Page 135 of The Silence Lies

“You get a good look, Principessa?”

I raise a brow, my lips slowly turning up into a smile as I glance down at the package he’s been concealing. “Someone’s happy to see me,” I comment.

In a split second, Giovanni lunges forward, catching me by the arm and tugging me into the doorless shower. The water soaks through my oversized shirt, the material clinging to me. But what steals my attention is Giovanni.

He’s close, so breathtakingly close, that I’m frozen. His hot breath skates over my face, the fresh scent of mint blending with the citrus soap trailing down his bicep. For a second, I lose all cognitive thoughts. I’m drunk on Giovanni’s proximity, hooked on it until all I can think about is our bodies moving together.

Giovanni’s plump, wet lips lift at one corner. He raises a brow and looks down, his dark hair flopping in front of his face. In this moment, he just looks like a regular guy. Innocent and bashful, mysterious and profound.

“I’m always happy to see you, Principessa.”

Before I have the chance to reply, his lips are on mine. I thread my hands through the wet strands of his hair, letting him guide my mouth with his own as the torrent of warm water from the shower drenches us. I feel every well-earned muscle ripple as he pins me against the tiles. This guy isn’t just an adonis, he’s a goddamn higher-being.

He nips at my lips before diving his tongue past them, where he takes complete control. The two times we’ve kissed before have nothing on this one. He worships me, kissing me thoroughly, and I do my best to give it back to him with equal intensity. He plays my mouth like a kissing prodigy, knowing exactly what I like, where I like it and how to have me gasping for breath. I don’t have to second guess the spark between us because my pussy is throbbing from this contact alone.

All too soon, Giovanni pulls away, leaving both of us breathing heavily. “I thought you were going to speak to the guys?” he pants softly, leaning down to nip my ear.

I stifle a moan, but the urge to grind my hips against his cock takes over. “I did,” I whisper back, gripping his shoulders and arching my back, aching to get just a sliver of friction to relieve me.

Giovanni grabs the backs of my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist but still pinning me to the wall with his large body.

From this angle, I can feel all the hard ridges of his abs and pecs, and the press of his cock to my covered entrance has me tingling with anticipation.

“And?” he growls in my ear, making my pussy clench around nothing.

I lean forward, brushing my lips against his. “They have other things to talk about besides us.”

Giovanni quirks a brow, intrigue written all over his face. I don’t answer his silent question- it’s not for me to say what is happening between the guys in the den. When they’re ready, they’ll tell us. For now, I want to focus on this moment and explore this connection.

“I brought pizza,” I chirp, smiling at him sweetly.

“Hmm…” Giovanni grumbles, rubbing himself against me. “I’m not hungry for pizza.”

I know exactly what he’s hungry for, and after getting riled up by Levi and Luca, I’m more than ready for Giovanni.

I cup the back of his neck, using his strength to get level with him. “I know what you’re hungry for,” I tease, letting my weight drag over his shaft.

He groans back, his restraint clearly wavering as he grips me tighter. I know there are so many steps we’ve missed getting to this point. But if the last few months are anything to go off, I’d say that more than makes up for jumping a few steps.

I slide down Giovanni’s body, letting him guide me to my feet. My fingertips run down his arms, feeling his bulging biceps tense underneath my touch. I trace the ridges of his abs, the dressing still covering his bullet wound. A pinch of guilt twists at something inside of me, a hint of sadness coming to the forefront.

Giovanni grabs my hand, lifting it to his lips to kiss each finger. “I don’t regret a thing, Principessa.”

I nod, acknowledging just how deep his loyalty runs. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of someone willing to take a bullet for me. Even though it’s expected, there are reservations sitting in the back of my mind that nobody should have to do that, least of all for me.

I look up at Giovanni through my wet eyelashes, droplets of water running down my face. I take in every dark and enigmatic feature of his that I’ve yet to explore. I’ve only begun to scratch the surface on what makes my bodyguard the way he is. His loss, elusive and vague as his explanation was, clearly haunts him. He holds those broken parts like shards of glass he longs to repair. And I want every shattered, sharp edge of him. I want to be the one to help him mend them, help him move forward. I don’t know how to do that, but after Giovanni took a bullet for me, the least I can do is try.

Dropping to my knees, I run my hands down his thighs. Giovanni cups my chin, lifting it so my eyes meet his. “A queen should never get on her knees,” he rasps, thumbing my bottom lip.

“I thought I was principessa?” I retort playfully.

“For me, yes. To La Cosa Nostra, you’re their leader.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about that right now,” I say, running my palms over his tight stomach. “I want this.”

I lean forward, kissing Giovanni’s right thigh. “I want you.” I kiss his left thigh. “I want to fall apart with you.”

He nods down at me, a silent confirmation that we both want this.

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