Page 54 of Silent Vows

She answers me with another kiss, just as fervent and desperate as the first. My hands find the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards, and she lifts her arms to help me remove it.

Our clothes come off in a frenzy, each layer discarded without a second thought, but my shirt stays on to protect my stitches. Her skin is warm and inviting, her touch electric.

I slide my hand between us, fingers seeking, finding, and she gasps against my mouth, her hips bucking in response as I curl my fingers inside her. Fuck, she’s sowet.

“You’re always so wet for me, Bella,” I whisper into her ear.

“Matteo,” she breathes before she bites down, muffing a cry. “Oh, please,don’t stop.”

The electricity of our bodies ignites. We are two ravenous beasts, consumed by the desire to please one another.

Her hands search their way down my body as I finger her, caressing my abdomen before finally resting around my hardened cock.

I reciprocate her passion with fervor. Both of us are in the same rhythm of pleasing each other, relentless as we build each other with pleasure higher and higher until a chorus of soft moans rips through the medical suite.

I push my fingers harder and she claws at my back while I thrust my hand into her depths, each motion propelling us toward the apex of climax.

“I want to be inside you,” I whisper into her ear before I remove my hand from her slick pussy, drawing out a whimper from her.

Without warning, I enter her, and it’s like coming home, her warmth enveloping me, drawing me deeper into her.

The sensation is overwhelming—her tightness around me, the way she clenches and relaxes, the slick heat that surrounds me. Every thrust feels like heaven, each movement drawing us closer together. Her moans are muffled against my lips, but I can feel them vibrating through me, a testament to the pleasure I’m giving her. She’s lost in it, her eyes closed, her body arching against mine, and it drives me wild knowing I’m the one bringing her to this level of ecstasy.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

Bella’s eyes flutter shut, a soft smile playing at her lips. “I love you, too,” she murmurs again, and it sends another wave of warmth crashing through me.

We move together, a rhythm as old as time, our bodies locked in a dance of passion and desperation. It’s different this time. Sweeter, slower. As if we’re savoring every second, every touch, every heartbeat. I look down at her, at her flushed cheeks, herparted lips, the way her eyes are fixed on mine, and I can’t help but think that this—this moment, this woman—is everything I’ve ever wanted.

And when I finally reach the edge, when the pleasure crests and I fall apart, it’s her name that’s on my lips, her face that fills my vision.

I collapse against her, my face buried in between her breasts, the room filled with the sounds of our pants as we try to steady our breathing. My arm is burning and screaming but I don’t care.

The intensity of what we’ve just shared leaves me feeling both exhilarated and vulnerable. Everything in this past week—the fear, the violence, the desperate need to protect what’s mine—has culminated in this moment. Her body trembles against mine, both of us catching our breath in the aftermath of passion that was somehow both fiercer and more tender than anything we’ve shared before.

I pull back just enough to look at her, drinking in the sight of her on my lap. Her dark hair spills around her like ink, and the afternoon sun paints her skin gold. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—not because she’s perfect, but because she’s real. Because she knows exactly what I am, what I’ve done, and still looks at me like this.

Tears glisten in her eyes as she whispers, “I love you.”

It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. Three words I never thought I’d hear again after Sophia, never thought I’d want to hear. But this is different. Everything about Bella is different.

Where Sophia was arranged, a marriage made of duty and manipulation and coercion, Bella crashed into my life like a force of nature. Where Sophia played the perfect Mafia wife, all calculated moves and hidden agendas, Bella challenges me atevery turn. Fights me. Saves me. Forces me to be better even as she accepts my darkness.

A fierce need burns inside me to take her again, to hear her scream my name until it’s the only word she knows. But I need to have more control than that. We both need to dress, to face whatever crisis Johnny’s latest move will bring.

I help her up, both of us moving slowly, reluctantly. Her skin is marked with evidence of my passion—small marks blooming on her throat. Possessive satisfaction wars with tenderness as I watch her dress, each piece of clothing hiding the proof of what we’ve shared.

“What are you thinking?” she asks softly as she slips on her blouse. There’s a new intimacy in her voice that makes my chest ache.

“That I never thought I’d have this again.” I pull on my own clothes, wincing slightly as the movement pulls at my stitches. “After Sophia…I locked everything away. Convinced myself I was better off alone.”

“And now?” She moves to help me with my buttons, her artist’s hands gentle against my chest.

“Now I know I was wrong. What I felt for Sophia…” I catch her hands, pressing them against my heart. “It wasn’t this. It wasneverthis.”

A knock at the door interrupts whatever she might have said. We pull apart slowly, reluctantly, to find Bianca standing there. My daughter’s expression is a mix of amusement and concern that reminds me eerily of her mother.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, not sounding sorry at all, “but Antonio says we have a problem. Johnny’s been spotted…at Elena’s apartment.”

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