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"Perdonami, bella."
"I'm okay," I promise, his mournful tone breaking my heart. Already, the sting is gone. I relax beneath him, retracting my nails from my palms. "I'm okay."
He begins to move carefully, rocking his hips into me in tiny pulses.
I gasp in stunned delight. It feels incredible.
"Are you okay, bella?"
"Yes. Perfect." I bring my other leg up to hook it over his hip.
He smiles, thrusting harder. Deeper. I pull against my restraints, desperate to get my hands on him as his run all over me. But he doesn't untie me. He just keeps going. Harder. And then deeper.
"Goddamn, bella." He leans back on his heels, wrapping his hand around my throat. "You're heaven around my cock. I could fuck you like this all day."
"Do it," I plead, losing myself in him and the pleasure growing in his eyes, turning them darker and then darker still. We're heat and steam, fire and flame, working together. Nothing outside of this bed and this moment exists or intrudes. I'm not an FBI agent. He's not mafia. We're just Diego and Athena, and that's enough.
"I'm going to remember this day for the rest of my life, bella," he murmurs. "I finally stepped out of hell today."
"Diego." Tears well in my eyes. That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.
He leans down to kiss me. I writhe with him, moaning louder and then louder again. I don't ever want it to end. And yet my body refuses to cooperate. Diego refuses to allow me to hold it off.
As soon as the orgasm sparks in my belly, he knows.
"Come on my cock, bella," he orders. "I want to feel it."
I want to tell him no. I want to fight him and defy him and remind him that he's not in control of me. But I don't. Yet I can't. Because he is. My body is under his command now.
"Give it to me," he says. "I've got you. You can take it."
I'm not so sure I can take it, but I give it to him anyway, helpless to do anything but submit. Waves break over me, dragging me under. Spots swim in my field of vision, blotting out everything. I'm just pain and pleasure and us, so lost to him, I know I'll never be free again.
My name leaves his lips in a powerful cry, his body locking up. I hear the reverence in his voice, the emotion. He lets me know with a single sound that he's never going to be free again either.
He fills me in a warm rush, giving me everything he has and everything he is. And as he does, he slips into place in my heart as if he was always meant to be there.
"Tell me something."
"More questions, bella?" Diego's brow lifts, an amused smile playing at his lips. "Perhaps I didn't do a good enough job wearing you out."
I roll my eyes, ignoring his teasing. He did a more-than-good-enough job wearing me out. But my mind isn't as easily exhausted as my body. It's still racing, trying to fit pieces into place and form a complete picture. Now that I have the information, what am I supposed to do with it?
He said everything changed for me as soon as he told me. I think he might be right. Not for any of the reasons he gave me, but simply because the villain is already gone here. Everything that happened last year can be laid squarely at the feet of a man who died for his crimes.
Even if he were to tell me who pulled the trigger, I'm not sure it would change my opinion any. We're supposed to uphold the law. But the law wasn't designed for men like these and situations like this. I'm not naïve enough to believe justice in the eyes of the law and true justice are the same thing. I know better.
Justice is a pay to play game, and men like Genovese can afford to pay to play. Even had we known what he planned, we couldn't have stopped it. Until there were bodies on the ground, our hands would have been tied. He would have swatted away anything less than a murder charge as if it didn't even exist. The outcome would have been exactly the same.
I don't know if Diego pulled the trigger or if someone else did, but whoever did it stopped a war. The law says that's wrong. How can it be when it saved lives while the law would have let them die before doing anything remotely helpful?
I wanted answers, and I have them now. But I don't know what I'm supposed to do with them when all they do is complicate everything and change nothing. I know what I'm supposed to do. I know what my job requires me to do. But my life stopped being black and white the minute I stepped into that parking garage a week ago.
