Page 14 of Her Brutal First Love

One breathlessly spoken word, and he realized that this was all a trap.

Tears had been her bait, and he had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

But before he could pull away, she was already rubbing herself against him, and he hungered for her far too much to even think of denying himself.

He had her up against the wall in moments, her dress bunched around her waist, his pants unzipped, in another. While it took everything in him not to groan Sarica's name as he sank his length inside of her, the same constraints did not apply to her. She moaned his name with complete abandon—-

Giancarlo.

Please...

Please don't stop...

Would she still be this vocal if she realized that the guards stationed by the elevator could likely hear her?

A fierce rush of satisfaction filled Giancarlo at the thought of people knowing how much his Sarica wanted him, and his thrusts took on a roughness that had Sarica clawing his back.

Yes, yes, yes.

Her desire for him was his undoing.

I'm so close, Giancarlo.

I'm so—-

Aaaaaah.

They came at the same time, Sarica crying out as he suckled hard on her neck.

If only.

If only this moment could last forever.

If only.

But time was unstoppable, and Sarica's tremulous words were the first to break the silence between them.

"I already know it's you, Giancarlo."

Sarica's voice shook as her fingers found his face in the darkness, tracing the new scars, memorizing the changes sixteen months had wrought. "So p-please let me see you. And I p-promise. I won't ask any questions you don't want to answer. It doesn't matter what you say or don't say." Her voice broke, the sound piercing his heart. "I'm going to wait for you the way you waited for me all those years."

Sarica waited for Giancarlo to speak with desperate hope. But instead of words, he chose to answer her with a simple little click of a light switch, and the sound waseverything.

She started to sob as she finally saw him clearly, her trembling fingers tracing the chiseled lines of the face that had consumed her thoughts and dreams for the past six months.

Thank You, God.

Thank You.

She couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop thanking God enough because she knew this would have been impossible without Him.

The silver in Giancarlo's hair had spread slightly; a wider streak that made him look even more distinguished despite his leaner and harder frame. But what broke her heart the most was his eyes, oh God.

His eyes were still the most precious windows to his soul, and in it, she already knew just how much he had suffered in the sixteen months that he was gone.

She traced his lips with care, a part of her still in shock that the Giancarlo before her was no longer an illusion. "It's really you," she couldn't help but whisper, and a sardonic smile twisted over the lips she had just touched.

"Now, you have doubts?" His tone was mocking, but she could hear the strain beneath it, could see the muscle ticking in his jaw.

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