Page 19

Her stare turns icy, hardened by years of bullshit—some mine, some not. I see it now: I’ve torn her open, left scars she cannot hide. She’s got my heart in a chokehold, and letting her slip away might kill me.

“It’s not stupid,” I admit. “It’s the most anyone’s ever given me, Sweetheart. I sure as hell do not deserve it—not from you.”

She nods, lips pressing tight, silence swallowing us. Then, snapping back to the moment, she asks, “So, how do you feel being here now?”

I tear my eyes from her, scanning the sea of tombstones stretching out like silent judges.

Beyond, to the east, trees carve a path to my parked car.

Wind slices through the branches, rustling them wild, and I shut my eyes, sucking in the crisp, earthy air—moss, dew, a whisper of peace.

“I cannot pin it down,” I say, exhaling. “But it’s not guilt anymore. You?”

She turns, her sandals crunching the cobblestone as she heads toward the trees. I trail her, my hand brushing the handgun tucked in my waistband. We pass two women kneeling at a grave, their prayers a low hum, and Penelope’s voice breaks the quiet.

“Back then, I could not face this place. It crushed me—her being my best friend, gone like that. Now, though? Like you said, guilt’s faded, replaced with hatred for myself. But I miss her. God, I miss her so fucking much.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “More than I can ever say.”

We start approaching the gated entrance after a few minutes.

Once we reach the edge, she stops, wrapping her arms around me.

The height difference between us has never really registered in my head until today.

With her arms around me, I suddenly feel at peace.

The smell of nature, of green moss and dew and sunlight filter through my subconscious but all that fully registers is the sweet smell of her honey-tinged perfume.

“I’ve missed you like hell,” I rasp, pressing a kiss to her head, my lips grazing her hair. “Every damn day, you’re in my head. I cannot keep pretending I’m fine without you.”

“Adriano, I… I cannot do this anymore.”

She pulls back, leaving me hollow. I rake a hand through my hair, biting my lip to cage the flood inside, but it spills out anyway. “Why not, Pen?”

She shakes her head, those coffee-brown eyes lifting to mine—bright, not from the sun glaring down this afternoon, but from something raw: fear, longing, maybe love, all tangled up. “Just because.”

“No, Sweetheart.” I step into her space, voice hardening. “You owe me more than that.”

Her lips pout, and fuck, I want to crash into her, devour that mouth with my tongue until she’s gasping. My cock twitches, straining against my jeans, begging for her. “It’s your world,” she says, voice cracking. “Your life—I’m scared of it, Adriano. I keep saying it because it’s true.”

“My love,” I drawl out and she sighs, slowly closing her eyes as I cup her face in my hands and caress her cheeks.

It hits me that this is the first time I’m actually calling her that.

I tell myself that it hadn’t been intentional but the more I stare at her, the more certain I become.

I really do love her. “I have hundreds of people under me, and I protect each one fiercely. You’re the entire world for me. I’ll protect you with my life.”

She stays silent, but her eyes scream it. The desire, desperation, a mirror to my own hunger. They tell me she’s drowning in this too, maybe deeper than I am, grasping at straws to hold onto us.

I push harder, chasing that last thread of her surrender. “I said I’d give you space in the hospital, but I’m done. It’s been only two weeks, and I want to die. You’re my air, Pen. I’ve pictured your body every fucking day since.”

Her cheeks flush red. “Adriano please…” she breathes, soft and shaky.

I kiss her left cheek, then her right before moving to her nose and eyelids. “I have missed the way you smell…the way you taste…Fuck, I need to feel you right now, Sweetheart.”

She goes still, her breath hitching.

“Penelope, Sweetheart please give in to me—”

“Adriano....”

“Let me give you what I know your body craves.”

“Fuck....you drive me up a wall. I cannot wait,” she whispers, voice trembling. “Please fuck me, Adriano.”

That’s it—my heaven, her begging me to take her. I grab her hand, dragging her through the trees. My car’s an option, but her ragged gasps and my slick palms say we won’t make it. I stop by a thick oak, stepping back to drink her in.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” It feels difficult to breathe now that I’m standing in front of her.

It’s strange the way I’ve let myself become addicted to this woman.

What I’ve learned in my line of work is that getting this seriously involved with a woman could prove to be both a blessing and a curse.

Somehow, now, I couldn’t care less. All I want is her.

“You’re so hot. I need to have a taste of your pussy. I fucking need to taste you again, please.”

She gulps, loud and raw, leaning against the tree, her eyes pinned to mine, so wild and daring me.

I drop to my knees, the damp grass soaking my jeans. The dirt’s going to cling to us, but I give zero fucks.

“I need you now,” she whines, lips parting, her voice a plea that ignites me.

I do not have it in me to tell her to wait, because patience is for suckers. Right here, right now, all that fucking matters is how bad we both crave this. How bad we’ve always craved it, even when we pretended otherwise.

Penelope hikes her dress up, exposing her panties, a thin scrap of fabric daring me to rip it off.

I draw them down her legs, rough and fast, letting them pool at her ankles.

I kiss her thighs, open and trembling, tasting the creamy smoothness of her skin.

She’s soft, too damn soft for a bastard like me.

I drag my tongue along her inner thigh, slow and hungry, then scrape my teeth across it, marking her.

She gasps, sharp and needy, pressing a hand to her stomach like she’s holding herself together.

“I’m fucking dying here,” she whispers. “Quit teasing me, Adriano. I cannot take it. I need your mouth on my pussy now.”

That’s my green light. I shove a finger inside her, curling it deep, pressing hard against her slick walls. She stumbles, knees buckling, but I clamp my arm around her hips, pinning her to the tree.

“Relax, Sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

I dive in, rolling my tongue through her dripping folds, and she moans so loud, shameless, a sound that shoots straight to my cock.

I do it again, lapping at her, tasting how soaked she is, just to watch her squirm.

She grinds against me, hips bucking, chasing my finger and mouth.

I plunge deeper, sucking her wet pussy, every lick pulling me into her orbit.

She’s my goddamn salvation, right here, spilling over my tongue.

My jeans strain, my cock throbbing, rock-hard and leaking, but I do not stop.

I need her to feel it—how she drags me to the edge of sanity and back.

I hum against her clit, vibrations pulsing through her, and she digs her fingers into my hair, nails digging into my scalp.

The sting mixes with the heat, a fucked up cocktail I cannot get enough of.

Then she shatters, coming hard, flooding my mouth with her taste. I drink her down, every last drop, greedy for it.

“I want to bury myself in you,” I growl, surging to my feet, wiping her slickness off my chin.

“Please… please… fuck, please!” she begs, voice breaking.

I hook one of her legs over my arm, shoving my jeans and briefs down just enough to free my cock. I thrust into her, raw and deep, and her cry, half pain, half ecstasy, it sets my blood on fire. I plunge in fully, pounding into the woman who owns me, body and soul.

“You feel that?” I snarl, clutching her hips with bruising force. “I cannot live without this. Without you.”

She cries out, a sound that rips through me, her pussy squeezing tight around my cock.

“You’re so tight… so fucking perfect… made for me.”

“Mmm… oh my God…” she whimpers, her voice a wrecked mess.

Her nails rake my neck, drawing blood, and I hiss, loving the sting. I fuck her harder, the tree leaves raining down.

“You’re mine, Pen,” I rasp, my forehead pressed to hers, sweat dripping. “To have you like this every single day, I’d kill for it.”

Our bodies slap together, wet and filthy, the only sound cutting through the rustling trees and whispering breeze.

She wraps her arms around my neck, clinging, and I hoist her other leg up, lifting her off the ground.

I fuck her harder, driving into her tight, dripping pussy, the tree bark scraping her back raw.

“You take me so goddamn good, Pen,” I snarl into her ear, teeth grazing her lobe. “You love this, huh? Love me fucking you stupid?”

“Yes… yes!” she screams, her voice echoing through the graveyard, her legs wrapping around me, pulling me deeper.

This is us. So loud, so messy, so unhinged.

We’ve fought this pull for too long, pretending we could outrun it.

Now it’s spilling out, dirty and desperate, and we cannot stop.

Footsteps crunch behind us, some nosy bastard stumbling down the path, but I keep going.

She hears it too and I feel her tense, but her nails dig deeper into my shoulders, urging me on, begging for more.

That’s when I hear the loud, surprised gasp.

“What the hell!” a woman yelps, her voice cracking with shock.

I cannot stop—would not, even if I could. I’m buried balls-deep in Penelope, her wetness swallowing me whole, her heat searing me alive. The stranger staggers off, muttering, and I laugh against Pen’s throat before sucking the salt off her skin.

“I’m gonna come, baby… gonna fill you up so fucking deep…”

“Yes, that’s it… I need it…” she pants, her words slurring into a plea.

I explode inside her, pumping hot and thick, claiming every inch of her.

We stay locked like that, panting. Then I ease her down, her feet hitting the grass shaky and unsteady.

I grab her hands, pulling her close, her breathless giggle vibrating against me.

“I cannot walk after that,” she says, half-laughing, half-dazed.

I slam my lips against hers, devouring the salty mix of her sweat and mine, with a faint trace of that filthy lie she calls ‘just chapstick.’ Our fingers entangle.

“Good thing I’m here to carry you, huh, Pen?” I growl, teeth grazing her earlobe, tugging it rough. “But fuck, those thighs could choke me out anytime, and I’d beg for it while licking you clean after.”

She pulls back just enough, flashing that wicked grin that says she’s already plotting my ruin. “Carry me, please?” she purrs, her voice a filthy, mocking drip as her nails sink into my knuckles.

“Of course, baby. Then we’re fucking again in the car,” I shoot back, my mouth twisting in quiet amusement.

“No,” she snaps, but it’s weak, barely a protest.

“Yes.”

“Ok, fine,” she huffs, rolling her eyes, but the way her voice cracks like she’s already wet tells me she didn’t even want to fight.