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“Canta di nuovo per me, Mom,” – sing for me again, Mom – I beg.
Her lips move against mine, whispering the lyrics in Italian once more. But this time, the sorrow has faded, replaced with solaceand hope. The love my mother gave so freely, I have found again. Not lost to the past but reborn in Tatiana's heart.
The warm water flows over our entwined bodies as Tatiana sings on, her voice like an angel's. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, tears mingling with the droplets that cling to her skin.
“My mother,” I explain, “used to sing this for me. Tatiana, you pulled me back in time.”
"Non piangere, amore mio,"- Do not cry, my love - she murmurs, stroking my hair.“Sono qui. Sarò sempre qui.” – I am here. I will always be here.
Her words pierce my heart, unleashing emotions too powerful to contain. A sob rises in my throat as I cling to her, overcome by the love and comfort she offers so freely.
Love, I realize, is not about grand gestures or lavish gifts. It is about intimacy, trust and acceptance. About finding a home in another's heart and offering shelter in return.
I lift my head and gaze into Tatiana's eyes, darkened by desire yet filled with tenderness. No walls remain between us now. Our hearts and souls are bare, secrets shared in whispers and touch.
Desire flares as we kiss, deep and slow, then builds to a blaze. My hands roam her body, seeking to give the pleasure she has granted me. I lift her against the wall, her legs wrapping around my waist, and take her lips in my own.
I thrust my dick deep into her, plunging up as she begins to grind against my cock.
A cry of ecstasy escapes her lips as I begin to move. The water pounds against my back, urging me on as I lose myself in her warmth. I take my hand, wrap it gently around her neck, while my other arm supports her ass. With her tits tight against my chest, I fuck her deep and slow.
Our rhythm is primal and intense, chasing a release that lifts us beyond earthly bounds.
When climax claims us at last, I hold her close, keeping her safe in my embrace. I find my way home in her arms. No one has ever believed in me as she does. Understood and accepted me so completely.
After dressing, we exit the den and head upstairs to the bar for a cup of coffee before we leave. While I pick up our coffees, I turn to the sound of raised voices behind me.
The voices grow louder, and angry words slur together. I tense, immediately on alert. Someone is confronting Tatiana, and by the belligerent tone, they clearly have been drinking.
Sliding from the barstool, I grab my gun from the holster and make my way to Tatiana’s side. A familiar figure staggers up to her, gesturing wildly.
Martin, of course, only he would choose a time like this to make trouble. Driven by jealousy and liquor, he openly confronts Tatiana about our relationship.
My jaw clenches, anger simmering in my gut. This pathetic display will not be tolerated. Not here, not now, not ever.
Martin's days are numbered. But first, I have a situation to defuse before he causes a scene and attracts unwanted attention. Slipping my gun into the back of my pants, I haste to Tatiana’s side. Her eyes meet mine, pleading for understanding.
As we stand there together, my thoughts drift back to the complex dynamic between the three of us. It's become increasingly clear to me that Martin's feelings for Tatiana run deeper than simple friendship or loyalty. And while it's not my place to judge or interfere, I can't help but feel a gnawing jealousy taking root within me.
The more I consider it, the more I realize that this revelation only adds to our already precarious situation. If Martin's feelings for Tatiana were to interfere with our mission or cause further tension within the ranks, the consequences could be catastrophic.
But there will be time to address that later. For now, I must focus on ensuring Tatiana's safety.
Chapter 34
Tatiana
Martin storms towards us with bloodshot eyes and his hands balled into fists. Shock ripples through me. What is he doing here?
Before I can speak, he jabs a finger at Philippe. “You. You took her from me.”
Philippe's arm tightens around my waist, a silent warning for me to stay out of this mess. My heart pounds as I glance between them. The tension as palpable and thick as the cigar smoke-filled air.
“Martin, calm down. What are you talking about?” My voice trembles.
“I know you're sleeping with him, Tatiana.” His lip curls in disgust. “You’re leaving your career, leaving me with empty promises, all for this mafia scum.”
“That's not true at all.” I grip Philippe's hand, seeking comfort. “I don’t understand?”
