Page 44 of Crimson Vows

He moves slowly at first, then gradually picks up speed. His hips piston into me.

“Oh God,” I cry out, conflicted by the slight pain from the tenderness of my well-loved pussy and the sheer pleasure of reconnecting with Marco. All I can feel is him—his cock pounding into me and his powerful arms surrounding me.

With each thrust, something deepens between us, more than physical—a bond, a silent vow. With him, I feel seen and known.

Time slows down. Each movement is a declaration. My mind swirls, thoughts scattered by the relentless pleasure. The room spins, or maybe it’s me, unmoored and adrift in ecstasy.

Sensations crest and crash, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to break me apart and stitch me back together in the same breath.

“I love you,” he says, looking down at me.

“Marco...” His name causes my lips to tingle.

My muscles clench, and my heart races. I’m teetering on the brink. My back arches off the bed and my fingers dig into his back as I reach for that final release.

“Come with me,” I plead, and with our eyes locked on each other, he slams inside me one last time before I erupt. My orgasm is a tsunami, sweeping everything in its wake, and he rides the wave with me, his cock exploding as he groans my name.

When he finally collapses onto the bed, panting and spent, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

“I love you too,” I whisper, knowing everything has changed.

Chapter Fifteen

Marco

Ifeel the press of skin against mine, a tangle of limbs on cool sheets that have warmed with our heat. Gia’s soft breath against my neck is steady and calming. Nico lies to her right, his hand finding hers and gently squeezing it. Dante’s head rests on Nico’s chest. It’s a nest of affection I never imagined myself in the middle of, yet I am deeply grateful for it.

“Hey.” Nico’s deep voice cuts through the quiet aftermath. “I hope this doesn’t come out as weird or anything, but I wanted to thank both of you for sharing this with us.” He doesn’t look at us, but there’s no need.

Dante lifts his head. “Yeah, this was pretty epic.” There’s a playful twinkle in his words.

Gia stirs, turning her face toward the voices. Her dark eyes are pools of emotion—contentment, surprise, and maybe a little disbelief at the depth of connection we’ve all stumbled into tonight.

We lie there, four souls stripped bare. None of us in this bed are like the regular people in the world. We have a darkness that is needed for us to survive in our reality. We carry secrets and burdens that very few can relate to. We weren’t only pleasuring Gia in this bed tonight, we were releasing ourselves from the chains of our lives, even if it was temporary.

I brush a lock of dark hair from Gia’s forehead, her gaze searching mine. Her lips part, and the words spill out quietly but urgently. “It was pretty amazing,” she admits. “But Marco, I need to know, are you really okay with everything that happened?”

I tighten my hold around her. “Absolutely,” I answer without hesitation. “It was different and intense, yeah, but it felt so good to watch you let go and let me give you that.” I catch her eyes and hold them.

“I mean—” Dante starts with his sarcastic tone. “We kind of were there too.”

My gaze shifts to meet Dante’s. “Yeah, you were there, but let’s be real. At the end of the day, this was all about Gia.”

Nico chuckles at the banter, a rare smile gracing his usually stoic expression. “Can’t argue with that.”

Gia lets out a soft laugh, the sound like music in the intimate space. She nestles closer, her warmth seeping into my bones. I kiss her forehead gently, sealing my promise without words. Nico shifts, his presence reassuring. We’re intertwined, not just by flesh but by the trust we’ve laid bare tonight.

I trace the curve of Gia’s shoulder. She’s still, but I feel the tremors of her heart against my ribs. Delicate. Fierce. Broken in ways she shouldn’t have to be, and I wish more than anything I could take away all the burdens she carries.

“I swear to you,” I murmur, voice low, “I’ll right the wrongs they’ve done to you.” My fingers brush along her jaw, tipping her face up to mine. Her eyes, dark mirrors of pain and strength, meet mine. “Whatever it takes.”

Her breath hitches, and something unspoken passes between us—a silent acknowledgment of the depth of my vow.

Nico stirs beside us, his gaze sharp, alert. “Who wronged her?” he asks, his baritone rumbling through the quiet room. Dante’s blue eyes watch me too, intense and expectant.

The weight of truth presses on my chest. As desperate as I was to keep the secret about what Vincent had done to Gia at the start of the night, things feel different now. These men care for Gia as much as I do, and I’m sure they would agree that she deserves justice.

“Vincent,” I say, the name tasting like betrayal. Gia stiffens slightly in response. “I found out he lied about Anthony’s death.” The words hang there, dense and dangerous.

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