CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Eleonora
My legs have turned to jelly. My whole body feels boneless, like I’ve melted into nothing but heat and sensation.
I’m breathing so hard I can barely catch my breath, I turn around and cling to Nico for support as my knees threaten to give out.
He holds me up effortlessly, one strong arm wrapped around my waist, the other stroking my back as he whispers against my ear.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, voice low and warm. “So beautiful when you come for me. My good girl.”
His words sink into me, soft and possessive, making my heart flutter even as my body trembles. I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent, letting him ground me.
When my breathing finally steadies, he bends down and lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, holding on as he carries me out of the gym and down the hallway toward our bedroom.
I can already feel him getting hard again, his cock pressing insistently against my core with every step. A soft laugh escapes me.
“Again?” I tease.
He chuckles against my hair. “You do that to me, baby. Can’t help it.”
We reach the bedroom and he lays me down gently on the bed, covering my body with his. This time, there’s no rush.
He kisses me slowly, deeply, like he has all the time in the world. His hands roam over my body with reverence, caressing my breasts, my waist, my thighs, as he slides into me with one smooth, careful thrust.
I gasp softly at the stretch, still sensitive from before, but it feels so good. He moves inside me with slow, deep rolls of his hips, kissing me the entire time.
His mouth trails from my lips to my jaw, my neck, my collarbone, whispering between kisses, while saying sweet nothing in Italian and English, burying himself deep and groaning my name as he spills inside me.
We stay like that for a moment, breathing together. Then he rolls us so I’m lying on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around me. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, occasionally threading through my hair as he presses soft kisses to my forehead.
I lie there, listening to his heartbeat, feeling warm and safe and completely overwhelmed.
After a while, a thought surfaces. I lift my head slightly.
“We’ve never used protection,” I whisper.
He keeps stroking my back. “I’m clean. You don’t need to worry. You’re the only woman I’ve ever been with without it. I can show you my medical records from a few months ago if you want.”
I nod, relieved, but that’s not my only concern. “That’s good… but I’m not on the pill. I’m not on anything. I could get pregnant.”
He goes still for a second. When I look up, his face has lit up, eyes brighter, a small, almost hopeful smile tugging at his lips.
“Are you?”
I blink. “I’m not pregnant,” I clarify quickly. “I’m just saying… I might, if we keep doing this.”
The smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it deepens. And I realize he might want that.
“Well, if you are pregnant,” he says calmly, “it doesn’t change anything.”
That surprises me even more. My heart stutters in my chest.
He sits up, pulling me with him so I’m straddling his lap once again. He leans back against the headboard, one hand resting on my waist, the other brushing my hair behind my ear.
“You’re mine anyway,” he continues. “Pregnancy would just be the icing on the cake.”
My breath catches. My mind is spinning so fast I can barely keep up.Mine.He says it so easily, like it’s simple. Like it’s already decided. But what does that even mean? Is he saying he wants me to stay? Permanently? Or is this still just part of the game, another way to control the situation with my father?
