Page 20 of Finding Love

Fuck this.

I’m fighting a raging hard-on as I stand, glaring down at her. What more do I have to do? Who does she need me to be? “You need to make up your mind,” I growl out and immediately regret my tone. I can’t help it. It’s fucking exhausting being the supportive, loving partner who is uncertain if the love of his life will ever come back. “That, or you need to stop getting in your own damn way,” I add, lowering my voice.

“Exactly how am I doing that?” She jumps to her feet, her blue eyes flashing, her tits rising and falling with every ragged breath. “What, because I won’t let myself do something I know isn’t right?” she adds with steely determination.

“Isn’t right? Look around,” I reply, this time louder, \ her head snaps back, and her brow furrows at the volume of my voice.

I’m fighting a battle with myself to give her time. The not knowing that has me teetering on the edge. If I knew she’d come back to me, I would be more patient. I’d wait forever.

“Look.” I grab a framed photo off the end table and thrust it toward her. “Your parents, pretending they’re holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Look, another one.” This time, it’s a graduation photo with Emilia in the center wearing a cap and gown and her parents standing on either side. “You lived here. This was becoming your home too.”

I shove the photo into her hands, then turn toward the bookshelves. “Look at all of this. Do you think I’m a big fan of the Harry Potter books? Because you sure as hell seem to be.” I run a finger along the spines of the thick books. “What, do you think these belong to me? Then there’s your things in the bathroom. Your clothes in the bedroom! What more do I have to do to prove to you I’m not making this shit up, Emilia?”

She’s always had the power to uncover the best and worst in me, prying up rocks and revealing what’s squirming underneath. It shouldn’t thrill and satisfy me to watch her fade in the wake of my rage, but then I haven’t had much satisfaction lately.

“Stop yelling at me,” she yells back. “You don’t have the right.”

“Yes, I fucking well do,” I shout, weighted with guilt. “Because I have done everything I can to make you feel comfortable, show you this is where you belong, and that we belong together. What is it going to take?”

“I’m so sorry I can’t get my memory back on your goddamn schedule!” Her chin quivers, but she holds her head high. Part of me rejoices at the sight. She’s still in there somewhere. The woman I fell in love with against all odds, even common sense.

What about the part of her that fell in love with me? Is that still there? Will it ever return?

All the old instincts come rushing back. The way things were between us in the beginning. “Why don’t you stop lying to yourself?” I ask, crossing the room one slow, measured step at a time. My hands tighten into fists as I imagine throwing her over my shoulder, carrying her to the bed, and reminding her who she’s dealing with. Her mind might not remember me, but her body does.

She gulps, backing up until her legs hit the sofa. “What point do you think you’re making?” She’s not so feisty now. Damn me to hell. My dick twitches when I identify the fear that’s begun to creep across her face. I thought I was beyond the point where intimidating her turned me on, but I used to think a lot of things that have turned out to be untrue. I believed we were safe and unbreakable, and look where it got me.

“You think I didn’t feel the way your body reacted to me?” I murmur, eyes tethered to her, my pleasure growing with every short breath she takes. Her dread is getting worse by the moment. More than that, she lowers her gaze and folds her arms because she knows I’m right.

She’s too embarrassed to look me in the eye. “Don’t act like you know me,” she whispers fiercely, struggling to hold onto any shred of dignity and self-possession she can muster.

“But I do,” I tell her, advancing slowly like a predator cornering its prey. “That’s the thing. I know you inside out, my love.”

The problem with refusing to look at me is her inability to judge when I’m too close for her to escape. Her sharp gasp rings out when I take hold of her hips and pull her against me in one quick movement.

This is how it’s supposed to be. Fuck being gentle with her, giving her time and space. She belongs to me, and I now know part of her remembers that. We’ve never been able to deny our physical connection. It was part of what brought us together in the first place.

“Stop fighting it,” I growl out, breathing in her sweet, enticing scent. It’s more intense now that her heart is hammering, every flutter of her pulse sending a fresh burst of her essence into the air. I would love nothing more than to close my eyes and soak it in, to take the rest of the day to reacquaint myself with her after holding myself back all this time. “You have no idea how much I want you. There’s no way you don’t want me.”

“I don’t.” It’s a whimper, a whine, something a stubborn child would say when fighting off their bedtime. Pointless, a waste of energy, yet she insists on denying herself what she needs.

Digging my fingers into her supple flesh, I growl again, the animal in me ready to attack. “I have kissed, licked, stroked every inch of your body,” I whisper, my lips no more than a hair’s breadth from her ear. She shivers, and it’s a small victory that pushes me onward. “You’ve done the same to mine. Your body remembers the feeling of having me inside you.”

“Luca,” she breathes out weakly, her teeth grazing her bottom lip. I told her she didn’t have a chance against me, but then she always has to learn the hard way.

“Some things can’t be denied,” I tell her, my hands sliding around until they’re cupping her ass. No matter how hard she bites her lip, there’s no containing a helpless moan. “This is what I should have done in the first place. I should’ve known it would be the quickest way to get through to you because it’s the part of you that can’t be denied. You fought like hell against it, and you lost the fight.” My teeth graze her earlobe, tugging a little before I kiss it softly.

She shudders with a dismayed little groan, not a second before doing what I knew she’d do all along. She turns her face toward mine, seeking my kiss.

And I give it to her, covering her mouth, claiming it again.

Mine.

All fucking mine.

My heart is pounding out of my chest by the time I pick her up, holding her close to me as I carry her across the room. I don’t stop until we reach the bed, where I lower her without breaking our kiss and stretch out on top of her delicate body.

Her fingers have curled into something closer to claws, raking across my shoulders before sliding down my back to tug my shirt from my waistband. My blood is humming, racing. An urgency like I’ve never known overwhelms my every thought and movement. I know what I’ve missed these long, lonely days, and this is the answer to every prayer I never dared voice.

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