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“I promise, Samara. I will love you until the day I die, and then I’ll love you from Hell.”
I swallowed, letting the confession permeate through my walls for just a moment. A tear fell, thinking that I might have wasted so much time. “You aren't going to get sick of me and go have affairs?"
"Never," he snarled. "If that's what she told you, I'll kill her myself. Nobody else, Samara. I've never felt this right with anyone but you."
I nodded, dropping my head to his forehead as I looked down at him. A hesitant, disbelieving smile bloomed on my face when he treated me to the full force of his grin. "You're mine, woman. All fucking mine. You know that now?"
"Yes, Lino," I murmured. "I think I get it now."
"Good," he groaned, tugging me down to him for a devouring kiss that set my blood on fire. My hips ground against him, totally lost to the sensation and not caring one bit that we had an audience. The hand that swatted at my ass said Lino wasn't quite as lost in me, that he still had some kind of common sense to stop me from grinding on his dick with Georgio in the front seat.
His hands at my waist steadied me, and I rested my head in his neck, breathing him in as if I could take him into me. As if I could take the words he'd said and somehow make myself believe they were real permanently. As if he could heal the wounds Connor had left in his wake.
By the time we pulled into the driveway, my resolve had hardened. I wasn't the pathetic woman Connor had made me. Loving Lino didn't change who I was or who I could be, because I'd always loved him. He was a part of me, the best part of me.
As soon as the car pulled up in front of the house, Lino had me out of the car and in his arms. His phone rang as we hurried up the front steps to the door, and he tugged it out and answered it gruffly while he unlocked the door. "Busy, Matteo. Talk to you tomorrow."
All I heard was the sound of Matteo and Ivory's laughter on the other side of the line before Lino hung up and swung the front door open. We didn't bother to head for the stairs, didn't even pretend like we would make it to the bed for what we had in mind. He peeled off his wet clothes as he walked, and I closed the door behind me. My jacket pooled on the floor when I stripped it off, stepping out of my heels simultaneously. By the time I'd made it out of the entryway, Lino stood naked and waiting for me. After I unzipped my skirt, I shoved it down my hips along with my underwear. Lino drew me into his arms to guide me where he wanted me, his hands grabbing the fabric of my shirt and pulling it apart harshly so that the sound of the fabric tearing filled the air. Only a too brief kiss landed on my lips before he spun me around and bent me over the counter. His nimble fingers divested me of my bra, and it fell down my arms until I shucked it off.
The hand that slapped against the globe of my ass shouldn't have come as a surprise, given what I'd put him through. But as the pain of Mia Romano's accusations and lies faded, I couldn't help but love Lino more for all the trouble he'd gone to. All I'd done was be out of his sight for a few hours, and he'd been mad with worry.
I tried to remember the last time someone had worried for me that way and came up empty.
There was only Lino. Always only Lino.
"You ever do that again, and I'll put a tracker in your ass," he hissed, slapping my ass again even as he reached a hand around to stroke my center. His movement was impatient, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to punish me for running or pleasure me for finally letting him in. I knew the feeling.
"You'll do no such thing!" I gasped, tossing my head back when he shoved inside me with one brutal thrust. He buried a hand in my hair, tugging me back until my hands supported me on the counter and his breath rasped against my ear.
"Ask Ivory if she would ever take hers out now, Samara. It saved her life."
"Shut up and fuck me," I grunted, wincing when the hold on my hair tightened and his hand came down on my ass again. It changed to a moan when his hips shifted to stroke over that perfect spot inside me, my orgasm building quickly under the force of his strokes and the fingers that worked my clit in a delicious roll of tight pressure.
I panted as I strove for it, and then I whimpered when he pulled out of me so suddenly that everything that had built just faded into the wind. "Lino!"
"On the counter, Little Dove," he murmured, and the harsh edges of his anger had faded to leave only the gentle man who loved me. I turned, letting him help me up so that he could slide inside me. "I need to see your eyes when you come." The height of the counter put us almost eye to eye, the tip of his nose rubbing against mine with every stroke of him inside me.
He was so hard, filling me so perfectly that it felt like there was nothing left. Like our bodies fused together and became one. He didn't kiss me except for brief touches of his lips to my lips, my face, my nose. Mostly he held my eyes and breathed the same air as me, and somehow it felt even more intimate for it. When he tugged me forward, I thought I'd fall off the counter. But he held me there, supported my weight with his body and his hands and rocked my hips to take him even deeper. "Fuck," he groaned.
"Oh God," I moaned, tossing my head back, but his hand buried in my hair, tugging my face back to his so that he could touch his forehead to mine. His eyes blazed with heat, but the undeniable presence of love in them was what sent me spiraling over the edge into my orgasm. Holding his eyes, when he roared out my name and followed me over the edge was the most intimate moment of my life.
A moment I knew I'd remember for the rest of it.
And as I caught my breath, I murmured, "I love you."
"I love you too, Little Dove," he whispered back, lifting me into his arms to carry me to bed.
I didn't remember getting there, didn't remember anything but how good Lino smelled as he carted me up the stairs.
Then I was out.
Forty-One
Samara
I woke to the feeling of warmth in bed behind me. I didn't bother to open my eyes, snuggling back into Lino's broad chest and enjoying the groan he gave me in response. "Good morning, Little Dove," he murmured, his voice sleepy. I almost regretted waking him up, however unintentionally it had been. I wanted nothing more than for him to get some rest after what I'd put him through so stupidly the day before.
I couldn't imagine the kind of fear he must have felt if he really loved me, and I'd convinced myself that it was okay to believe him. That Lino wasn't some stranger who owed me nothing and wouldn't think twice about hurting me. Lino had never wanted to see me hurt, even if I'd been too emotional to see that when the blind panic had taken over and sent me running.
