Page 51 of Diavolo

Alessandro's fingers dug into her hips, pulling her cunt closer to his cock, as she demanded, "Is power all that you care about?"

"No," he answered, "but theacquisitionandaccumulationof power is not a choice for men like me. It is needed for survival, much like air or water or—"

His breath caught.

"Or what?"

"Fucking," he groaned. Alessandro had grown hard again. He rubbed against her pussy. "If I beg now,angelo, will you put an end to this miserable game?Let me in for fuck's sake."

She laughed. "Fuck me as much as you want, Mr. Vitale,afteryou convince me to marry you."

Elyse felt him twitch and swell between her legs. Her cunt throbbed in response, but—thank God—she was too tired to act on it.

"So," he deduced, "you will be mine on our wedding night?"

"I don't know," Elyse replied wearily. "Just don't die on me until I make my decision."

He grinned like the devil. "I will live. Just to spite you. And watch you walk down the aisle in a white dress.Toward me."

She bit back a smile. "You're being too optimistic."

"Regarding me—living?Or us—fucking?"Alessandro snorted. "I am very much a realist."

"Agree to disagree." Elyse yawned softly. Exhaustion clouded her thoughts. Matters remained unresolved between them, but Elyse decided tolet it restfor now and pursue the answers she sought another day. The need for sleep grew too strong to ignore. She yawned again.

Alessandro brushed his lips across her temple before rolling off of her to his side of the bed. "You can barely keep those lovely green eyes of yours open. I think we have talked enough for tonight. Get some rest. We have plans tomorrow."

She asked groggily, "What's going on tomorrow?"

"A charity ball. Black tie. You will be coming with me."

Elyse could only muster a sleepy grunt in response. With a small, tender smile, he reached over to clasp her hand."Sogni d'oro, cuore mio."

Thanks to the hours Elyse had been pouring into her Italian studies, she was pretty sure thatcuore miotranslated tomy heart.But where had this term of endearment come from? He’d never addressed her as such in the past. Before Elyse could summon the energy to ask about it, slumber overtook her.

As Elyse slept, Alessandro watched her. He couldn't seem to look away. In this moment, his brimming confidence seemed to dim with uncertainty. He laughed quietly to himself. Elyse didn't hear him at all when he confessed in the dark.

"There was a void.Here. Before you." He guided her palm to his chest, pressing it against the strong, steady beats. "Fuck me but I did not know what I was capable of feeling.Until you.”

The night stretched onward into a black nothingness. Elyse remained lost in her dreams. Eyes shut, breaths slow and deep, she didn't see the intimate, possessive way in which her smaller hand remained tucked in Alessandro's larger one until the first trickles of dawn crept through the windows. Nor did she feel him wrap his body around hers as though his flesh and bone might shield her from the dangers in his world. When Elyse awoke the following day, it was already noon. The taxing events from the past few days had taken a toll on her body. Elyse felt as though she had rested well, but her mind didn't feel fully recharged or refreshed. Her eyes flicked open. She glanced to the other side of the bed. It was empty.

Alessandro was already gone.

With a sigh, Elyse rolled out of bed to get herself ready for the day. A few minutes later, she wandered into the living room to check on Marcello. Malina was sitting beside him dutifully.

Elyse smiled at the housekeeper. "Thank you for watching over Marcello last night, Malina."

"Think nothing of it," she replied in her usual gracious, perfunctory manner.

Marcello was dozing on the couch. As Elyse started taking his vitals, he awoke with a start. His brown eyes shot open. Marcello gasped. "Dr. Romero!"

"Hello, Marcello," Elyse greeted him. "I hope you slept well last night?"

He quickly averted his gaze. "I-I did."

Marcello appeared to be the youngest out of Alessandro's three henchmen. Elyse placed him somewhere in his mid-twenties. He spoke with a slight lisp and appeared quite shy, wielding far less bluster than Monte or Luca.

A shrewd gleam sparkled in Malina's blue eyes. She teased, "Dr. Romero, it seems that you and Mr. Vitale are getting on...well?"

---