Page 85 of Petrichor

“And who am I going to use as my personal bed-slash-pillow during the night?” It doesn’t matter that I exchanged my bed with a Japanese futon, because he only sleeps on top of me with my cock deep inside him—unless he feels like sucking on it, and in those cases I wait for him to conk out before pulling him up over my chest.

“Do you already have someone in mind who could take my place,Fly?” My grip on his hips turns possessive.

“Are you accusing me of mentally cheating?” He snorts derisively.

“Is it Santo?” I relentlessly question him, as the green monster starts whispering ugly suspicions inside my ear. Fly could tempt the straightest fucker on earth since he already did it with me. “Or the prick behind the counter at the bakery you always go to?”

“Are you joking?” His eyes widen with disbelief.

“Does it look like I’m fucking joking?” I growl angrily. How the hell did we end up talking about this? From the start, Fly has hadthe capacity to create powerful, overwhelming emotions inside me, good and dark ones.

He pulls back slightly. “What’s with the sudden jealousy? You know I have eyes only for you, you moronic thug!”

That I know. I open my mouth, but he doesn’t let me talk. “I love you, and I don’t want you to change, but I can’t keep my mouth shut when you blabber idiocies like me and other men.”

His fearless attitude and utter acceptance of me is what made me surrender to him. Fly is it for me, and I’m trying to tell him that.

I drop my arms as he takes a step back. “Fuck, would you let me get a word out?”

“Why?” He crosses his arms with a disgruntled expression on his face. “So you can keep growling at me, just like you did to that skunk, choking on your cock in this very bathroom?”

I groan, why is he bringing that up now? “And yet you were already half in lust with me.” I grab his hair and tilt his head up to stare at his beautiful eyes, nose, cheeks, and lips. “You begged to suck on my dick.”

He hisses like an affronted cat, digging his tiny nails into my chest.

“Shut up and listen. Please.” The please I add at the end makes him freeze and furrow his eyebrows.

“I had everything I wanted. Women, money, power, a family I’d die for, a job I fucking love, and I still felt so angry. I was missing something. Something vital. Until you walked into this very bathroom with those iridescent eyes and shameless mouth. It started to change.”

“What did?” he whispers. His palms are flat, caressing my chest now.

“My life. It was hard to recognize what was going on at first. But my priorities started to shift, and I felt calmer inside, more grounded.” I didn’t feel the need to drink anymore. “I thought my life’s purpose was keeping my family safe.”

“Not telling people off?” he interjects again with a teasing tone.

“That’s more of a hobby.” I mirror his smirk for a moment. And as I slide the box out of my pocket, I keep going, “Ten years ago, the night I lost a part of me I gained something else. It’s you Joel.” His eyes fall shut. I know he hates hearing his name because it reminds him of his past, but I want him to know. “It took time to finally make you mine, but I see you,amore mio—all of you. You are what I need most.” I grab his hand and slide the platinum ring on his finger. His eyes snap open to gawk at the princess cut diamond.

“I chose this ring because of itsbutterflyeffect. Can you see the dark shadowcaused by the way light is obstructed by your body? Light and shadow. It reminded me of what we have. Our story is not pure, nor flawless, but it’s fucking extraordinary all the same.”

Tears are running down his cheeks as he chuckles happily. “I’ve been waiting for you all my life, Marco Moretti. You chased all the agonizing loneliness away. I finally feel safe.”

Safe. Only Fly can say that about me. For most people, I’m a ruthless, unfeeling mobster, Don Sebastiano’s right hand, Marco ‘the Knuckle’ Moretti. For him? I’ll be his protector, his lover. His whole fucking world.

It might seem too soon to propose, but risking my life everyday urges me to grab what is mine and never let go. And the way Fly’s devouring my lips confirms he feels the same way. Not that I’d have let him reject me, anyway. I had cuffs, ropes, and a ton of gelato ready at the penthouse.

He climbs me like a tree and then moans in my mouth. His fresh rain scent engulfs me as I cage him against the wall—the smell of happiness. He feels so fucking good in my arms, against me like he was meant to be there.

We are the perfect match, made in blood and drops of rain. Inexplicably, our broken pieces fit together.

It is believed that butterflies stop flying when it rains because they could damage their wings, but I think that what they really do is savor the beauty of nature—just like my Joel—the sight of every single drop kissing the earth, the sound of crying water pelting down, the sweet, rich smell of petrichor.

Fly

My heart trembles with happiness just like the first time I saw Marco’s face as he pulls on my hand, taking me back to the table. I’m still in a daze. Spellbound. Did he just stake his claim on me? I felt totally his even before that–I think a part of me has always been since that night. Butputting a ring on itfeels like more.

It’s heavy on my finger. I’m so touched by the meaning behind it, I can’t stop smiling. Marco is rough and aloof, but he’s also capable of such worthwhile acts that have the power to take my breath away in the most incredible way.

My heart makes that odd vibration again as I take my seat near him. Our laced hands are on his strong thigh as he signals the waiter. His face is blank as usual, but I can feel his satisfaction in the firm grip on my fingers and the possessive vibe he’s emanating.

---