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Thirty-Six
Blaine growled,his last thread of control snapping as he grabbed Emilia’s hand and wrenched her away from the tree and out toward the parking lot.
If it were up to him, he would have taken her right there and then, but on soiree nights, the horny teenagers would soon make their way into the woods to make out in semi-privacy. Kind of like he and Emilia already had…
“Where are we going?” She stumbled behind him, and he slowed, vowing not to embarrass her just so they could get their kicks in the woods.
She was still new in town, and he refused to share this moment with anyone, even though his blood heated, and his body screamed for release. “Just get to the car.”
Seconds felt like hours, and he scooped her up, pretty much dumping her in the passenger side of his truck before bolting around to the driver’s seat. Soon, he had the engine roaring to life, and he gunned it back to his place, occasionally hooking his gaze to his right and catching a glimpse of her startled expression pointed ahead.
He pulled up to his house and yanked the hand brake, a thick cloud of dust lingering in the air. His heart surged. Close. So close. The moment he rounded the vehicle and opened her door, Emilia threw herself into his arms, and their lips meshed together for the journey to his front porch.
He fumbled with his keys, dropping them in a sharp, metallic clang at his feet. She let out a soft chuckle and so did he, but he was mostly absorbed in her kiss. So, damn the keys. At least for a minute.
He pressed her to his front door and ravaged her lips some more, her head falling back with a loud sigh while her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He wanted her right here. Right now. In the open air and underneath the stars. But then a car zoomed past on the road behind him, and he thought better of that idea.
Got to open the door. Got to get inside. Got to have her.
Yes, his vocabulary had reduced to fragmented sentences, but that was fine because Emilia was the best kind of distraction—her wild curls wilder than usual from this sizzling interlude that could only get hotter.
Her fingertips met his chest through his shirt’s gaping collar, her warmth kneading at his body, crawling his desire up another notch. Holy smokes. He let her go and scrambled for the keys, managing to shove the door open, only for them to stumble through the threshold.
They landed together on the hardwood floor and burst into a fit of laughter. He pushed her hair from her face, the heat dying a little and giving way to something else. Affection. Genuine affection. The thing that had bonded them together from that very first meeting a decade ago.
The wilderness of his darkened house surrounded her, and still, her chocolate brown eyes glinted with real joy, her wondrous curls fanning out in all directions beneath her.
At that moment, he found himself lost for words—or maybe just altogether lost—his emotions taking over and leaving nothing else but her and him, that beautiful nothingness swallowing his laughter.
Though her eyes still shone, she watched him in the stillness before speaking again. “Don’t ever leave me again.”
She reached out and stroked the edge of his forehead, and his world stilled. He shook his head, holding her gaze, meaning every bit of his next promise. “Never again.”
Because with all the uncertainty swirling around them, for all the Anthonys and Vittorios, and the myriad other unknowns, one thing held true. “You’re mine.”
He pressed his lips to hers, gentle this time, a silent vow that whatever came next, they’d be in it together. A single tear trailed down the side of her face, and he kissed her through it. She gave a hurried nod against that kiss and then hooked her hand around the back of his neck, holding him to her.
Moonlight poured in through a nearby window, the whites of the jasmine crown on her head glowing like a luminescent halo. Her ethereal beauty jarred against his rougher edges, and still, he wanted her. Had always wanted her.
He no longer believed what her father had said about him. That he wasn’t good enough. Rich enough. Or refined… None of that mattered because she wanted him too. And that was the most important thing here.
So he took the kiss deeper, sweeping his tongue over hers and savoring her soft heat, the kiss turning hard and insistent, teeth scraping and mouths pressing. He allowed his demand for her to consume him, just as her needy groan broke free.
She smelled of pear-scented shampoo and jasmine, and her featherlight touch slid under his shirt. Everything about her teased him, shook him to the core, provoked him to tug away his shirt.
He pushed the thin strap of her dress down next, wanting her naked and exposed too. Her breath hitched, and her eyes pulled wide, the black of her pupils dilating into expansive pools that lit his nerve endings and spurred him to bend and touch his lips to the underside of her breast.
She inhaled again and arched against him, the tip of his tongue brushing her nipple until she lifted her hands and raked her fingers through his hair. Under a whisper, she begged for more, and a blistering sensation undid his restraint.
He slid his callused hands over the delicate skin of her inner thigh, doubling back until he hit the sensitive juncture of her sex—stroking, penetrating, continuing to kiss her until he worked one shudder out of her after another, allowing him to swallow each beautiful sigh and moan.
Her head tilted back in pleasure, eyes pressed shut when he took the moment to bury himself deep inside her. She clenched around him and released a keening cry, making him damn near lose hold right along with her. He didn’t want this to end. Not just yet. He wanted more. Wanted to feel her. To impart a piece of himself on her soul forever.
And so he took her, slow, grasping for everything he’d needed and hadn’t had in all those years apart; one needy, desperate thrust at a time until her beautiful chocolate eyes flung open again, allowing him to see her surprise.
He got to her like she got to him.
There’d never been any escaping what they shared. No miles. No years. No family interjections. No keeping them apart. Every pain he’d held onto fell away, and he surged within her, losing and finding himself all at once.
Even as lust ebbed, it left him repeating what he now understood on a deeper and undeniable level. “You’re mine, Emilia Bonacci. You’ve always been mine.”
