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Maisie’s eyes widened but she didn’t move away, didn’t drop his hands. She waited.
Everything felt suspended in that moment, taut with expectancy and even hope, something he hadn’t felt in far too long.
‘Maisie,’ Antonio said, and it was both question and answer. Her lips parted but no sound came out, and then Antonio leaned forward and kissed her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE BRUSH OF Antonio’s lips across hers felt like coming home. Maisie knew she wasn’t the first person to think such a thing, but it was true. So true, in this moment when all her doubts and uncertainties were swept away by the honesty of Antonio’s pain and the promise of his kiss.
He brought his hands up to cradle her face, the touch so tender it made Maisie ache, as they kissed and kissed, a communication of their souls. This felt so much deeper and more intimate than when they’d come together before, so much more profound, and yet it was only a kiss. Except it wasn’t just a kiss; it was life-giving and receiving, on and on.
Eventually Antonio tore his mouth from hers, his hand still framing her face as he looked into her eyes. ‘Maisie...’
‘I want this, Antonio.’ She pressed her hand to his cheek, feeling utterly sure. ‘I want this so much.’
He didn’t need to be told twice. He rose from the sofa and, taking her by the hand, led her upstairs. The house was dark and quiet all around them, everything hushed and expectant. In her bedroom, Antonio dropped her hand and Maisie turned to him, waiting, ready and sure.
Antonio drew her to him and kissed her softly, tenderly. Maisie closed her eyes. Everything about this felt different from before, when things between them had been urgent, desperate, and more than a little sad.
Now, amidst the burgeoning passion and need, Maisie felt an unfurling of hope, of happiness, and she thought Antonio felt it too. Surely he couldn’t kiss her this way, so reverently, if he didn’t.
He was kissing her with such tenderness and sweet passion that Maisie’s heart flipped over and melted, everything in her straining and yearning as she pressed her body against his and offered him everything.
Clothes slipped off seemingly by themselves; a whisper of cloth, the snick of a button or zip. Antonio’s body was beautiful, burnished by moonlight, the lambent light catching his perfectly sculpted muscles.
He pulled back the duvet and then reached for her hand; they lay down in a splayed tangle of limbs, hands and mouths seeking each other as the rest of the world dropped away.
Maisie arched and writhed under Antonio’s knowing yet tender touch, marvelling at how well he knew her, how he discovered her secret places and brought her to glittering precipices of pleasure over and over again until she finally fell among the shards, crying out as her body convulsed under his.
He rolled on top of her, reaching for a condom from the pocket of his trousers as Maisie gave a throaty laugh.
‘You came prepared.’
‘It never hurts.’
Seconds later he sank inside her, and Maisie closed her eyes as he filled her right up, and they began to move in exquisite, joined rhythm, climbing towards those dazzling heights yet again.
Afterwards, Antonio wrapped his arms around her as he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She felt cocooned by his embrace, safe and protected in a way she couldn’t remember feeling for such a long time. She wasn’t in charge. She didn’t need to cling to her control. She could just be held.
Neither of them spoke, but then Maisie didn’t think they needed to say anything. At some point she fell into a sated doze, only to startle awake when she heard Ella’s
plaintive cry.
‘I’ll get her,’ Antonio murmured in her ear, and carefully he disentangled himself from her. Still sleepy, Maisie curled up in the warm space left in the bed as Antonio pulled on his boxers and went in search of their daughter.
She dozed again, only to wake at the low, thrumming sound of Antonio singing. Holding her breath, Maisie listened for a few moments before she grabbed her dressing gown and belted it around her waist, then tiptoed down the corridor to Ella’s room.
Antonio held his daughter in one powerful arm, rocking her gently as he sang a lullaby in Italian, his baritone caressing the musical syllables. Ella blinked up at him, transfixed, and Maisie’s heart swelled with both love and gratitude. She wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. She just wished she could hold on to it.
Antonio swayed slightly as he sang, and Maisie watched as Ella’s eyelids began to droop. Another few moments and then her daughter was asleep, and Antonio laid her gently in the cot.
He caught Maisie’s eye as he straightened, and smiled. Maisie smiled back, feeling yet another welling-up of love and thankfulness, almost painful in its intensity. It was scary to feel this much. To want this much.
Because in that moment she wanted Antonio. Not just as a lover or a friend, but as a partner. A soulmate. The realisation jolted her, a bolt of terror lancing right through her, and the smile dropped from her face.
Antonio frowned, catching the change in mood, and in silence they walked back to her bedroom.
‘Thank you,’ Maisie began haltingly. ‘For...for rocking her to sleep.’
