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But I never stopped being his. I’m always going to be. One way or another. Giancarlo could never change that.
Gio’s right when he says death can’t keep us apart. All it can do is delay us for a while. We may have lost a month together, but moments like these make up for it. When we’re one, bodies in sync, hearts beating on the same pulse of desire.
I dig fingers into his chocolatey strands and pull his mouth to mine. If I don’t kiss him, if I don’t distract myself from the deliciously filling feel of his cock, I’ll burst into tears. Happy, euphoric tears that he’s here in the flesh.
That he makes me feelsooogood.
My body percolates with pleasure. Every one of my senses are filled with him. The strong masculine grunts he gives when he thrusts deep and pries me open. The sweat slicks off his muscles and slips under my fingertips as I fondle them. Even his scent invades my nostrils, rich leather, warm cognac, and pure masculine heat.
Gio rolls me onto my side and wraps me up between his arms and legs. His cock pushes into me from behind. He slides right in, piercing me at a new angle. I tense up as more prickling pleasure consumes me. He slips so deep, and my pussy hugs his cock so tight, we moan at the perfect fit.
We fall into an urgent rhythm. Our bodies jut together. Fast and hard. Back and forth. In and out. Then in again, deep and hard. The headboard creaks louder, one hard stroke away from breaking. It bounces off the wall as we fuck like wild animals.
We come like them too. From this new angle, Gio goes deeper. His dick taps against my G-spot. I freeze up as my orgasm hits, and I can do nothing but surrender to the tremors taking over my body. Gio meets me in orgasmic heaven a second later.
He tightens his arms around my chest as he empties himself, buried inside me. His hot cum fills me up. I can’t help but close my eyes and moan. His cum feels like a reward after so long without him.
He kisses the back of my ear and then continues peppering more kisses along the nape of my neck.
“I love you.”
I smile mumbling the words in return. My heart is overflowing with light for the first time in weeks. It’s almost impossible to process this level of happiness; it’s almost too good to be true after I’d thought I’d never see him again.
We doze off, too spent to move, any troubles a world away.
We collapsed so suddenly into sleep, we haven’t moved in hours. Instead, with only the light from the bedside table to fight off the room’s shadows, we fill each other in on the last few weeks.
“The explosion came out of nowhere. None of us saw it coming,” Gio says, his voice thick with sleep. He plays with my curls, looping his fingers in their ringlets. It’s become a habit of his whenever we’re like this, half awake under the sheets. “The blast was too powerful. We didn’t stand a chance. Next thing I know, I’m spinning in a tornado of fire.”
I gasp despite myself, despite knowing he’s here now in the flesh. Just listening to the details are triggering, though. Enough to evoke the emotions of that day all over again. I shift my body even closer to his, seeking solace from it. The physical reminder he’s fine. He’salive.
“There was nothing I could do. For once, I was completely powerless,” he says, his expression contemplative and grave. “Just smacking into the water was like crashing into sharp glass. I could feel my ribs break. I tried swimming, fought like hell against the current, but it was too strong. It overtook me.”
“I wanted to get to you. I’ll never forget the burning wreckage on the water. I didn’t want to believe you were a part of it.”
His fingers leave my curls, trailing the arc of my neck. He stares at a spot long enough I question if I’m bruised, but his eyes develop a faraway look. It’s as if he’s in his head, returning to the day of.
“I don’t know how long it was before I woke up. It could’ve been hours, days…”
“Who found you?”
“A fisherman and his wife. She was a nurse. I owe them both my life. If it wasn’t for them, I would’ve drowned. I would’ve succumbed to my injuries,” he explains. He runs his thumb along the hollow of my throat, the motion soft and comforting. I start to wonder if he’s questioning my realness as much as I am his.
“What are their names? I want to meet them. I want to personally thank them for what they’ve done.”
The corner of his lip quirks, hinting at a smile. “I paid them for their compassion. They’ll never have to work another day. I showed them your photo too.”
“You did?”
“My phone survived. The screen was cracked and the touch feature was shit, but it still worked.”
“How long did it take for you to heal?”
“Weeks. I only just left Santa Margherita a few days ago. I had a concussion and several broken ribs. There were burns as well. Some healed. Some…not so healed.”
My gaze drops to his torso. Gio’s physique is unmatched, his body broad but trim and sculpted. Earlier in the heat of our reunion, I hadn’t paid mind to the burn marks. I had been so relieved to kiss and touch him again, I hadn’t noticed the off-color scarring along his ribcage and side. The mark ups that even stretch around to his back and down to his hip.
I reach out to touch him, my curious hand gliding over the marred flesh. He lays still and watches me. Only his chest rises and falls under my fingers, his breaths calm and slow. I trace the network of pinkish vines decorating his body, as in love with his scarred skin as I was with his unblemished skin.
