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My body was sweaty with pleasure, my heart raw as I watched him strip off his jeans.
The mammoth erection jutted out. But the vicious pulse of renewed arousal faded as I noticed the terrible scarring on his left leg, the misshapen thigh, the torn flesh over his knee a testament to how much he had suffered. And how far he had come.
I lay on the bed unable to move or speak, the emotion choking me, as he pulled a foil pack out of his jeans pocket, and sheathed himself with clumsy fingers.
He glanced up to find me watching him. His eyes darkened, his gaze becoming hooded, as he climbed onto the bed. ‘Don’t look at that,’ he said, his tone as raw as I felt.
My gaze glided over the other scars—the faded crudely drawn tattoos I remembered from that night—before it met his.
How could one man have endured so much pain? I wondered, the agonising emotion threatening to choke me, my eyes stinging.
His sensual lips quirked, but the smile was guarded. ‘No pity,Principessa,’ he murmured, and I remembered his mind-reading abilities from long ago too. ‘I do not need it.’
It was not pity I felt, though, it was sadness, for the harsh life he must have led.
But before I could get the words out, he cradled my hips, and tugged me under him.
‘This is all I want,’ he insisted. Then he surged deep in one powerful thrust.
I groaned, the shattering fullness almost more than I could bear. But the ache in my chest was forgotten as I grabbed his shoulders, anchoring myself for his brutal possession as the pleasure charged back along my nerve endings.
He found a relentless rhythm—drawing out, pushing back—forcing me to take more of that hard length with each thrust, until I was impaled completely. But the pleasure never stopped building in fierce furious increments, taking me closer and closer to that tantalising, tormenting peak.
His groans matched my sobs, but then he shifted to glide his thumb over the tender nub.
The perfect touch triggered a tumultuous release, my sex massaging him as I soared over at last—and felt him fall into the abyss behind me.
But as I lay, sweaty and sated, and a little shaky from the force of my climax, the pain in my chest came charging back.
I slid my hands off his shoulders, and banded my arms around his big body, and I allowed myself the luxury of holding him as we both tumbled into sleep.
Renzo
‘You have to hide, Ren, don’t make a sound, no matter what happens... You must be a brave boy, then you must run.’
My mamma’s terrified voice cuts through the darkness in rapid Italian. My heart is beating so loud, I’m scared the angry shouting voices will hear me. Clammy sweat sticks my torn T-shirt to my skin. The bed creaks above me, pushing down on my back, trapping me in the sweltering shadows. Heavy thuds, ugly grunts, muffled pops ricochet through my body. I can’t move, I mustn’t cry. Silent tears scald my cheeks making the skin burn—I taste metal in my mouth as I bite back the whimpers.
Then the burning pain in my lungs spreads to my leg, my heart beats faster, the heavy thuds turning to the clank and clatter of rending metal, and the medics shouting in French. But I can still hear my mamma’s frantic whispers. And I am that boy again, trapped and gagging in a dark hole of his own terror.
I jerked away, the agonising cries for help caught in my throat, as I was torn from the cruel dream and wrenched into reality.
Where am I?
Terror blindsided me. And I was too scared to move, still trapped under that bed—or was it the wreckage of my car?—my leg on fire, the darkness closing in around me.
I panted, struggling to draw breath, my body rigid, my mind dazed, my throat aching, my leg cramping... Then I caught the scent of roses, and the pain in my lungs eased.
‘Renzo? What’s wrong?’
Her voice was groggy with sleep, but thick with concern. Soft fingertips grazed my scarred cheek as her face appeared over mine in the moonlight. I leant into her palm, the rush of gratitude horrifying in its intensity as I was dragged the rest of the way out of the nightmare.
Fresh, salty air rippled over my skin and I wrapped my arms around her to pull her down, and roll her under me, so I could sink my face into her hair, gulp in a lungful of that clean, delicate scent. Tears stung my eyes... Tears of pain and loss and the bone-deep terror from my nightmares.
I found her mouth with mine and kissed her, fervent, desperate. She kissed me back with the same urgency. I caressed her sweet flesh, frantic and distraught, touching and teasing and tormenting all the places I knew would make her want me. At last, I delved between her thighs, the clamouring terror retreating further when I found the slick heat of her desire.
‘I need to be inside you,’ I stammered, hating the desperation in my voice, but not able to disguise it.
She nodded, and I angled her hips to plunge deep. She was tight, so tight, but she accepted me, clinging to me as I clung to her. The frantic passion built quickly, careering through me. I grunted, thrusting hard, pitifully grateful when I felt the spasm of her release. I yanked out just in time as my climax flooded my body and my seed spilled onto her belly.
