Page 61 of Immoral

"No, we can't," I agree.

"How do I help you get past this?"

My pulse races. "I can't answer that question."

Gianni's slow, calculated breaths make me believe he's counting again. His thumb strokes my jaw, and an expression I've never seen before overtakes his features. It takes me a moment to realize its vulnerability. And vulnerable is something Gianni doesn't ever allow himself to be. He asks, "Do you know what it was like for me to see you with him?"

My stomach flips. I shift on his lap, saying nothing.

"You wanted to hurt me, didn't you, tesoro?"

My mouth turns dry. My insides quiver. Once I was back in New York and Gianni found out I was with Uberto, he warned me about him. When I wouldn't break it off, he accused me of staying with Uberto only to get back at him. As much as I denied it and tried to convince myself that wasn't the case, a small part of me relished the fact Gianni hated Uberto. It was like karma was finally catching up to him for all the misery he put me through.

Gianni takes a few deep breaths, not breaking our gaze. Pain enters his expression, which I've never seen before. He quietly confesses, "You did."

Those two words of admission should give me some satisfaction. At times, I assumed he didn't have a heart and was untouchable on an emotional level. Surprisingly, his statement doesn't make me happy how I thought it would. I blurt out, "I'm sorry."

He takes his index finger and drags it from my forehead down the side of my cheek. His next declaration throws me for another loop. It's not in Gianni's wheelhouse to ever admit fault. He states, "It's okay. I fully deserved it."

Speechless, I stare at him. My heart races faster. He doesn't move, and the vulnerable expression never leaves. I assumed hurting him would give me some gratification, but the exact opposite occurs. A wall crumbles within me. I slide my hands over his cheeks and reiterate, "I'm sorry," then kiss him, sliding my tongue against his, the moment his lips part.

Everything disappears. It's like striking a match and burning everything around us. His hand slides in my hair behind my head. His other arm tugs me closer while his palm squeezes my bare ass cheek. My knees hit the back of the couch, and I do everything I can to get closer.

His erection grows, freeing itself from his boxers, and I sink on it, clutching him tighter. He allows me to ride him, slides his thumb between us, then circles my clit.

Heat flushes my body, growing so hot, sweat pops out on my skin. "Oh God," I whisper, grinding on him faster.

He slows his thumb, demanding, "Tell me you love me still."

I fight with my heart that wants to give in, and my brain that says not to admit anything. "Gianni, don't..." Emotions choke me. I'm unable to continue, too frightened of being honest and how Gianni will eventually use it to hurt me, even if he isn't planning on it.

He leans into my ear. His breath sends fresh tingles down my spine. "I know you still love me. Just give me this one thing, Cara. Tell me that the tiniest part of your heart still loves me."

I squeeze my arms around him as tight as possible so I don't have to look at him. I swivel my hips faster, wanting the release for both of us so I can avoid falling prey to him again.

But like always, I'm not in control.

Gianni is.

"Admit it's barely there, but exists, my tesoro. And I'll make your pussy clench my cock so hard, you won't think there's anything left to give me the rest of the night."

My butterflies flutter faster. More sweat breaks out. A haze fills my sight. My body doesn't only want what he offers, it craves it. It's always craved it. When he has me like this, I can't reason. All it takes is one more prompt.

He thrusts up, teasing my G-spot, and growls, "I love you. Tell me you still love me."

"I still love you," I cry out.

Everything in my body turns into chaos. Adrenaline explodes from cell to cell like a minefield detonating. It's a drug you can't reproduce. The high is too potent. Once it starts, it's so powerful, I become an addict lost in Gianni's body.

He's the perfect dealer, giving me hit after hit but not taking any himself, driving me to the point I'm a junkie owned by his touch. I faintly comprehend his words. "Fuck, tesoro. This is how it was always meant to be. You and me."

I whimper, collapsing against him, a rag doll inside his strong embrace. The endorphins continue to rush through me until he grabs my hip and holds me still.

I bury my face in his neck, trying to catch my breath, not able to piece together all the words he murmurs in my ear.

Time slowly brings me back to reality. I stay in the cocoon of his warmth, trying to forget I admitted I still love him.

One thing I know about Gianni Marino is once he gets what he wants, he'll never let you forget it. Now that I gave him a taste of what he wanted, he'll use it to his advantage. It'll be at a moment when I'm least expecting it, powerless and unable to stop whatever it is he wants to happen.

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