Page 70 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

She keeps me down.

I grin, the anticipation itself bringing me to the brink.

"Vincenzo, I'm close," she whispers, her grip on my hands tightening as her pace quickens.

"Let go, Camela. I'm right here with you," I encourage, feeling my own climax building within me. I feel my cock throbbing for release, and her pussy feels tighter, as she clenches it shut around me.

I close my eyes, reveling in the pure bliss coursing through my veins, at the eruption that’s about to explode.

“Camela,” I moan, my chest jerking up, my hips bucking into her now, pounding her from below. As if on cue, she moans and releases my hands, reaching out to grab my thighs.

I feel her legs tremble, her breasts jerk and just then, I spill out into her convulsing pussy.

Our bodies tense in unison, our cries of ecstasy mingling in the air as we find release together.

The room smells like sex, my chest heaves, my heart pounds and I’ve never felt more alive. Camela gets off me, and lies beside me, her eyes still dark with desire.

I extend an arm and with labored breaths, she inches closer and collapses onto my chest. Our hearts beat rapidly in sync as we cling to one another, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together.

"Thank you," Camela murmurs into my chest, her voice soft and tender. "For everything."

"It’s I who should be thanking you, cara mia" I reply, stroking her hair gently as I hold her close. “You light my world up.”

I can feel her body slowly relaxing against me, the anxiety and tension of the day melting away. As our breathing gradually slows down, I can't help but think about how far we've come – from strangers to lovers, united by fate and circumstance.

"Vincenzo," she whispers just before drifting off to sleep, her voice filled with love and warmth.

"Sweet dreams, my love," I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. And at last, sleep claims us both.

Chapter 25

Camela

I sit by the couch near the fireplace. The evening is warm, without a need for fire, but the corner is cozy. I take a sip of my tea, and a deep, calm wash over me; I think it’s because I know that Vincenzo is truly beginning to feel like I’m his.

This relationship no longer feels one-sided. I knew he had a desire for me from the very start, but I questioned whether that desire ran as deep as mine did for him.

After last night, that question is no longer an issue. His forgiveness was as simple as the exhalation of a breath. After losing his gift, my emotional state and my inner fears were much more important on his list of priorities.

I turn the page of the book, picking up from the first sentence. What was it I read on the previous page? I sigh and slam the book shut, casting it on the table beside me.

I tuck my legs up under my thighs and cuddle under the blanket, now choosing to indulge in the solitary activity of sipping my tea and thinking of Vincenzo. He’s made it impossible for me to think of anything else.

Memories of last night take precedence on the pages of my mind. His warm breath on my neck, the feel of his strong arms around me, and the safety I suddenly found in his embrace.

I’ve never been able to let my guard down like that before or even let someone get close enough to make me feel something other than a sense of duty or responsibility.

But with Vincenzo, I felt an overwhelming pull to be vulnerable and open. He’s turned me into a person I never knew I had the capability of becoming.

Just then, the door creaks open. I turn to find him standing there. Even from this distance, the vivid blue of his eyes looks right at me, and the eyelashes on the corner lid are so thick that I can see them flutter.

“Hi there,” he whispers, his hands in the pockets of his brown corduroy trousers. The sleeves of his cream-colored shirt are rolled halfway up his arms, and I can see the bulge of muscle on his forearms. He’s got black suspenders on, and his tie is loose.

“Are all your meetings for the day done?” He’s been holed up in his office all day today, leaving me with the pleasure of my own company for breakfast and dinner.

I’ve seen one man after another rotate through his office, and I was worried if Vincenzo would have a chance to catch his breath.

“All done,” he sighs and rubs his forehead, trying to blink away his fatigue. He comes over, giving me his hand and pulling me up from the couch. He twines his arms over my shoulders, pulling me close.

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