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I tense at Luca’s voice.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
There’s only one thing I want more than Antonio’s mouth between my legs pleasuring me: Antonio alive.
If anyone catches us, he won’t have a tongue to eat me out with.
“Antonio.” I tap his head.
He ignores me, and my legs tremble. This man gives no fucks about risking his life to keep his tongue between my legs. I’m soclose, and the sensation of his tongue overtakes me. He restrains me, licking and sucking, and his fingers join his tongue.
I buck my hips against his face as he relentlessly tongue- and finger-fucks me until I fall apart. My entire body shakes as he slides out from underneath my dress. He stands tall and straightens out his suit. His eyes never leave mine as he licks his lips. I’ve never seen his face so intense.
“Gigi!” Aunt Celine yells.
“Have you seen a woman, burgundy dress?” Aunt Helena calls out.
I push at Antonio’s chest. “You need to go.”
“When can I see you again?” he asks, completely indifferent that there’s a damn search party coming for me.
“I leave for Italy in three days.”
He helps me down from the wall. “Where in Italy?”
“Gigi!”
I tense at Bruno’s voice, and as I clumsily attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in my dress, the realization of what we did hits me. My stomach sinks. I feel easy, cheap, like I fell into his trap, knowing his only interest is totouch me, fuck me, own me.
“I’m sure your sources can figure that out.”
“Your father keeps your whereabouts very sealed.” He runs his hand through his thick hair. “Trust me, it’s hard keeping track.”
“A prince always finds his princess.” I won’t make it so easy for him next time.
“This isn’t a fairy tale. There’s only one way this story will end. In tragedy.”
“A tragedy can be beautiful though.”
“A tragedy isn’t beautiful, princess. It’s death.”
“Am I worth death to you, Antonio Lombardi?”
“I’ll answer that when I know.”
8
Oh, Italy, how I love thee.
The destination for mouthwatering food, lovers, and decreased Marchetti security.
Yesterday, my father chartered a private jet for me. I spent the ten-hour flight binge-watching reality TV while Bruno slept. We arrived late, and I passed out as soon as I slipped into bed.
I regularly visit my aunt Aida, my mother’s half-sister in Tuscany.
Before my grandfather married my grandmother, he had a fling with a woman here and got her pregnant. Even though they never married and he returned to New York, he still provided for them. He also took frequent trips to visit Aida, and my mother would accompany him. After his death, she started taking me with her.
Aunt Aida lives in a charming cottage tucked away in the countryside, where she and her husband, Felice, manage an olive grove.
