Page 82 of Brutal Obsession
Thrust.
“To…”
Thrust.
“Get...”
Thrust.
“Hurt.”
I muffle the rest of my reply with my pillow. My stance only doubles the strength of Giovanni’s pumps. He screws me senseless until the words he’s been seeking for the past two weeks spill from my lips. “I love you too much to stand by and watch that happen.”
He groans a deep, rumbling growl that, along with the heat of his cum exploding inside me, sends me spiraling into ecstasy.
32
GIOVANNI
Dressed in a black suit with a midnight dress shirt underneath, I sit on the bed and watch Valentina move around the bathroom. Her hair is loose and hanging down her back in effortless waves, and her skin is glowing in the aftermath of multiple orgasms.
My glow is for a different reason. Those three words she spoke at the start of her sentence slammed into me like a bullet to the chest.
I love you.
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Then the rush came. It was hot, wild, and unstoppable.
My pulse pounded like war drums when I fought heaven and hell to coerce it out of her again. My cum was dribbling down her thighs, and she was on the verge of a coma, but I refused to give up. I pushed and pushed and pushed until every shadow she could hide behind retreated, and my dedication paid dividends.
The woman I have an immediate, borderline-possessive obsession with loves me.
Now tell me again nothing good comes from insanity.
I’ve waited years for this. I bled for it. And now it seems surreal.
Incapable of not touching Valentina for longer than ten minutes when we’re in the same room, I join her in the bathroom, band my arm around her waist, and prop my chin on her shoulder.
She smiles at my neediness before she commences placing a final coat of mascara on her long lashes. Her strokes stammer when I whisper, “Say it again.”
Her eyes—those eyes that fucking undo me—meet mine in the vanity mirror. They show her defiance, but they also reveal we don’t have enough time for another marathon fuck.
Her mother is due to arrive in less than an hour.
The world tilts on its axis when Valentina answers my demand without the zaps of an orgasm coursing through her. “I love you.”
Those three little words make me soft, but fuck if I can give them up. I’ll shield her from the monsters I dine with and the so-called foes who hide their knives with their smiles. I’ll stand between her and every blade, bullet, and lie because she’s the most valued possession I own. To get to her, you’ll have to get through me first.
I pull her close until her heartbeat carves itself into my bones like it did the day I first saw her. “You know you don’t need all this shit, right?” I wait for her eyes to align with mine before I lower them to the makeup spread across the vanity. “Martina supplied them with your dress in case you didn’t have any makeup to suit the fabric.” Martina is the designer brought in to make Valentina’s dress. Dad has gone all out with Concetta’s birthday celebrations. It is a black-tie affair. “She assumed the heat on your cheeks when she took your measurements was artificial. We know better, don’t we,dolcezza?”
Valentina nods slowly before she dumps the mascara into the makeup bag Martina supplied. Then she scrubs the makeup off her face.
“Much better,” I murmur when her natural beauty peeks out from beneath layers of foundation and concealer.
Once she’s scrubbed her face clean, she spins in my arms. Her watch is confident but also shadowed with worry.
“Vanni,” she whispers my name like the spell she cast on me might break if she speaks it too loudly. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s an option we can take to identify the biological mother of your child before birth.”
I stiffen. This isnotwhere I thought she was going when she whispered my name.
