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8
Portofino, 2000
Roman pulled me into a fierce kiss and my need for him spread through my body like a disease. His mouth had a faint taste of whiskey, but mostly I could sense his vital force. It was true what they said, that finding your lover’s arms was like coming home. I was home. My defenses fell drifting like feathers in the wind, lost under the turmoil of everything I was feeling for this man. Roman Stefani.
I clutched at him, anchoring myself to his body and he did the same, almost like he was afraid I might run away again. Roman had all the reason to fear. We’d lost our chance at a happy-ever-after a long time ago and he’d had to make peace with that.
After breaking the kiss, he took my face in his hands and just looked at me.
“Hello, brown eyes.” I smiled, remembering the first time we’d met. He was so damn stubborn – and cocky – back then. We didn’t even know each other’s names and he’d decided our fate. I called him brown eyes because I was drawn to them from the first moment. I loved the way they were so cool, but when he looked at me, a mellow glow emanated from them. What woman could resist that?
“Hello, amore. I missed you.”
“Roman,” I sighed. I wanted to avoid the emotional talk. We weren’t making amends. This was just a night to seal our goodbye. “Take me to your bed.”
“My bed is back in New York, but we can make good use of the one we have here.”
I kissed him again and when he started exploring my mouth with slow and sensual moves, I took over and bit his lip. He was giving me love and feelings I was scared to even think about.
My fervor sparked his and soon we were devouring each other, trying so hard to feel more in a gesture as little as a kiss. We did it a million times, every night before bed, every morning over a cup of coffee, but now it was absolute.
Roman pulled back to throw his shirt over his head.
“About time you came to your senses, Salva. There is nothing like us, amore. It doesn’t matter if you look all over the world for it. I am your finish line.” He had no idea how true his words were.
“Roman, no more talking.” I couldn’t endure listening to him now. My mind and body were overwhelmed with just his presence; there was no need for words.
Obeying my will, Roman picked me up in his arms like I weighed the same as Remy and started walking with me in his arms. I couldn’t see where we were walking because he started sucking on my neck and the sensation flowing through my body was so intense, my vision got blurry. Roman was always an expert on fucking and my body never forgot. Every cell recognized him.
We walked through a door into a bedroom that was submerged in sensual darkness, lit only by a couple of big candles burning on the fireplace, and the air sweet from the orange trees that had blossomed outside the window. I could see the shape of the furniture and the shine of the silky bed covers, but nothing more and I was grateful for the intimacy the night offered.
Before I got to enjoy his lips on my body as much as I wanted, we were falling down and landing on the bed.
“I want you naked, Salvatrice.”
There was no need for him to ask twice. I took advantage of the fact that I was hidden in the shadows and began to eagerly remove my clothes. Roman was doing the same in front of me and I got to admire his elegant and strong body. I licked my lips as he revealed himself to me; my heart ached for everything I'd denied us, and how little time I had left, but I pushed those thoughts away. I refused to think about the bleakness of the future.Me, Roman, and the burning desire that bound us was all that mattered.
Almost like I was in a trance, I reached for him and touched his body. I’d always admired his chiseled figure, the hardness of his body and exact angles that were so pleasing to the eye. Roman Stefani was beautiful; there was never a doubt about that – the whole world could see it, but for me he was heavenly.
“I missed touching you.” Every day. I hated him and loved him with such intensity, it broke me in half. Romina was my only saving grace.
“I didn’t.” I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows and he addressed my surprise. “Miss is too weak of a word, Salvatrice. When you left me, you took my fucking soul with you, so no, I didn’t miss you. I was a dead man walking.” His words shot straight to my heart and a new crack appeared.
He pushed me back down on the bed, cuffing my wrists with his hands and positioning between my legs. I wrapped my legs around his and squeezed him closer. We were both so desperate, so hungry, so incomplete.
It was so hard to hold off my tears and not bow to the pain. We were supposed to die together, holding hands, married. I’d had his ring on my finger and he had my heart in his pocket, but life crushed us. He’d lied to me and I’d run. We were ruined and now we just didn’t have any time left. All that was left was this night and I was keen on enjoying every second.
“Roman, please, take me.” I had no patience for foreplay or any other delays. I needed him so bad, I was in pain.
“Look at me first.” I opened my eyes and found his face only inches away. “There they are. Your beautiful green eyes. They’ve haunted me every single minute since you left, amore. I want to look into them when I take you back.”
I held his gaze, feeling the air grow heavy around us while he pushed himself inside me in one strong, fast thrust. I sucked in a breath, and saw stars. It was like the first time we’d made love, like something inside us fused together and I submerged myself in the feeling of wholeness.
“Roman.”
“Salvatrice, fuck! Tell me I’m not dreaming again. I need to hear it.”
Tears finally escaped, stinging the corners of my eyes.
