Page 60 of Straight, No Chaser
I take my time with her. Savoring each second she gives me. So fucking fearful she’ll regret, in the light of day, of having my cock inside her. Of allowing her heart to welcome me back into her arms if not her life.
She’s so close. Hips meeting mine with each thrust. Heavy breaths blowing against my hair. Fingertips clutching my back muscles, flexing and tightening as much as my balls.
“I still love you Luciano. I never stopped loving you.”
Fuck me. “I love you too.”
I push out the words through gritted teeth, exploding inside her like a fucking volcano. All the pent up frustration and fear and shame releasing with her forgiveness of me. My hips bucking over and over against her, unable to stop even in my exhaustion. I need her to be mine again.
She clutches me tight. Never loosening even as my body slows and droops over hers. My dick softening inside her yet unwilling to release her completely.
Tangled together, I shift my weight and lay next to her. My leg and arm slung across her delicate body. Relishing her sweet scent and silky skin. Peace filling my soul from her relaxed expression. “Are you okay?”
“I guess I shouldn’t be after everything that’s happened, but somehow I am.”
“Me too angel.”
So fucking adorable when her nose scrunches up and a light blush glows on her cheeks. “I do need to go to the bathroom though.”
“Okay.”
Loathing the loss of her touch, I roll off the mattress and lift her up, tucking her into my side. She takes tentative steps, leaning against me until we reach the tile and she releases my arm. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, thank you.”
A bit more color brightens her face when she steps back in the bedroom after a few minutes. More stability to her gait that releases some of the concern straining in my muscles. But my reprieve shatters when she heads to the chair instead of the bed. Wobbling as she tries to pull on her dress. I jet over to steady her and yank the fabric out of her shaking hands. “What the fuck are you doing?”
A sigh blows through her swollen lips. Aware I mean so much more than hiding her gorgeous body from me.
"That doesn’t fix things.” She nods to the bed. Sheets still crumpled from our love making. The musky scent of our arousal floating through the air. “As much as I love you, I can’t be with you. I know you’ll never be honest with me. You’ll never really share yourself with me. It’s too much?.”
Fuck this. Fighting through the damage to my jacked up leg and mutilated heart, I scoop her up, surprise granting me a few seconds before she tries to twist out of my arms. She wants to know so god damn bad, then I’m going to fucking tell her. Then she’ll at least know what she’s punishing me for. Understand the reasons we're both ending up alone.
“Put me down!”
I toss her on the bed. She thrashes back and forth, her hands shoving against me. Unable to do a damn thing with my huge fingers clamped around her shoulder and thigh. “Stop fucking fighting me. You know I’ll never hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”
Rage seethes her muscles from me overpowering her. I push her onto her side so fast she can’t do anything but fucking roll over. I jerk her back against my chest, yanking the covers over us. An elbow to my ribs that does nothing but fucking turn me on.
“Damn it, Molly. Lay still, or I’ll spank your pretty little ass too.”
A huge huff rustles the sheets but at least she settles down. Anger stiffening her defiant posture. Crossing her arms over her chest in righteous indignation.
Somehow it’s easier to talk to her this way. Not see her beautiful face crumble because of me. Not watch her repulsion when I confess my sins. Admit all the crimes I’m guilty of. Seeking forgiveness I’m not used to.
Trying to find my lame ass courage, I blow out a deep breath making goosebumps sprinkle across her shoulder. That would look so fucking gorgeous with my brand on her ivory skin. "I'm a mobster. I do illegal shit. Gambling. Drugs. Insurance fraud. The feds are breathing down my neck and they could show up any minute with a warrant to throw my ass in jail. Is that what you want to hear? Is that what you really want to know?"
This time a small gasp rattles in her chest. Uncertain if it’s from my admission or my antagonizing tone. But fury battles with fear that I’ve already lost her, and I can’t hold back my ferocity.
"I kill people. With these hands." I release her waist and hold one out to her, still balled into a fist, before I unclench my fingers and point at the night stand. "With that gun."
This time I rest my hand on my own thigh, clutching my sweat pants. Letting her choose if she wants to stay. If she wants to listen to the rest of the truth.
"Or my men do it from my orders. They’re the ones who attacked Hunter. Because I told them to."
She flinches but doesn’t move. Her body remains stiff and unyielding. "Th-that really was you."
"Damn fucking straight it was. He fucking hurt you. So if you think for even a second that I'm sorry, I'm not. I killed that bastard, and I’m glad he’s dead."
