Page 39 of The Devil's Den

“Because you deserve more than this mattress. You deserve someone who can give you more than I can.” I swallow against the lump buried in my throat.

“I don’t want more. I want you.” Her palm clasps tighter over my cheek, her eyes glistening. “It’s always been you, Matteo. That’ll never stop.”

My heart shatters because it can’t be me.

In our years together, we’ve never discussed her dating or getting married to someone else. She’s never brought it up, and I was too afraid to. But soon enough, even with her being locked up here, in this prison, her father will eventually want her to marry some asshole, right? And I’ll probably still be here. Or dead.

I curl my fist at my side.

I can’t think about not being around and leaving her alone in this world where nothing good happens.

But she and I, we aren’t destined for each other. It’s the truth I’ll carry with me because I can’t break her heart and say those words out loud.

Nothing about us is normal. Stolen kisses every day, hand holding and tender touches, that’s what we’ve been.

But now as we’ve gotten older, things have changed. Our bodies have too. And goddamn, I may not know what the hell to do, but as she rocks her hips against my cock, I have the urge to rip off her clothes and pretend I do.

“Matteo,” she whispers, her arms draped around my neck. Her lips tentatively reach for the corner of my mouth, kissing softly as I groan, both of my hands spilling in her hair, my fingers tightening around the weight of it, pushing her further into my straining hard-on.

In all this time, neither of us has told the other that we love them. I don’t know if she feels it like I do, like she’s embedded in the marrow of my soul, but I feel it. Every damn day. Like she was born to be mine.

I’ve been afraid to tell her. Not because she’d reject me, but because I never saw the point in confessing it when there’s nothing we can do about it. That’s always been my fear. Feeling the weight of our love and not living it.

But now, with the way she looks at me, I realize I had it all wrong. We may not be able to love each other the way others do, out in the world, but we can love each other here. Our way. However long we have. I’ll love her always. Until I can’t. Until my heart stops beating.

It’s then I realize, maybe we can find these small moments of love in between fragments of tragedy, like they’re actually there, reminding us they still exist.

“Aida,” I growl, fisting her hair as I find her mouth, kissing her desperately, my lips moving in sync with hers as she grinds over me, my cock throbbing, wanting to know what it feels like to be that connected with her body and her heart.

My tongue sinks into her mouth, teasing the tip of hers. Damn, this feels so good. Like it’s right. The way it’s supposed to be.

Her moans only give me more courage, and I suck on her lower lip while her hips ride circles over me. I’m aching to be inside her, wanting to show her just how much she means to me.

I move a fraction, cupping her cheek in the palm of my hand, finding those heavy-lidded eyes. “I love you, Aida. So damn much.” She gasps, her brows snapping. “I’m sorry I never told you sooner, because I’ve wanted to. So badly.” I push her forehead against mine, her hot breaths rushing past my lips. “I’ve loved you before I even knew what that word meant.” I pull away, needing to look at her. “And if it weren’t for you, I’d have died a thousand times over.” Her eyes gleam with a fresh coat of tears, her hand resting against my neck, my pulse speeding even more. “You’re the only one keeping me here, and I’m not sorry about it. Because for you, I’d endure all the torture in the world. Because you’re worth it.”

Her chest rattles as her arms jump around my neck, her face burrowing in my shoulder as she cries, her body swaying with emotion.

“I love you too, Matteo,” she pants, looking back at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it either. I think I was afraid you didn’t feel the same, that you didn’t think of me that way. That I wasn’t…”

“Wasn’t what?” My eyes widen.

“Wasn’t pretty enough.” She lowers her gaze, those auburn lashes fluttering.

“Aida…” I give her a tiny smirk, lifting her chin up with my index finger. “How many times do I have to prove to you that I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world? Why the hell would I kiss you the way I do if I didn’t think you were pretty?”

She shrugs with a small smile. “Because you’re bored?”

“I’m notthatbored.” I chuckle, leaning my lips forward, kissing her forehead. “But you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m very much into you.” My voice lowers. “Or I wouldn’t be hard right now.”

She bites into her bottom lip with a gasp, palms against my chest, her breathing growing tattered.

“You’re perfect. Not just for me. For anyone. And I’ll always love you, even when I’m not here to do it.”

“Don’t say that,” she cries, laying her lips to mine, peppering my mouth, my face, with more kisses than I can count. I smile, the warmth filling my veins like only she can provide. “I don’t ever want to think about you being gone. Okay?” She gazes back at me. “I want to think about us old and wrinkly together.”

I chuckle. “Am I still cute when I’m old?”

She scrunches her face. “Who said you were cute?”

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