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He lets me lead him to the bathroom where we both finish undressing. Once the water is warm, we step inside, and he ducks his head under the spray. The water running off his body is tinted with blood.
“Are you hurt?”
He shakes his head. I look him over, trying to see if he’s telling me the truth. It doesn’t take long to find the source of the blood. His knuckles are busted on both hands.
I lift one, brushing my lips against the bloodied skin.
“Isa, don’t?—”
“Shh,” I whisper. “Let me take care of you.”
Reaching around him, I lift his body wash and squirt some soap onto his loofah. Once it’s lathered, I gently wash his body. His eyes close and he leans into my touch.
“Tilt your head,” I whisper.
He does and I lather his hair, washing and rinsing it. When he’s clean, I reach for the water knob, but he stops me by wrapping his arms around me, holding me as close to his body as he can.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”
Water pours over us, but I think I see a tear running down his cheek. Before I can ask, he tilts my face, capturing my mouth in a desperate kiss. There are so many emotions coming from him that it makes my heart pound erratically. He pulls back, spinning me so I’m facing the tiled wall.
“Spread your legs, Isa. I need to be inside you, or I’ll die.”
I widen my stance and feel his cock brush against my opening. I’m wet, so he slides right in when he thrusts. My breasts press against the tile, but I don’t mind. Not when I know he needs this and not when he makes me feel so good. His grunts fill the air as he chases his release. When he reaches around and rubs my clit, I shatter. He’s right behind me and presses his face against the back of my head as he comes.
Looking over my shoulder, I say, “Let’s go to bed, Alessandro.”
He nods and turns off the water. I should probably shower, but my priority is taking care of him. I’ve never seen him like this. I step out of the shower first, reaching for a towel. I hand him his when he steps out. We’re silent as we dry off. When I pin up my hair, he kisses my shoulder and then carries me into the bedroom, placing me on the mattress. He slides next to me, pulling a blanket over both of us.
I turn to face him. “Do you want to talk about it or sleep?”
“Sleep.”
“Promise me you won’t run off in the morning. Not until we talk.”
“I promise.”
“Okay.” I rub his arm. “Sleep.”
He brushes his lips against mine before closing his eyes. A moment later, he’s asleep. I’m not as lucky but settle for watching him. He’s wrapped around me as if he’s afraid something is going to take me away. I gently run my fingers through his hair.
“I’m here. It’s okay.”
He snuggles even closer, breaking my heart. Tomorrow is going to be interesting. I just hope our relationship can withstand whatever he has to say.
Because, deep down, this feels like a goodbye.
I wake up early the next morning to find Alessandro watching me.
“Hope I wasn’t snoring,” I say with a small laugh.
“Only a little, but it was adorable.”
I look him over. He looks better—more rested—but there’s still a heaviness in his eyes that makes my chest tight.
“Are you ready to talk about it?”
He sighs. “No.”
