Like <b>he </b>wants to prove his point, he moves back between my <b>legs</b>, Burying his tongue in my pussy top <b>up </b>what’s <b>still </b>flowing from me like a river. It takes seconds for him to make me burn again. My nerve ends sizzle, and the tension that just eased starts to build again.


    I’m consumed with the desire to touch him. I reach down and wind my fingers through his hair. “Gianni…” I moan his name while lifting my hips.


    I offer myself to him, grinding against his face when the pressure from his tongue isn’t enough. Whenever we’re together, he turns me into this greedy, needy slut. Unable to think about anything but more. His rumbles vibrate against my slick<b>, </b>throbbing flesh as he runs his tongue from my asshole up to my clit and back down again<b>, </b>circling my tight asshole before applying just enough pressure to make me cry out.


    “Yes! More!” I barely recognize the sound.


    Another broken animal sound tears itself from my chest when he pulls my hands from his head and stands. He tears off his shirt and pants while I lie back, trying to catch my breath. The man standing before me is the epitome of gorgeous. He’s beautiful, perfect, right down to the intricate ink decorating his smooth skin.


    Mine. He is mine.


    And he wants me. His cock is rigid, the tip dripping pre–cum, giving away how badly he needs me, yet he shoves my hand away when I reach for him. Always in control. All I can do is smile. He pulls me up, turns me around and guides me back down to the desk until I’m lying on my stomach with my ass in the air.


    “Your ass is perfection, little bird, and I can’t wait to fuck it.”


    “Maybe someday, we’ll see,” I tease, which earns me a p to


    me on further.


    the ass. The sting ripples over my skin but inevitably only turns


    “Oh, it will help. I’m fucking this ass<b>, </b>no matter what. I’ll be the only man who’s been there, so it’s mine, baby.” Whatever response I had is lost to me when he presses the head of his cock against my entrance and works the thick head into me. “Shit.” I gasp. There’s never been a sensation like the way he stretches me. The pleasure bes ufortable when I feel pressure against my asshole that leaves my nails scraping along the wooden desk. Jesus.


    “Shh,” he whispers, working his dick deeper into my pussy while probing the tight ring of my ass with his thumb. Something warm and wet hits my skin–his saliva–before he resumes gently fucking my ass with his finger. Slowly he loosens the tight ring of muscles, and I rx into his touch. My nerve endings crackle, every part of me consumed by how he works my body over. I might as well be y in his hands.


    “My dirty girl,” he chuckles once I be ustomed to the sensation and push back against him. There is no pain this time. Only pleasure, deep and dark, and so<b>, </b>so good. “You like having your ass and pussy taken at the same time. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”


    “Yes… yes!” I moan, working him the way he’s working me, giving back the pleasure he so generously grants with every stroke and p of skin on the skin when he drives himself balls deep inside of me. He’s so deep it feels like he’s piercing my soul. “I’ll have to get you some toys,” he grunts, quickening his pace. <b>“</b>Have you walk around with a buttplug inside all d good and ready for my cock. Fuck your pussy with a dildo while I take your ass with my cock. Would you like that?”


    get you


    I’m so caught up in the pleasure coursing through me that I miss the question. My scalp stings when he <i>fists </i>my hair in his hand and yanks my head back. “Would you?”


    <i>u</i>, little bird. You have no “Yes!” I sob, and it’s true. The thought amplifies the heat and brings me closer to the edge. “Yes, please<i>! </i>Take me. Use me.” “It’s so easy to make you beg,” he chuckles, his breath against my ear. “The things I want to do to idea. I love seeing how much you enjoy my cock, and how fast you fall apart when I’m inside you. You be such a slut for my dick when you’re needy and racing for the finish line<b>.</b><b>” </b>


    The words are degrading, yet they hit their mark and send me leang towards the finish line. I want the release; I need it so badly. Every conscious thought is focused on that single goal as my body works for it, my muscles clenching around Gianni’s 4 pounding dick until… until…


    “Yes! Oh, God, I’ming! Yes!” My cries dissolve into frantic gasps for air while Gianni picks up his pace. His hips press against mine, and he punishes me with every thrust, almost like he hates me. Fuck, he takes me in such a savage way that the desk moves with each thrust.


    “Your pussy squeezes me so tightly, little bird. I don’t think I could pull out of you if I tried. Not when my cum belongs inside you. Always inside you.”


    All I can do is smile against the desk and let him use me. A momentter, he explodes letting out a roar of pleasure. I feel his hot seed pumping inside me, thoroughly warming me. The idea of him losing himself in me. Losing control.


    “Fuck.” He pulls out with a groan while all I do is remain weak and trembling, lying there. At least, my body is. I wish there was a way toe so hard a person could forget everything bothering them. It’s not possible. Once Ie back to reality and everythinges into focus, I’m reminded of the shit storm that is my life.


    I blink back the tears that are shimmering in my eyes. I will not cry I can’t. I need to be strong. Gianni notices immediately as he helps me stand, because why wouldn’t he? The concern carved into his handsome features is the pr opposite of the dark, seething animal he was moments ago. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”


    I can only shake my head. “No, that was… great. Better than great. It’s just…”


    He’s going to hate me for ruining the moment. I just know it. Who wants to deal with a teary girl after something as great as what we just shared. Things are already so tenuous between us, and I did hold a gun to his chest earlier. Now, I’m unraveling into an emotional wreck.


    “Come here.” He presses back into his chair, holding his arms out for me to sit in hisp. I hate how fast I climb up into hisp, feeling vulnerable. It’s like only his strong arms have the power to keep me from falling apart.


    He cradles me against his chest for a short while, rocking me like a small child. I melt into him, the feeling of his warm skin against mine, the heavy thump of his heartbeat in my ear. For a second, <b>I </b>can forget about who killed my mom, what’s wrong with my father, and the battle between Gianni and me. The only thing I feel in this singr moment is content. Joy.


    Gianni, of course, has to pop that fictional bubble with a sigh. “We can avoid it all discover who killed your mom…”


    you want, but we both know you came here to


    “I know, and I haven’t forgotten it.” No matter how much I wish I could. I raise my head from his shoulder, studying his nk expression. “Somebody killed her, and my dad thinks it was you. He has this entire scenario made up in his mind. It’s insane, but it’s also hard to believe that it’spletely made up.”


    “The loss of those we love can affect each of us differently. When we lose someone we love without an exnation, the brain is forced to devise a logical exnation, which means putting the me, especially something like thinking your spouse was murdered, onto someone else.” He gives me what could pass for a guilty look. “No matter what, I can see why he’d think I was responsible, but he doesn’t know me. Not truly. He knows what the media and his peers know. He knows what my rap sheet says about me, but certainly, he believes what he wants to.”


    “But it wasn’t you?”


    I can’t believe how much I’m hanging on to his response right now. This could mean continuing together or rippin beating heart out of my chest.


    still-


    He scowls, shaking his head. “I swear to you it wasn’t me. I had no reason to kill your mother. That isn’t how I do things- murdering innocent women to get a point across?” A look of disgust twists his features into something ugly. “That’s not me. Believe what you want about me otherwise, but that is one thing I need you to believe.”


    I want to believe him. I need to believe him. Part of me knew all along that it wasn’t him<b>, </b>even as uncertainty makes a person believe in anything that might seem like a rational answer.


    “If you didn’t do it, then who did?”


    He runs his fingers through my hair, distracting me from the fear of discovering the truth. “Honestly, Caterina, if I knew I would tell you. Sometimes, things like this happen, and there are never any answers. If all these years have passed and there hasn’t been a conclusion reached, maybe it’s time for him to try to heal. For both of you.”


    “It’s not me that I’m worried about.”


    He takes my chin into his hand, smiling softly. “Of course, it’s not You’re never worried about yourself.”


    “Don’t do that.” I jerk my chin away and try to ignore the hurt I leave behind. Now is not the time to break down or get off–topic. “This isn’t about me, though even if it was, I’m not some angel. You don’t need to tell me how good of a person I am. Yes, I’m worried about my father, nevertheless he’s not the only one who needs an answer. I want to know the truth too. Was my mother shot? Was it an ident? He said the original autopsy included a gunshot wound to the head. I mean, I guess that would’ve been what killed her, but if that’s true the autopsy was changed. He swears there’s an original report and told me he found it.”


    “Do you believe him?”


    That is the big question, and because it’s too important to fire off a thoughtless answer, I take a second to give it actual thought. Do I believe him? Nobody else seems to. They must know something I don’t. Then again…


    “I guess it’s easy for people who don’t know him as well as I do to write this off as a grieving husband grasping at straws after all this time,” I muse. “Trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense. I can see why they would want to dismiss him right away, but I know him. He’s my dad, and well, he might be a little cracked. However, I also know he wouldn’t make this up. I don’t think he would keep pushing this hard, or putting this much effort into something that wasn’t real. He believes he’s right. And he’s already…” I hate admitting this, but I want Gianni to know how serious this is. “He’s already lost his job because of it.”


    Somehow, that statement awakens him. The mask of concern falls away in favor ofplete shock. “They fired him? After all the years he put in on the force?”


    “Yeah.” I frown. “He didn’t even tell me. I’m sure he’s thought about it, although it can’t be easy. My guess is that he’s too


    ashamed to tell the truth.”


    “This is way worse than I thought,” he murmurs, staring into space like he’s talking to himself.


    “He doesn’t know that I know. I only found out today. I haven’t been home yet.” A shiver ripples through me, and I draw my arms around myself. “I’m not looking forward to going home either. Am I supposed to tell him I know? Or do I wait for him to tell me?”


    Gianni pulls me close again–gentle, protective, and right away the tension building in my muscles starts to dissolve. I can breathe easier with my head against his shoulder.


    His lips brush my ear before he whispers, “If I could take all this away, I would. Those aren’t just words. I would rather you not have to go through any of this.”


    “I believe you.” I can’t help but nuzzle his neck, breathing deep, looking to pull as much of his scent into my lungs as I can.


    “I think for now, the best thing to do is wait for him toe to you. If you confront him–and anything will seem like a confrontation, no matter how kind and concerned youe across–it will only worsen things. Right now, from the sound of things, you don’t want to make it any more difficult than it is.


    “That’s true.”


    His arms tighten around me. “Outside of that<b>, </b>I want you to know that I swear to you on my life that I did not have anything to do with your mother’s death. I’m going to find out what happened though<b>, </b>because seeing you so broken up and hurt kills me.”


    “You don’t have to. ” Even if my heart does soar at the possibility. If anybody has the resources, it’s him.


    “I’m not saying it just to say it. I mean it. I have every intention of figuring this


    out.<b>” </b>


    “Really?” I almost can’t believe the emotion that wells in my chest. It’s all–consuming. The idea of not having to handle this mental load alone is overwhelming. I didn’t understand until now, really, what a strain it’s been. How lonely it is to carry a secret all by myself. I don’t have to be alone anymore.


    68


    +25 <b>BONUS </b>


    “We’re going to make it through this, I promise.” Gianni’s lips brush against my neck and I sigh, fully content.


    For the first time in days, I have faith. I can allow myself to believe this could end. That maybe, finally, Dad can have the closure he needs. “Please,” I whisper, tucking my head under his chin like he can protect me from the world. “I’m afraid that if he doesn’t find out the truth, it will destroy him, and then he won’t have anything left to live for. Not even me.”


    The truth of that statement pierces my heart with a dull knife.


    <b>I </b>can’t lose my dad. I’ve already lost too much.


    Gianni’s hold tightens, dragging me from my thoughts, and while’m afraid of the uncertainty of what may happen going forward between us, I’ve never been more content in my life, cradled in his arms. And it makes me believe that we might have finally found our way back to each other. Against all odds.