
“Come here.”
She pulls me down. Her legs wrap around me. Face to face. Nothing between us. We stopped needing any type of barriers.
I push my cock into her. Slow. The stretch of her around me. The heat. Nothing between us.
“Dio, Isabella.“
She gasps. Her fingers rake my shoulders hard enough to scar. Her hips rise to meet me, pulling me deeper, and the sound she makes is a broken moan that I feel in my spine.
“There.” Her voice breaking. “Deeper. Don’t stop.”
Slow. Deep. Her eyes on mine.
“No one has ever ruined me like this.” Against her neck. Low. Rough. “No one.”
“Lorenzo.”
“Sei reale. Sei qui.“ You’re real. You’re here.
She pulls me closer. Her legs tightening. Her body arching to take me deeper.
“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever destroyed.” My voice shredding. “And you came back.”
Her eyes are wet. Not crying. Full. She grips my jaw. Holds my face where she can see it.
“I came back.”
“You came back.”
Then I see them. On the nightstand. Dirty. Chipped. The chain broken. Catching the light from the lamp.
The thought hits like a jab to the chest.
My rhythm stops. Every muscle goes rigid above her. Eyes shut.
“Lorenzo.” Sharp. Cutting through. “Stay with me.”
Not a question. A command. My own words, delivered back to me. Her grip on my jaw. Pulling me back.
“Open your eyes.”
I open them. Her face. Right there. Dark eyes. Clear. Alive.
I press close until there’s nothing between us. Breath to breath.
“Not going anywhere,” I say. “Not ever.”
“Neither am I.”
I move again. Slow. Her body arching under mine. Her legs pulling me deeper. Eyes open. Both of us.
“I don’t deserve you.” The words scraped out at the edge. “But I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.”
“I know.” She grips my jaw. “I know you will.”
“Non ti lascio più.“ I’m never letting you go.
“Close,” she breathes. “Lorenzo. I’m—”
“I know. Let go.” My mouth against her ear. “Now.”
She comes. Her whole body locking tight around my cock, her hips lifting off the bed, my name torn from her throat. Wrecked. Beautiful.
I watch it happen. Her face. The way she shatters while holding my eyes.
Then the wave drags me under.
“Isabella.” Against her neck. “Isabella.” Against her jaw. “Isabella.” Against her mouth. Her name three times like a prayer I forgot I knew.
“Sei la mia rovina.“ You are my ruin.
The aftershocks roll through us. Tremors. The slow settling of two people who’ve stopped running.
I pull her against me. She curls into me, boneless and warm. Her wrist. I bring it to my mouth. Kiss the raw mark where the zip-ties cut in. The gentleness consumes me. My throat aches with it.
The other wrist. The same mark. I press my lips to it. Holding.
“Stella mia.“ Against her pulse. So quiet I’m not sure I said it out loud.
The beads sit on the nightstand. Dirty. Damaged. Safe.
She pulls my arm tighter around her. Presses back against me. Her fingers thread through mine and hold on, even as her breathing slows.
I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.
Tomorrow, Flavio. He’s still out there. Wounded but alive. There’s still work to do, violence to come, a world that won’t stop being dangerous just because we survived tonight.
But that’s tomorrow.
Tonight, I hold the woman I love.
My eyes shut. Sleep comes easy.