Page 102 of Marry Me Not
I flattened my palms against his tattooed chest. “You told me I’d be bored, remember?”
“You disagreed.”
“People change their minds, Cosimo.”
He cocked a brow. “Have you?”
My heart pounded hard inside my chest. This was my chance to tell him how I felt, but fear gripped me. I still didn’t know what was going through his head. Not really. And laying my heart out to him only to have him stomp all over it when we still had months of living with each other?
I was afraid it would kill me.
So I said, “I don’t know.”
His palms tightened on my hips. For a moment, I thought he’d shove me away. I was already readying myself for the pain of his rejection. But he didn’t.
Instead, his expression softened. Like he could sense my hidden fear.
He lifted me, forcing me to wrap my legs around him, and pressed me to the shower wall. He was hard again, and he entered me slowly. Intentionally.
This time when he fucked me, his eyes burned into mine the entire time. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he kissed me. His tongue slid into my mouth, tasting the inside. The kiss started off unhurried, but as his thrusts sped up, it became frantic. The way you kissed someone when you thought it might be the last time.
My throat tightened even as pleasure coiled inside me. I dug my nails into his back and held on for dear life as he screwed me into the shower wall. He thrust into me, hitting just the right spot. Everything in me was tightening into a single point and then—bliss.
He groaned against my lips as his own release swept through him.
Yes, I knew what I wanted now. I wanted this. I wantedhim.
But wanting wasn’t the same as getting. Not even close.
CHAPTER 35
FABIANA
The next morning,I woke disoriented.
For a few slow seconds, all I could register was the soft weight of the blankets and the dull pain between my legs. Then memory crashed over me all at once.
The sauna. The shower. Cosimo’s mouth on mine, his hands sliding over my wet skin. The look in his eyes when he held me against the tile like he wanted to say something and couldn’t.
Panic hit a second later.
I twisted toward the clock on the nightstand. 8:12.Shit.
Cosimo had probably already left for Italy.
I yanked on the robe hanging off the bedpost and hurried through the connecting bathroom, still half tangled in sleep. After the shower, he’d toweled me off and brought me back to my room. I’d been so exhausted, so thoroughly spent, that I must’ve passed out the second my head hit the pillow. It couldn’thave been much later than seven o’clock, but I’d slept through the entire night.
His bedroom was empty. I turned and rushed downstairs, my bare feet thudding against the new runner I had installed on the steps. “Hello?” I called, but the house gave nothing back. The living room was empty. The dining room too. The silence made my heartbeat climb higher. I swear, if he’d left without me, I was going to kill him.
Then I heard it. A soft clatter from somewhere deeper in the house, probably the kitchen.
As I stormed in, relief hit so hard it almost made me dizzy.
Cosimo stood with his back to me by the coffee machine, one hand braced on the counter while he lifted the carafe with the other.
“You’re still here,” I breathed.
His shoulders went tight for half a second before he poured coffee into a mug. “I’m still here.”
