55. Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Five
Maximo
Half an hour later, I’m still awake, every muscle in my body clenched against the need to move.
Mia sleeps peacefully against me while I feel as though I’m being slowly tortured from the inside out.
The hard pulse of my cock hasn’t eased. It beats in time with my heart, each heavy throb sending another wave of pressure through me.
I’m hot and restless. Release is all I can think about.
Mia’s thigh is still draped across mine, keeping her fitted intimately against the ache she created. Every soft exhale warms my neck, and each tiny movement makes lying still more difficult.
When she shifts in her sleep, rubbing across me, the sensation hits so sharply that I fist the blanket.
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes shut and fight the instinct to roll her beneath me again. Or drag her hand down my stomach and wrap her fingers around my cock.
Better yet, I want to feel those swollen lips around me and watch her discover how much she can test my control.
The images come faster than I can suppress them, each one feeding the next until I’m trapped inside my own skin.
I try counting her breaths, but every exhalation reminds me of the sounds she made.
Next, I focus on the dying storm, only to remember how it brought her into my arms. I summon the Romeros, the Irish, every threat circling my territory, but even they lead me back to the woman they believe they can take from me.
There’s no escaping her.
God, if I stay here much longer, restraint is going to become physically impossible.
Carefully, I ease my arm from beneath her, but the movement drags our bodies together. Pleasure surges through me, and I freeze halfway free.
My jaw clenches and my fingers twist in the blanket, fighting the humiliating possibility of coming in my pants like an inexperienced teenager.
Mia sighs and nestles deeper into the warmth I’m trying desperately to escape.
I finally manage to free my arm and slide away. Mia’s brow creases just as it did earlier when I tried this, but she doesn’t wake. Within seconds, her features soften and her breathing evens out again.
Mine doesn’t.
The loss of her warmth is immediate, but at least the distance allows rational thoughts to resurface.
We’ve kissed three times now.
The first in Sicily because I wanted her to understand exactly what I intended.
The second yesterday on the Ferris wheel because I needed to prove a point.
But this morning, Mia crossed the distance herself. She kissed me because she wanted to and asked me for more because she knew I could give it to her.
A sense of satisfaction returns as I look down at her sleeping face. She may continue insisting she has no intention of marrying me, but her actions are beginning to tell a different story.
It should make waiting easier.
But it only intensifies the ache still thrumming through my body. Knowing Mia desires me is no longer enough. I want the moment when she gives me the answer I’ve been waiting for.
She isn’t there yet, but she’s getting closer. I know it with the same certainty that has guided every important decision I’ve ever made.
And when Mialina Accardi agrees to become my wife, I will no longer have to deny us what we both want.
Until that day, though, discipline must prevail.
With a quiet curse, I rise and adjust the front of my pants. It does nothing to ease the painful pressure beneath them.
If I’m going to survive the rest of the day with her, a freezing shower is in order.