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In response, her hands moved to my ass, and she cupped them and squeezed, moving her hips against me, rubbing her clitoris against my pubic bone.
I felt her wetness against my skin, and my cock hardened even more when I didn’t think it was possible. “Cazzo,” I shouted, feeling my orgasm at the base of my spine.
I was covered in her juices, and I felt them drip against my balls. It felt so fucking good.
“Yes,” she screamed, and my thrusts became erratic, and I started to chase my release, shoving hard inside her. I grabbed her neck and squeezed, her eyes went wide, and I felt her orgasm in the way her pussy clasped my dick so hard that it hurt.
“Ti amo, mia moglie.” I poured into her, feeling each of her spasms as a caress.
“Ti amo, mio marito,” she said, and for the first time since she left me, I felt whole again.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Elysa
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the sunlight streaming through the curtains, painting lazy patterns of gold across the bed. The second thing I noticed was Dante lying beside me, his dark hair mussed and his chest rising and falling with the kind of deep, untroubled breaths that only came with sleep.
For a moment, I stayed still, staring at him, worried the spell would break if I moved. He looked so different like this—so unguarded, so human. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to wake up next to him, to have his warmth beside me and the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the sheets.
Last night had been…magic, the kind that I thought didn’t exist anymore. I had wondered if I’d regret asking him to stay the night. The morning was here, and I didn’t regret anything.
My stomach did a little flip, half excitement, half nerves, as the events of the night before replayed in my mind. Playing tourist. The Vespa ride home. The way he’d kissed me, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to memorize me. Me asking him to come back and be with me.
It had been perfect. Not just because of the way his hands had moved over me or the way he whispered my name like it was sacred, but because, for the first time in forever, I hadn’t felt like we were holding anything back. There was no armor, no barriers—justus.
But now, in the light of day, that old, familiar fear was creeping in, wrapping itself around my heart like a vice. I’d spent my whole life being discarded—by my mother, by my father, by Dante. What if this was just a temporary moment of connection? What if I let myself believe in him, only to find myself broken again?
I rolled onto my back, pulling the sheet up over my breasts, trying to quiet my thoughts. As I did, Dante stirred beside me, his brow furrowing slightly before his eyes blinked open.
“Buongiorno, amore.” His voice still rough with sleep.
“Buongiorno,” I replied, my tone quieter, more tentative than I intended.
“Why are you all the way over there?”
I turned my head to look at him. His lips curvedinto a slow, lazy smile—the kind that used to make my heart skip a beat.
“I’m right here.”
“Not close enough.” He reached for me, tugging me back toward him, and I let out a surprised laugh as I found myself pressed against his side, my head resting on his chest.
“You’re ridiculous,” I chided, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.
“Ridiculous or not, this is nice.” His hand slid lazily up and down my back. “I’ve missed this.”
I hesitated, my fingers twisting in the sheet as I tried to ignore the pang of doubt that shot through me. “Dante…”
He tilted his head to look down at me, his expression softening. “What is it?”
He said we had to communicate, and I needed to tell him how I was feeling, so he could respond and I wouldn’t go off on a tangent imagining his response.
I shook my head, forcing a smile. “Nothing. It’s just…this feels so normal, you know? Like no time has passed, like we’re right back where we started.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone careful.
“No,” I assured him quickly. “It’s not bad. It’s just…scary.”
He frowned, his hand stilling on my back. “Why scary?”