112


    CATERINA


    Idon’t know what’s wrong with me today. Everything is back to nonal. <b>The </b>baby is okay, and Ishouldbe happier than ever, <b>except </b>I can’t seem to stop my eyes from leaking.


    If I didn’t know better, I would think I have PMS. I’m that emotional and uneasy, hanging on the edge of tears while I sit around the house and try to keep myself upied. nni’s understandably busy, working like crazy with Roger to track down Jack and Donovan. I’m not about to get in the way of that. I want those bastards dead.


    Whoops, there go my eyes again, filling with tears and blurring the article I’m reading on my tablet about the ways stress can affect pregnancy. I need to believe there won’t be any adverse effects on the baby after what I experienced. No matter how many times I remind myself of all the women in the world who deal with stressful jobs every single day, busy family lives, or any number of other stresses while pregnant, it’s not enough. I’m still anxious, and worried.


    I wish I had killed Donovan when I had the chance. I should’ve stabbed him to death. One wound for every time he made my skin crawl while touching me in that filthy room. One for every nasty remark, every time he pushed his crotch into my face.


    It still wouldn’t be enough.


    And it’s knowing they’re still out there somewhere that frustrates <b>me </b>to the point of tears. My best friend is locked in her bedroom, unable to bring herself to talk to anybody but me–even then, it’s like pulling teeth to get anything more than a few words at a time out of her. She’s retreating into her shell again and is sinking deeper whenever anyone tries to pull her out. It’s the most scariest, helpless feeling and, ultimately, those monsters are walking around free somewhere while we carry the emotional and physical scars of their actions.


    My hand trembles as I reach for the herbal tea on the nightstand. It isn’t fear sending tremors through me, or frustration. It’s anger. I’m angry, and I’m even angrier that I have a reason to be angry. I hate them for what they’ve done to all of us. For how they’ve changed me. I don’t recognize myself. Who is this woman so bloodthirsty for revenge?


    I’m still mulling that over and sipping on my tea when the bedroom door opens slowly, like the person doing the opening is being extra careful not to be noisy. My heart swells and for the first time in hours, I smile.


    “I’m still awake,” I call out.


    A momentter, Gianni appears in the doorway. “It’ste,” he murmurs. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was scolding me. Not that he wouldn’t, but he should know better than to waste his time by now. I’m a big girl.


    “It is.” Setting the cup and tablet aside, I re at the clock before raising an eyebrow. “And here you are,


    office a little after midnight.”


    finally leaving your


    “Pregnancy is making you even more of a handful than you were before.” He grins, taking a seat next to me, bef?re slowly bending down to ce a kiss against my belly.


    The caress of his lips is soft, almost reverent, and I melt into the mattress. Nobody would guess he’s the sort of man who can be both gentle and kind. A man who makes me feel absolutely worshiped.


    <b>I </b>can’t resist running my fingers through his soft, dark hair. “Are you as tired as you look?”


    “I’m alright.” His soft sight tells me otherwise. “This isn’t the first time I’ve burned the candle at both ends. I’m used to theck of sleep.”


    ‘Are you getting any closer to finding him?” Lifting his head, he peers up at me. A sh of guilt flickers in his eyes, and suddenly I wish I hadn’t asked. “Actually, I’m sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t have asked. If there’s one room of the house where you should be allowed to close the door on all our problems, this is one.”


    <b>“</b>If you want to talk about it, I’m happy too.” Sitting up, he takes off his tie and starts unbuttoning his shirt.


    “It’ste. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.” I sit up, then push myself onto my knees behind him. I can’t exin this sudden, all- consuming desire to touch him. To be closer. I’ve finally figured out what was missing all day, why I’ve been so edgy and


    <b>emotional</b>.


    <b>Him.I </b><b>was </b>missing him, his touch<b>, </b>and his familiar spicy scent. Something about it makes my toes curl<b>, </b>and this heady need builds <b>low </b>in my belly. Possessed with need, I bury my face into the crook of his neck and breathe him in. I ce <b>my </b>hands on his shoulders, and I swear something loosens inside me. It’s like a knot unraveling.


    It’s been too long since we’ve had sex, and I crave his closeness<b>. </b>There’s something so sweet and simple about pulling his shirt oft once it’s unbuttoned, revealing the intricate ink and muscles that move beneath my fingertips as I trace the dark lines <b>of </b>his dragon tattoo.


    “How was your day?” He turns his head, and I lean in for a kiss before pressing my lips to his bare shoulder. The groan of pleasure he releases zings straight through me. “You have no idea how good it feels to have your lips on me. I’ve missed you so much. Missed your touch and your scent. It was unbearable torture without you.”


    “I know.” I continue to pepper kisses along his shoulder and the back of his neck, then massage the tight muscles with my thumbs. “Today was long, but I kept myself upied. Sheryl was nicepany. I asked her if she’d teach me some of her recipes. I love cooking and want to be able to make some of the things she makes for you, that you enjoy.“,


    He reaches back and covers my hands with his. “This is what I want. This is what I’ve had in my head from the beginning. Having you here, waiting for me at the end of each day. Something sweet to look forward to after all the ugly, filthy shit I wade through,”


    “You mean you want me to hang around the house all day and be avable to you whenever you snap your fingers?”


    “What’s so wrong with that?” When I dig my nails into his flesh, he lets out a huskyugh. “What? I’d like to keep you barefoot and pregnant and chained to the stove. So long as the chain is long enough to reach the bedroom.”


    “You’re a chauvinist pig,” I protest over hisughter.


    “Okay, okay, fine.” He smirks at me over his shoulder, and the soft light from the nightstand dances over his chiseled features, turning him from the dark, dangerous viin to the kind,passionate man I’vee to know. “That’s a line I heard from my old man when I was a kid. All I want is you here. All the time. Where I can see you and touch you and remind myself you’re real. That I didn’t dream you up.”


    “You didn’t dream me up.” The scruff on his cheeks rubs against my palms when I take his face into my hands. “I’m real, and I’m here. I might give you shit, but my biggest joy is being right beside you.”


    “I love you.” The words shine from within him when he smiles, warming me like the sun on a soft spring day. Gentle, yet necessary for life. For my life, anyway.


    “I love you<b>, </b>too.” The words don’te close to expressing how I truly feel. How much I need him, how whole he makes me. How his kiss unlocks something in my core, something hot and greedy and strong enough to make my breathe fast.


    A sizzle runs up my spine when his tongue probes my lips, then slides into my mouth. He takes his time, kissing me slowly, exploring me while my nails sink into his firm shoulders. My hunger for him isn’t the kind that fades away when I get a taste. It only grows more potent, like his kiss is gasoline poured on the fire zing in my heart.


    He breaks the kiss to lift my t–shirt over my head and tosses it on the floor. When he stares at my body–nostrils ring, mouth open to allow for his harsh breathing–a flush creeps up over my neck and into my cheeks.


    “Perfect,” he whispers, running a finger from my corbone down to my navel. Goosebumps pebble my skin before he eases me back until I’m lying against the satin–covered pillows.


    Taking my breasts, he molds them in his hands, pushing them together. His tongue sweeps over my nipples until I lift my hips, beckoning him between my legs. I need him, right now. “Gianni… yes…” I whimper while my fingers run through his hair and scrape over his scalp. He groans and shudders as his tongue moves in wet circles, teasing my nipples into taut peaks.


    After tempting me, he finally closes his lips around one and sucks, flicking the sensitive tip until my head spins and all I can do is moan his name. My arousal continues to build, the juices from my pussy running down my thighs until they soak into the sheets. All for him. He’s the only man who could do this to me.


    <b>I’m </b><b>panting </b><b>by </b><b>the </b>time he releases my nipple with a soft pop. The <b>he’s </b>moving his lips<b>, </b>zing a skillful <b>trail </b>down my <b>torso</b><b>, </b><b>making </b><b>my </b><b>muscles </b>flutter beneath his lips. “<b>I’ve </b>missed your body<b>,</b><b>” </b>he whispers<b>, </b><b>and </b>the hot breath fanning against <b>my </b><b>flesh </b><b>makes </b><b>me </b><b>shiver</b>. <b>“</b><b>I’ve </b>missed the way you melt beneath my fingertips and moan my <b>name</b><b>.</b>”


    <b>I </b><b>part </b>my legs to make room for him between them, and he release an animalistic growl. “And the way you smell…” Another growl rips from him as he lowers his head and drags the scruff ofs cheeks along my inner thigh. There’s <b>no </b><b>resistance </b>when he peels away my soaked thong to drag his tongue over my smooth swollen lips.


    <b>I </b>jerk my <b>hips </b>forward and let out a gasp of pleasure. “Yes… yes, mare of that…Gianni!!”


    He ttens his tongue against my pussy and takes his time devouring every inch of my skin, before finding my tiny clit. <b>It’s </bplete bliss, that first flick of his tongue. Lightning bolts of pleasure ripple through me, and I lift my hips greedily in anticipation of the next lick.


    1121


    Fuck<b>, </b><b>little </b>bird. <b>Spread </b>those legs wide. I want to see this <b>pussy</b><b>, </b>y pussy,” he orders in that deep voice of his where <b>I </b><b>can’t </b>help but do <b>as </b>he <b>says</b>. I’m exposed and at <b>his </bplete mercy, and nothing has ever felt so right. “I’m obsessed with your cunt, Caterina. I want to eat it all fucking day, to swallow every drip of cin and do it all over again. Morning, noon, and night I’d spend between your thighs so long as you keep that pretty pussy on my tongue.”


    “Your mouth is filthy,” I groan. The words are barely out of my mouth as he descends on me, his tonguepping up my <b>juices </b>before focusing on my clit. He makes quick strokes against the sensitive bundle of nerves and suddenly I’m breathless.


    My heartbeat thunders in my ears, my muscles tense, and every fiber of my being is fixated on reaching the end. I’m so close<b>, </b><b>so </b>fucking close. “Gianni, oh god!!” I manage to gasp before moaning again, and again, while Gianni’s tongue drives me higher and higher until… until…


    My voice breaks and there’s nothing to do but scream silently, letting the waves of blissful pleasure crash over me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m afraid of the intensity and the way it goes on<b>, </b>stretching out thanks to the way Gianni continues eating me like a man starved. I can’t control the sensations coursing through me as the orgasm drags on, growing more powerful.


    Gianni only lifts his head when my silent screams turn to tears. “Shit. Caterina, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks, crawling up the length of my body. There’s deep concern etched across his features when I pry open my eyes to find him looking down at me.


    Ishake my head as hot tears roll down my cheeks. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t stop the tears froming. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” It’s so ridiculous that I have tough at myself even as my body coughs with sobs. I can’t control my emotions.


    Is it the baby? Or just the fact that my life’s been so hectic and unpredictabletely?


    Gianni answers the question before I can voice it. “You needed that release,” he muses, wiping my cheeks with his thumbs.


    “I guess I did.” The intensity is dying down now and I feel sort of stupid, yet he continues to stare at me with adoration.


    “I’ve never made a womane so hard, she cried.”


    “There’s a first for everything.” I wind my arms around his neck and press into him<b>, </b>my lips on his. The tangy taste of my arousal explodes against my tongue, and there’s something incredibly erotic about tasting yourself on someone else. Gianni quickly works his way out of his pants and boxers, leaving himself bare. His cock is rock hard–the slight brush of my hand against his dripping head stirs a rumble from deep within his chest


    “Do that again, and I might juste on the mattress.”


    “We can’t have that now, can we?” I tease.


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