Page 34 of Disarming Caine

“I can’t lose you again.” She choked the words out, latching tighter with her leg and arms.

“Never, amore.” I kissed her, softly.

But her leg pulled me to her harder, and I picked up speed, burying myself deeper, trying to purge the evening’s terror from her mind. We moved as one, her hips meeting me, the ecstasy growing rapidly.

I drove into her, her gasps fueling my grunts. It was primal, full of urgent need. Every thrust one moreI love youandI missed youandI’m so sorry. I needed her, and she needed me.

“Oh god, Antonio! Please!”

Tightening my fist in her hair and digging my fingertips into the flesh of her luscious ass, I launched her over the edge. She rocked her head back in a silent wail of climax as I exploded inside her, her body spasming around me. Rapture rolled from me into her and an aftershock hit her, bringing her to a second rapid orgasm.

I continued moving until she finished, reveling in every moment with her. We breathed the same air, our bodies calming from their peak.

“I missed you.” Her words flowed out on a long exhale, so quiet I almost didn’t hear them over the blood still pounding in my ears. She held so much back, but her love was there, no matter how afraid she was of giving her heart to me.

All these years, dating a long string of women, looking for one who’d love me for me, not for my body or my bank account. I was a hypocrite, upset Samantha wanted me for exactly the things I hoped for. I had to stop worrying about her rejecting me, about Nathan Miller, about all the scars in my past, or I would simply push her away.

“I love you, Samantha.” The words tripped off my tongue as though my mouth was designed for them. I straightened enough to see her clearly, her heavy lids and soft smile causing my heart to beat faster. “I’ve dreamed of this moment for one hundred and four days.”

When I tried to withdraw, her leg wouldn’t release me. She cupped my face and stroked my cheeks with her thumbs. Staring and blinking, the sign she was thinking of important things, unsure what she felt secure enough to say. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never.” I held myself inside her, basking in her tenderness, at the look in her eyes when the walls around her heart dropped for just a moment. In those eyes, I saw my love for her returned. If only I could leap over those walls before they went back up and live in that world with her.

Instead, I bit her bottom lip.

“Take me to bed,” she breathed through a suppressed chuckle. “My leg’s getting tired.”

“I didn’t think your legs ever got tired.” With a smirk, I pulled out of her and zipped my fly. “Time for the teasing to begin, sì?”

She laughed. “Uh oh, I’m in trouble now!”

“The best kind of trouble.” I winked and leaned down, grabbing around her thighs, and threw her over my good shoulder. Pain tore through my back, but it was worth it—she squealed and smacked my ass when I straightened. On our way to the bedroom, I flung her long jacket over her head, hoisted up her skirt, and sank my teeth playfully into one luscious cheek.

Another smack to my ass. “You’re gonna pay for that, Ferraro!”

“I’m counting on it, Caine.”

She was feeling better, and I’d done that for her. Now I had eleven more nights to show her how much I loved her, how there would never be another woman so perfect for me.

But more importantly, I had eleven nights to help her realize she loved me as well.

Chapter 13

Antonio

Theflamesfromthegas fireplace danced around the quiet bedroom the next morning, the only noise Samantha’s steady breath. She claimed to always wake at five, but it was almost six and she lay sprawled on her front on the far side of the oversized bed. I’d been awake for an hour already, despite us not getting to sleep until two.

I’d designed the room like a cocoon, all grays and creams with cherrywood furniture. Three of my paintings hung on the walls, green and blue pieces, which evoked memories of foggy mornings on the shores of Napoli.

From the reading nook window, I scanned the dark town, the street and vehicle lights nothing but a blur. The shooter was lurking out there somewhere. Two shootings in the past week. Had her investigation in Napoli caught up with us again? Or was it merely a coincidence?

I moved to the edge of the bed to watch her sleep, hung my things up in the half-empty closet, considered running a bath. Flipped through three books. Stared at the fire. Nothing settled me.

Finally, I sank into the plush chaise longue between the curtained balcony doors, watching her continue to breathe. Continue to live.

Thank everything in the entire universe I ran into that table.

A pinging noise startled me, and her hand flung to the bedside table, to her phone. She groaned quietly, looked at it, and put it back down. With a yawn, she stretched and reached behind her, to the bare spot where I’d slept. She rolled over slowly, likely taking in all the details of the room.

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