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“I hated that I felt that way but never wanted it to go away.”
God, what this girl did to me was like an electrical shot right to my chest.
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you.” I leaned in, my mouth close to hers. “I’ve been watching you from the moment you moved into that apartment. Watched you while you worked and made sure you got home okay.”
Something flickered in her eyes, and I slowly grinned. “I made sure that motherfucker who touched you got his hand broken.”
She shifted in the tub, the water sloshing as she became alert.
“I didn’t kill him, even though I really fucking wanted to.” I leaned in and gripped her chin, pressing my mouth to hers as I kissed her hard. “But I made sure I hurt him. Real fucking bad,Amore. I made that asshole cry for his daddy. I won’t make the mistake again of letting you go.” I pressed my mouth to hers and bit her lip, causing her to gasp and pull back.
But with my hand now tightly around her nape, I kept her close to my face. “Say you’re mine.” I felt violent with my emotions. She was quiet too long, so I said it harder. “Say you’re fucking mine, Liliana.”
She sat up, facing me fully and took on a hard look. It was cute and comical how stern she appeared. “I planned on running off and living in the middle of the woods. Being alone for the rest of my life seemed like a suitable alternative than missing you like crazy and wishing I was with you.”
I let out a low growl, one that was from all the built-up possessiveness for my girl. I was about to demand she tell me she was mine when she cupped my cheeks, silencing me with the gentleness.
She looked me in the eyes and said in the sweetest fucking voice, “I’m yours, andyou’remine. Don’t forget it.”
I grinned, feeling like a ton of fucking bricks had just been lifted off my chest. I pulled her out of the tub—not giving a shit that she was soaking wet and my clothes were drenched. They’d be coming off anyway.
I took her to bed where I fucked my pretty girl three times and called her my whore before I let her go to sleep.
Epilogue
Matteo
One year later
Ididn’t think I could have been more obsessed—or fallen harder in love—with Liliana, but here I was a year later and staring at my soon-to-be wife.
She may not know that we were getting married, but she would be putty in my hands once I gave her a few orgasms.
The ring box felt heavy in my pocket, and my heart was beating fast—something I wasn’t used to. I was always so calm. So collected.
I had the private jet on standby to take us to Italy, where we’d get married in the village my family was from. I had her dress picked out—the same one I saw her eyeing months ago when we passed by a shop.
I had her bags packed, her passport, and anything she would need or want already on the plane.
This would be an intimate gathering. Just her and I, a few of my closest confidants as witnesses, and an officiant to oversee it all. We’d stand amongst the grapevines overlooking the vineyard in a small Italian village.
I’d stare into her eyes and tell her she was mine, that I’d never loved anything or anyone, but that she held my heart in her hands.
I was weak because of her, and loving my girl meant she’d be in danger from my enemies. But I’d protect her with my life. I’d kill myself to make sure she was safe.
And if she wanted the biggest fucking wedding after this, if she wanted to have all of Desolation, hell, all of New York in attendance, I’d give it to her.
She could have anything—everything—she could ever want.
Fuck, I wanted to whisk her away right now, but I was hard, and flying with a massive erection wasn’t happening. So here we were, in our bedroom with my girl looking at me with wide eyes and a parted mouth after I told her to strip because I was about to fuck her brains out.
“Get on your knees for me, Liliana. I want your mouth on my cock.”
And my beautiful girl did just that.
* * *
Liliana
