Page 41 of Maddest Temptation

“I hate you.” I kissed him.

Cassio pulled back. “That only makes me harder.” He moved his leg even higher, and I moaned, head falling back against the fridge. His scent surrounding me, his strong arms holding me and his leg in between mine were too much. Still, I begged for more.

“Just like that, Principessa,” he groaned in my ear, “are you going to come for me right here?”

“Yes,” I moaned, and if it were even possible, he shoved me harder against the fridge, the friction between us increasing, and I couldn’t stop myself, it was too late to go back now. “Cassio,” I cried, begging him to stop since I had lost all sense of reason.

He kissed me instead, long, and hard, this time there was nothing gentle about the way he was handling me. His hands were rough on my body, one of them skimming up my waist toward the underside of my breast where he caressed me and then slipped his hand under my top. The moment his calloused hand touched my feverish skin, my back arched, and I moaned into his mouth.

Cassio was playing me like a puppeteer, moving my strings and controlling me with his mouth, hands, and legs.

The start of my orgasm was on the horizon, I could see it clearly. He pinched one nipple and twisted it gently, in contrast to what his mouth was doing too mine. “I’m so close,” I panted.

We broke apart then, I gasped for air, but all I did was breathe him in. Cassio shoved his head into the nape of my neck and nuzzled it, groaning loudly.

Then he stepped away and wiped his lip with his thumb, I almost fell to the floor, my legs hardly keeping me upward. I was panting hard, trying to understand what had just happened between us. The arctic look in his eyes froze me into place. He was fuming.

“You have a month to figure things out or you’ll have to go back to your father’s.” The words were venomous.

Then, like he hadn’t just crashed his lips to mine and kissed me like he was drowning, and I was his oxygen and like he hadn’t just deprived me from my first orgasm in years, he turned and walked out of my apartment. The door closed with a bang, I slid to the floor and placed a hand over my face. My body was still burning, my panties were drenched, and my core still begged for attention.

What had I done? Cassio was the one person I should have never allowed back in my life and here I was kissing him and riding his leg like nothing happened between us.

I tucked my head into my hands. “Oh God.” I was so screwed.

11

FRANCESCA

It was odd how comfortable I had grown in this place in the last few weeks since my mother had been hospitalized. Everyone in the oncology wing knew me and called me by my name. They even knew my favorite Jell-O flavor—cherry, of course.

I stopped by the desk and leaned against the counter. Martha was the nurse on call today. It was safe to assume I had become friends with all of them. The best part—the only good part about coming here every day—was these people.

“Hey, Martha.” I greeted her and placed a Tupperware container on top of the counter.

“Darling,” Martha beamed when she saw me. “Please tell me those are your famous blueberry muffins.”

“The one and only.” I chuckled when she placed her hands over her chest. “I brought some for you and the girls,” I said as she approached me and opened the lid.

The scent of freshly baked muffins filled the air. Martha grabbed one and then called for Jenny who was passing by. The two of them ate a muffin each and sighed taking their first bites.

“Where did you learn to bake like that, Frankie?” Jenny asked as she savored her second muffin.

“I had a lot of free time on my hands, so I decided to take some classes.”

Paolo disliked having me bake, he thought it was beneath me, but since he was gone most of the time, I used those moments to learn from our cook, Erica. She taught me most of what I knew, and it became a form of therapy. Those hours when there was nothing but the dough before me, the voices in my head would silence and I would simply exist in that moment. There was no anxiety, no pressure. Just me, Erica, and whatever we were cooking or baking for the day.

“Well, girl, if you keep bringing us these treats, I’ll be rolling out of here like a ball.” I chuckled and then picked up the Tupperware and offered it to the other two nurses who passed us by. “How’s my mother?” I whispered, as though she could hear me from all the way here.

“In a mood,” Martha warned. “Refused to eat and she yelled at Dr. Conrad twice.”

I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds. Most days were bad, but then there were some that were completely terrible. Mamma never seemed to be in a good mood, and lately, the only days she did smile were when my brother came along. Those days were rare, but I knew he was trying. With my father on his ass, it was hard to spare a few minutes to spend with my mother.

“Wish me luck.” I smiled and the two nurses smiled back. They knew how hard Mamma could be, but still, they were great professionals.

When I entered the room, my mother was sleeping, but the soft noise must have alerted her because her eyes shot open, and she turned to face me. It was still a shock seeing the bright Pucci scarf around her bald head.

“Savio?” My mother’s weak voice snapped me from my magazine.

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