Page 58 of Unforgivable Ties

“Just a minute,” he murmured, taking his condom off and tossing it in the trash bin. He quickly returned right next to me, wrapping his arms around me, stroking my hair.

The two of us just laid in silence for a while, basking in the euphoria of our shared passion. We held each other close as the perspiration evaporated off our heated skin into the cool night air, his fingers tracing lazy circles into my back.

“Before I forget,” he said.

He kissed his way back down to my inner thigh and left one more mark; a visual way to remind me about our euphoric night together. His rough fingertips grazed the tender skin there, causing me to shiver with a sudden rush of unexpected pleasure.

“I don’t think there’s enough yet. Let’s get some water and then I’ll add more,” he teased, his voice low and husky.

“Wait...you’re joking, right?” I asked. My body already felt like jelly from just the first round, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to walk properly tomorrow.

“Not at all,” he said, motioning to his already half hard length. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you. There’s a lot of gas in the tank.”

The two of us didn’t fall asleep until the early morning, and I ended the night with nine hickies on my inner thigh.

Vincenzo

Iawoke and saw Stephanie’s sleeping form next to mine. She wasn’t sleeping gracefully, like how romance novels or TV portrayed it. Her hair was tangled and sticking different directions from how long we had gone at it last night, and drool was leaking out of her mouth and on to the pillow as she slept soundly. Her brows were furrowed slightly, as if she were trying to solve a complex math problem in her dreams.

Last night had been better than I could have ever imagined. Being inside of her for the first time had been a collision of chemistry and pent-up desires, a volcano of emotion that erupted into something far bigger than I could have ever imagined. The feel of her skin against mine, the scent of her hair, the little gasps she let out as we moved together in perfect harmony—I knew I’d never be able to let her go now.

Stephanie was mine. I would kill any other men who hurt or touched her, just like David.

As I lay there next to her, taking in the sight of her, I couldn’t help but trace the delicate curve of her shoulder with my fingertip, lingering on a small birthmark that I’d discoveredlast night. It was shaped like a tiny star, and I remembered how it had felt under my lips when I kissed it.

Her eyelids fluttered open, but she was so sleepy she hadn’t quite joined the world of the living. Stephanie wiped the drool off her lips, blinking rapidly to wake up.

“Sorry,” I said, retracting my hand off her birthmark. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine.”

She had wiped the drool off her chin and was now rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Even when she looked like a hot mess, she was adorable.

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, pulling her naked form into mine.

“Like the dead,” she sighed. “I’m surprised my body still works after how hard you fucked me.”

My dick twitched at her response, remembering the feel of her underneath me last night.

“Then I did my job well,” I grinned, running my hands along her back.

I could get used to this; waking up next to her every morning, our bodies intertwined from post-sex bliss. Yes, now that she was mine, I would keep her in this bed, my cock buried inside her cunt as long as she could handle it.

“So, um,” she hesitated, slightly moving away from me. “I think I should move out.”

All the visions I had of keeping her close to me cracked into jagged shards of glass, piercing the tranquil morning with her words. No, it wouldn’t do, not now. Now that I knew what it felt like to have her in my arms.

“What? Why?” I said, trying and failing to hold back the panic and anger in my voice.

“Well...you said it yourself. You don’t bring women home,” she paused, chewing on her lower lip. “Let alone have one live with you. And I don’t want things to get weird.”

“Weird? Everything about us is weird, Steph. We met when you found me bleeding out on a warehouse floor,” I said, trying to tame the mess of her hair. “I near blackmailed you into working for the mafia, and in a twisted turn of events, we ended up in bed with each other like those romance novels on your Kindle.”

“You know about those?!” she sputtered, her face turning bright red.

“You bet I do. I couldn’t help but notice you have a thing for reading mafia romance novels,” I stated, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “An oddly specific taste, if you ask me.”

I thought she might turn into a tomato with how red she was. Her red face and auburn hair contrasted starkly with the white sheets of the bed. She was avoiding my gaze now, fidgeting under the covers, her fingers twisting in the fabric.

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