Chapter Fourteen
Choosing Fire
Andrea
Again, I wake to warmth, to the heavy weight of an arm draped around my waist, to the steady thud of a heartbeat under my cheek. For a moment, I don’t move. I just breathe him in. Stefano. My savior. My torment. My protector. My undoing.
The events of the last day come rushing back—the zip ties biting into my wrists, Matías’s voice dripping venom, the fear that I’d never see another sunrise. And then Stefano, storming through smoke and gunfire like a dark god, his eyes locked on me as if nothing else existed.
He’s the reason I’m alive. The reason I can take this breath. The reason I can feel anything at all right now.
I remember the kiss, and I feel everything.
His arm tightens as I shift slightly, his body curling protectively around mine even in sleep. The heat of him seeps through my skin, making me shiver. My thighs press together involuntarily, need sparking low and insistent.
I should be afraid. After everything. After the way Matías touched me, threatened me. But I’m not. Not with Stefano. He’s the only man who’s ever made me feel safe in my own skin. The only man I’ve ever wanted to touch me.
I tilt my head, studying his face in the low light. His strong jaw, shadowed by stubble. A mouth that’s kissed me like I was both fragile glass and burning flame. His eyes are closed now, but I know how dark they get when they’re on me. How hungry. How dangerous.
He thinks he’s a monster. But he doesn’t see what I see.
I see the man who carried me out of hell. Who cleaned my wounds with hands that have broken bones but have touched me with nothing but care. Who kissed me so gently last night when he could’ve taken more. Who held himself back for me.
And I know what I want. Stefano.
I want him. All of him. Darkness and all.
I shift carefully, turning in his arms until I’m facing him. His eyes flicker open instantly, sharp even though he is still half asleep. The tension in his body is immediate, his grip tightening.
“Are you okay?” he rasps, his voice rough with sleep.
“Yes.” My hand lifts, brushing his jaw. “Because of you.”
He exhales, some of the tension easing. His eyes soften as they scan my face, lingering on the bruise on my cheek. His thumb strokes over it gently. “I should’ve gotten there sooner.”
“You got there before anything worse could happen,” I whisper. “That’s all that matters.”
His gaze darkens, his throat working as he swallows. The air between us shifts, thickening, heating. My pulse races.
“Stefano...” I whisper, my fingers curling in his shirt. “Kiss me.”
His jaw clenches. “Andrea...”
“Please,” I beg. “I need you,” I tell him truthfully, my voice trembling but firm. “I don’t want to remember fear when I close my eyes. I want to remember you.”
His eyes flare with hunger and torment, his body going rigid against mine. For a long moment, I think he’ll refuse. That he’ll keep holding back. That he’ll keep protecting me from himself.
But then his mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss is fire. Desperate and consuming. His hand cups the back of my head, pulling me closer, his tongue sliding against mine in a claiming that steals my breath. I gasp into his mouth, my body arching against his, my fingers clawing at his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he growls against my lips, rolling me onto my back, bracing himself above me. His body is heat and weight, his cock hard and pressing against my thigh. I moan, spreading my legs, inviting him closer.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he rasps, his forehead pressed to mine. His breath is ragged, his control fraying. “If I take you now, I won’t stop. I won’t be gentle.”
“I don’t want gentle,” I whisper, my nails dragging down his back. “I want you.”
He groans, a sound ripped from his chest, and his mouth claims mine again. His hand slides under the shirt he gave me to sleep in, calloused fingers skimming my ribs, sending shivers racing across my skin. He hesitates only for a second, then pushes the fabric up, baring me to his gaze.
His eyes darken, his lips parting. “Beautiful,” he mutters, his voice reverent. “So fucking beautiful.”
Heat floods me, my body trembling as his mouth lowers to my breast. His tongue circles my nipple, drawing a sharp cry from me. He sucks hard, his teeth grazing just enough to give me an edge of pain and make me arch beneath him, my thighs clenching around his hips.
“Stefano,” I gasp, my hands tangling in his hair. “Please.”
His mouth trails down my stomach, leaving fire in its wake. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my underwear, tugging them down slowly, his eyes locked on mine the entire time. “If you want me to stop, you have to say it now,” he growls. “Because once I start, I’m not stopping.”
I hold his gaze, my heart pounding, my body aching with need. “Don’t stop. Please.”
The sound he makes is almost animal, guttural and deep. He drags my underwear off and tosses them aside, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading me open. His eyes darken to black as he takes in the sight of me, raw hunger etched across his face.
“So wet for me already,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Fuck, Andrea.”
Then his mouth is on me. I cry out, my back arching as his tongue slides over my clit. His hands pin my hips down, holding me still as he devours me like a starving man. Heat builds fast, sharp and overwhelming. My fingers clutch the sheets, my legs trembling against his shoulders.
“Stefano!” I scream, my voice breaking as the orgasm rips through me, wave after wave crashing hard. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent, his tongue working me until I’m shuddering, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
Only then does he lift his head, his mouth glistening, his eyes burning into mine. “Mine,” he growls, crawling back up my body. “Every fucking inch of you.”
His t-shirt is discarded and his jeans are shoved down, his cock springing free, thick and hard, the sight of it stealing my breath. My body clenches with anticipation, need surging hot through my veins.
He braces himself above me, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. His eyes lock on mine, dark and desperate. “Tell me again.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper fiercely. “Always yours.”
He thrusts inside me with a groan that vibrates through my bones. I cry out, the stretch sharp, overwhelming, and utterly perfect. He stills, his breath ragged, his body trembling with restraint.
“Fuck, Andrea,” he gasps. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”
“Move,” I beg, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Please, Stefano. I need you.”
He growls low in his throat and pulls back, then slams into me again, harder this time. Pleasure explodes, white-hot, stealing my voice. He sets a brutal rhythm, each thrust deep and claiming, his name falling from my lips over and over.
“Say it again,” he snarls against my ear, his thrusts relentless. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours!” I scream, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Always yours!”
He groans, burying his face in my neck, his teeth scraping my skin as his cock drives deeper, harder. The pleasure builds fast, fierce, and unstoppable. My body shatters around him, my orgasm ripping me apart, dragging his name from my throat in a raw scream.
He follows with a roar, his body locking tight as he spills inside me, his grip bruising, his breath hot against my skin. He thrusts once, twice more, then collapses against me, his chest heaving.
For a long moment, we just lie there, tangled in sweat and sheets, our hearts racing in sync. His arms wrapped tight around me, his face buried in my hair.
“You’re mine now,” he murmurs hoarsely. “And nothing will ever take you from me again.”
I close my eyes, tears slipping free, not from fear, but from the overwhelming truth in his words. “I was always yours, Stefano.”
He exhales, his body trembling, and I realize this is more than sex. This is a promise. A bond sealed in fire and blood and love.
And for the first time since the nightmare began, I don’t feel broken. I feel whole.