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I left Edward to deal with Dennis and the journalist and carried Gio out of the restroom. Turns out, he was here in the same restaurant for a meeting and spotted first, Dennis, then me. He saw me leave the table in a hurry and decided to follow me out. He also alerted the security team.
The restaurant staff directed me to this space, and not a second too late. If I’d stayed, I was liable to kill her bastard of an ex with my bare hands, and I promise, that’s not a euphemism. Gio was right, I killed men when I was on the front line, and sure, that’s because it was my duty to do so, but it lowered the barrier in my mind to taking a life. And his, I gladly would—he touched her, threatened her, and made her tremble so much that when I hauled her up in my arms and walked out, she didn’t try to push me away. And that bothered me. It’s not like Gio to be this passive. I’d rather she be her usual, sassy self, and the fact that she isn’t is testament to how disturbed she is. "Gio?" I cup her cheek.
She shudders, then seems to come out of wherever she’d gone to in her head.
"I’m fine," she says in a listless voice.
"You’re not fine." I reach for the pitcher of water the staff left us, fill a glass, and offer it to her. She takes it without comment, takes a sip, then begins to put it aside.
"Drink some more."
She obediently raises the bottle to her lips and takes a few sips, and that only makes me more anxious. I take the glass from her, set it aside, then bring her closer. "Tell me what you’re thinking."
"Nothing."
"It’s something."
She swallows. "How could I have misjudged him like that? I thought I was in love with him. I thought he loved me. I was so wrong."
"It’s his fault. He’s the one who couldn’t be loyal to you."
"He didn’t want to sleep with me. He wanted to wait until we were married, and I thought that was a sweet, loving gesture. Little did I know it was because he was fetishizing it and wanted to sleep with other women, and—"
"Stop." I place my palm over her mouth. "I will not let you do this to yourself."
Her gaze widens; she looks at me over the top of my hand.
"You’re a gorgeous, beautiful, smart, ambitious woman who’s going to be my wife, and I will not let you beat yourself up over some man who had no idea how lucky he was for you to even be in his proximity."
Tears gleam in her eyes.
I shake my head. "No, don’t. He doesn’t deserve you to cry for him."
When a drop squeezes out of the corner of her eye, I bend and lick it up. I move my palm down to her throat and curl my fingers around the slim column. When I press down, her breath catches. Her pulse rate speeds up. I whisper tiny kisses down her cheek until I reach her mouth. I hover my lips over hers and stare into her golden eyes. There’s a plea in them, a silent ask. One I know I want to give her… Just not yet. "You’ve been through an emotional encounter; you need to recuperate."
"I need"—she clears her throat—"you to fuck me right now."
"Not when you’re vulnerable."
"Now, when I’m vulnerable. So I can feel you inside me, and on me, and all around me. So I can use you to wipe out the feel of his hands on me, the sliminess of his touch, the heat from his body that made me sick to my stomach. I need it now, so I can imprint you in all of my senses. So I can purge every last memory of him from my mind, my body, every part of me that only you have the right to."
My heart smashes into my ribcage, and my blood pulses at my temples. I lean back into the chair, taking her with me, and when I lift her by her waist, she throws her leg over my lap and straddles me. "Please, Rick. Please." She peers between my eyes. "I’m begging you to fuck me."
"I cannot… will not fuck you," I murmur.
Her features crumple.
"But I will make love to you."
49
Gio
Make love to me? Did he say make love to me?I’m almost not surprised because, somewhere along the way, I became sure he’d developed feelings for me like I’d done for him. Only right now, I don’t want the tender side of Rick. I want the part of him that is Stone—immovable, mean, smashing everything that comes in his path to smithereens. Throwing me down on all fours and mounting me from behind without mercy. I want the Stone who was my first, who smacked my butt and made me come, who took his pleasure from me and denied me my orgasm until he was ready. I want that Stone—the one who filled my body with his and pushed all the thoughts from my mind. Especially the thought of how I’d trusted someone who’d not only cheated on me but also would have raped me if Rick hadn’t been there at the right time. Oh my god, my horrible ex could have marred me in a way I might not have recovered from.
"Look at me," Rick snaps.
I blink, then focus my gaze on his, and his aquamarine blue eyes capture mine. The silver sparks in them and I’m drawn in.
