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“I’ll get it back.”
Four simple words that make the anxiety recede inside my chest. Four short words that have the power to make me feel closer to someone than I’ve ever felt.
In his own way, it’s a declaration of his feelings, too. Only he would make such a promise. Only he would destroy the city to keep it.
Salvatore said he doesn’t have the range for relationships, but he couldn’t be more wrong. The man he is with me cares more than anyone else in the world—with everything he has.
But that revelation is far too puzzling and terrifying, so I bury it deep. We haven’t even figured out what we’re doing. Who and what we are to each other.
It’s been easier to let our bodies speak. So I do.
I grab the front of his shirt and lift myself to my tallest possible height. Salvatore takes mercy on me and bends his head. Our lips come together in a kiss that blossoms with passion and need. He hoists me up by the ass, his large palms squeezing me, laying claim. We only kiss harder, losing our breath. Not once do we break away as he moves us through his loft.
My legs are at rest around his waist. My hands clutch his face. My core begins throbbing in unabashed greed.
When we cross the threshold into the bedroom, Salvatore sets me down and dedicates his efforts to undressing me as fast as possible. He can’t resist sprinkling in affection. A neck bite here and a tweak of my breast there. He spins me around and smacks my ass. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and I moan feeling his lips on my skin.
Just the spot he knows makes me instantly wet.
Salt and Pepa sit nosily in the doorway. I almost ask them to look away—they don’t need to see the X-rated things about to happen to their mom.
Salvatore shucks my dress pants past my curvy hips and thighs and walks me forward to the bed. I’m pushed down and contorted into position with my ass up and my face down. His knee forces my legs apart and his hand fondles my pussy through my panties. A second later, he tears them away. The sound is so sudden and jarring, I lose concept of place and time.
His rough palms scratch my skin as he rolls up my pencil skirt and snatches away my underwear. I try to open my mouth for a scream, but blood sputters out.
I cough and spit and attempt to crawl away, but he presses his knee into me. He holds me down on the wet ground and the gravel bites into me. I flinch at the sound of hawked spit and then feel its sliminess coat my sex. He jams himself inside not more than a few seconds later, taking the last air left in my lungs...
The panic crashes over me like a powerful tsunami. My chest tightens and cold sweat slicks itself onto my skin.
“Stop... STOP!” I scream, jerking and flailing under Salvatore. My fight to free myself is desperate enough that I almost roll off the bed when he gets up.
He catches me by the wrists, his hands clenching around them. “Phi... it’s okay. I stopped. Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”
But I’m not convinced. The panic pounds in my heart and I blink as the memory lingers before my eyes.
So real. So visceral.
I don’t realize I’m shaking until Salvatore lets go of my wrists. He doesn’t seem to know how to react. We’re both half naked, his erection a bulge in his jeans. Neither of us speak for a moment that feels agonizingly long.
As my panic subsides and I orient myself, my cold sweaty skin flushes to a warmer temperature—humiliationtakes over. I ruined a moment because I let the past bleed into the present. I panicked as if Salvatore was hurting me when he was only worshipping me and my body.
I cover my face with my hands and urge myself to breathe.
I’m never going to get better.
19. salvatore
I snatchher clothes off the floor and hand them over. “Here, get dressed. I’ll leave the room, alright?”
“It’s not you.”
“I know.”
Her eyes are glassy, anxiety alive on her face. Reluctantly, she takes the clothes I’m handing her, her shoulders stiff and tense.
The woman before me isn’t the one that was here just seconds ago. The sexy, passionate Delphine who’d moaned and shivered under my touch is gone. Replacing her is someone gripped by fear and trauma. A shell of who she really is.
I try to keep the rage from bleeding into my expression. It’s not because of Delphine; it’s because of the situation and the reason behind it.
