Page 30 of The Vatican
To my husband.
Chapter 16
Francisco~
Her footsteps echoed in the silence of the entire penthouse. I knew she’d find me eventually as she’s been to my house a million times. She knew this place as well as her own.
I was sitting in my office, my suit jacket and tie long gone. The top two buttons of my dress shirt were open, and the sleeves were rolled up to my elbows. I had needed to breathe after leaving my parents’ house, but it hadn’t helped.
I still felt like there was an anvil on my chest.
Saveria’s footsteps stopped in the doorway of the office. I was sitting at my desk, my eyes on the third glass of bourbon in my hand, not even pretending to know what to do next. She stepped farther into the room, and when I looked up, I noticed her eyes were rimmed in redness.
I had made the girl cry on her wedding day.
“Would it change anything if I told you I loved you?” I asked, knowing I had nothing left to lose. “That I’ve always been in love with you?”
She didn’t say anything at first, but when she did, I laughed and downed the rest of my drink. “I’m going to go take a shower.” She lifted her overnight bag for emphasis.
I couldn’t look at her anymore. I nodded my permission and resented that I had the power to give it at the same time. “Fine.”
I don’t know how long I remained in my office, but I knew I needed to get away from the liquor. I headed towards the bedroom, knowing I wasn’t going to be sleeping in my bed tonight, but when I passed the bathroom door, I heard crying, and it nearly sent me to my knees.
The door wasn’t locked, so I pushed it open, and when I did, I saw Saveria with her arms wrapped around her waist, the water pouring over her, crying.
I quickly undressed and opened the glass door. Saveria looked up and the regret in those rare eyes of her was like a punch in the chest. “Baby…”
“Make me believe you, Francisco,” she pleaded, and my name falling from her lips was enough to push me over the edge.
I grabbed her thighs, lifted her, and slammed her against the wall as her legs wrapped around my waist. It wasn’t lost on me how we’d been in this same exact position the first time we ever came together and now we were coming together the same way for the first time as husband and wife.
Her arms came around my neck, and she was kissing me back with the same desperation I was feeling in my soul. Her hands were tangled in my wet hair, holding me close, and afraid she might stop or change her mind, I rammed my cock into her tight pussy so hard, I could feel the tear in her flesh.
Saveria broke off the kiss and let out a blood-curling scream.
But I didn’t stop.
I pulled out and slammed into her again. “I love you,” I chanted, even though I was fucking her as if I didn’t. “I love you, Luca.”
Her nails were digging into my skin, and this night was becoming every bit as violent as the night I first took her. This wasn’t about sex. This wasn’t about self-gratification. This wasn’t about love, or respect, or any of those things.
This was Ria begging me to steal all her pain and anger away. She wanted the physical to drown out the emotional. She wanted tofeelhow sorry I was.
“More,” she cried out. “Please, Francisco…” My cock pulsed at the sound of my name coming out of the mouth that always called me Benetti.
My mouth found the sensitive skin along the delicate column of her neck, and I bit down on that motherfucker until copper spilled on my tongue. Satisfied with my mark, I ran my lips up her neck until I had her earlobe between my teeth. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” she breathed shamelessly. “Give me everything.”
My fingers dug into her thighs as her back kept breaking against the wall. I shoved my cock into her tight warmth as far as it could go. “You want my cock?”
Saveria moaned and dug her nails deeper into my flesh. “Yes.”
I pounded into her over, and over again, trying to prove with my body what she didn’t believe in my words. “I’ve always loved you,” I grunted. “It’s always been you. It should have always been you.Onlyyou.” My thrusts became more forceful with each word. Resentment at our parents pushing me to drive our shared anger from both our broken souls.
“Francisco…” she whimpered, taking the beating.
Takingme.
