I sigh, unable to find a way to comfort him. My argument over Alessa is pointless and carrying on would prove futile. “I hate you’re so sad, though.”
“It’ll pass,” he affirms, offering a small, false smile. “I still need time to adjust to this life.”
With his piece said, he leaves me on the back porch.
I look up at the sky as I walk to assume the position he just vacated at the railings. Everything was meant to be so clear-cut when we got free, but apparently, leaving the family business made things messier than ever.
In being the hero, Enzo got lost.
Now is the time to change that. It’s time to give back to the man who became the father I needed, absolved all other obligations to be my protector, and fought for us to be where we are today.
It’s time the hero got his savior.
I grab my phone, quickly unlock it, and pull up my texts. I make quick work to type out the text that I want a response back to quickly. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to sneak around and deceive, but what I’m about to do will be worth it.
‘Got a job for you. Find me all the details you can on Alessandra Massi. This is URGENT.’
CHAPTER FOUR
I feel the rub of silk against my temple with every step I take.
It does nothing to settle my curiosity; if anything, it sensualizes it. My body feels alive, thrumming with blood-boiling anticipation, and while my heart thuds away in my chest, I know it was to pound against my ribcage in eagerness to find out what the hell is now on the other side of the blindfold.
I’ve allowed Zane to dictate every move I’ve made. His hands are stuck firmly to my arms, guiding every move while he verbalizes when I need to prepare for a step up or a slight change in the ground’s gradient. I’m getting agitated having my independence striped of me, but I saw the anticipation burning in Zane’s eyes only thirty minutes earlier.
The intake of new furniture smell overwhelms me, and I halt in my spot. Before this was fun, the alluring game of guessing, but now it’s here, and I want to tear this blindfold off and find out where we are just to calm the unsettled feeling my stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Zane asks, his hands still on my biceps.
“Where are we?”
He releases me only to grab onto the knot at the back of my head and begin to release the pressure of silk from my eyes.
“Home.”
Home. The word resonates in my mind for a second as my eyes adjust to their new environment. I gaze around the room, and I’m shocked into a silent submission. I’m standing in a living room fit for the perfect family. With large couches arranged in front of a television and plenty of floor space to show off the gorgeous wooden flooring.
“I thought we had a home?”
“No, we had an apartment made for a couple,” he replies, giving me a pointed look. “This has a potential future to it.”
This feels all too good to be true. As if I fall for it, he’ll start to laugh, and this will be a belated April fool’s joke, but the longer I linger in it, the more the surrealism begins to dilute. I look around in utter disbelief, but it’s as I recognize photos of us two are dotted among family snaps that I realize this is Zane’s and my home.
“How?”
“I won a lot of money playing poker,” he teases, reminiscing of our old life. “I was putting it away, and your brothers and I have spent time renovating this into the perfect place for us to finally call a home.” He breaks away before continuing. “I don’t want to live in that tiny apartment with just a balcony for outdoor living for the rest of our lives. I want you to have that picket fence dream.” There’s a cheeky glisten to his eyes, and I watch him begin to grin. “I even built that fucking fence like I promised, sweetheart.”
He leads me to the window to look out at the front yard, and the thought makes my eyes water. Cutting us from neighbors and the road is a pristinely placed picket fence with an elaborate white gate at the end of our pathway. Flowers and shrubs line the lush, green yard, and a large beautiful pink blossom tree takes pride in the far corner. We have a drive big enough for two cars and a street that I had always dreamed of living on.
This is the all-American dream. The one I spent years watching fade away. The one I begged so vehemently to happen with Zane. The one I never truly gave up believing in.
I turn quickly to face Zane, and I feel engulfed with a wash of emotion that threatens to cripple me. Zane is the most perfect reflection of a happily ever after. The one thing I denied myself was always staring me right in the face. It’s taking me moments like this – those filled with such high doses of realism – to see that I have chosen a man to love me and continue to prove that what we have is lifelong.
What’s even better is that Zane never tires of taking days one at a time. He doesn’t get angry when I wake him in the middle of the night with my nightmares. He never stresses about what I’ve been made to do in my past, and he never deviates from the plan we both seem to have seamlessly promised one another.
“Thank you,” I whisper, tears wreaking havoc on my voice as they form a large ball in my throat. “Thank you for everything.” I close my eyes as I say that, but it’s too late as a tear crawls down my face. “Thank you.”
Zane breaks into my litany as he turns me around in his arms.
“There are no thanks needed here, sweetheart,” he tells me, sternly. There’s no derision in his expressions, just sheer honesty. “I have wanted to have my chance at a proper life with you, and when we finally saw an opportunity, I wanted to plan for this. It took me almost a year, but I have you where I want you.” He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me so he can rest his forehead against mine. “There are no thank-yous when it comes to love.”
“I’m just grateful,” I whisper, my eyes still heavy with tears.
“Be grateful, but I don’t need your thanks. I just need to know if you’re prepared for this new chapter in our life?”
“I am,” I reply, my voice meek.
“Good,” he says before kissing me. “Now, there’s something else.”
Something else? What else could he have possibly done apart from creating a home for whatever life we’re going to create over the years? He leads me to the dining room table, and I notice a sandy-colored file. From here, the scrawl of a name is too small to work out, but my instinct kicks in and tells me exactly what Zane has, and I feel like he’s about to present me with the Holy-fucking-Grail.
“This is Alessa’s file just like you asked,” Zane comments, bringing it forward on the table until it’s in front of me. “Everything you need to know is in there. You have time before I want to destroy all traces of it.” He takes my hand that reaches to grab the file. “But first, we are going to explore this house. That will be here when we’re done, but for now, I want to welcome the love of my life home.”
“What’s the plan to distract me then, Mr. Maverick?” I ask, pulling on the hem of his shirt with a hint of suggestion. “Are we going to christen the house?”
“No,” he replies, and while his tone is soft, it’s anything short of gentle. He has an eagerness in his voice, a throb of how turned on he is. His eyes have a devilish glaze to them, but it isn’t until he acts, throwing me into the wall behind us with my wrists captured in his strong hands, that I see the full extent of his horniness.
“Zane ...” I breathe through parted lips, my inhales becoming shallow as he raises my hands above my head and pins me to the kitchen wall with his body.
“You need to understand that I don't want to just christen this house, Amelia. I want every angel who blesses this house to blush fifty shades of fucking pink. I want you to remember how the kitchen table feels on that sweet ass of yours. I want you to remember the carpet burn from the stairs. I want you to feel the embers of our open fire long after it’s nothing but ash and we’re done making love. I want this to really mark the first chapter of this new story of ours." He releases me, but only to put his hands on th
e wall either side of my body. “So what do you say?” he asks. “Want to really explore this house?”
I can feel I'm blushing, but I can't help myself. I cross my arm over my chest, while my other brings my hand up to play teasingly with my lip.
"Hmm, so this story is going to be called what?" I ask, watching him react shocked with my question. "Wet, rugged, and insatiable?"
Zane ponders the thought for a while then pouts in agreement. "I guess, yeah ... Is that an issue?"
"No," I reply dropping my hands and defenses all at once. "I'm just wondering why the fuck I'm still fully dressed and miles from feeling any carpet burns."
I then offer a sweet smile and a little wink. Both of which cause Zane to react. He grabs me by my ass, dragging up to wrap my legs around his body, and while carnal need begins to build, he stills the moment to look at me.
"You'll be seeing stars soon, sweetheart, and wishing we had all day."
"We do have all day," I mutter, soft sarcasm greeting my words. "Now, work your magic."
As if on command, Zane steps in, and with lightning speed, my back’s pressed firmly against the wall again. This time, I have greedy hands roaming my body, pulling my summer dress up and over my head. The wall feels cooler now as my heated skin rests against it bare. I take a moment to tug on Zane’s shirt, pulling it off, so he’s left wearing nothing but his jeans and shoes. His body radiates heat, and as he smothers my body with his to drag me from my position against the wall, I lavish that searing heat as it mingles with my own.
Pulling me away slightly, his hand slips around to my back, and with quick success, he unsnaps my bra, wrapping his fingers around the material to force it away from my body. Next to go is my panties, and as soon as they hit the floor by our feet, Zane picks my hand up and leads me into our dining room. He spins me around as he drags me forward, and before I know it, he lifts me and places me on the table’s edge.
“Stay,” he orders, stepping back to unzip his jeans and push them to the floor along with his boxers. All in one, he kicks the denim away along with his boots and fixes me with a heavily seductive look.
Naughtily, I allow my gaze to drop, taking a greedy look at his erect cock. My heart pounds with eagerness as if this is the first I’ve ever had Zane Maverick before me. The fact we’ve made love multiple times is irrelevant; the way I know he’ll worship my body makes the excitement of the moment take over.
“Now,” he mutters, almost questioningly as he takes slow, cautious steps forward.
I look up at him, watching his every move as he closes the distance. His right hand reaches out to tap my knee, gesturing for me to spread my legs. As I obey, he takes one full step to situate himself between my parted legs. His hands reach the top of my legs, and he drags me forward across the varnished oak.
“I’d lay down, Amelia, and I suggest you hold on,” he tells me, trying to be a gentleman, but I can’t help but note the sanctimonious tone he delivers with his words.
Wrapping his arms around me, one hand supporting my back, the other resting along my face, he delivers a powerful kiss. He lowers my body, unraveling his arm from my back. I feel his knuckles against the inner part of my leg and feel his cock suddenly hit the entrance of my soaking pussy.
As he slips the tip inside, I know this is the beginning of the end. I know he’ll start slow, as he’s proven, but he’s soon going to make me howl in sexual rapture. His gets his rhythm going until his hand hits the table beside me and his other grips my hip deepening how far his length penetrates. He pummels me each time until he’s balls deep in me and unrelenting with each fresh thrust. I grip the table’s edge until I’m sure my knuckles are a bright white. I feel my back begin to arch, my shoulders grazing the table as my head lolls back with every penetration Zane delivers to me. My body becomes known to his, offering him total faith that he’ll send me flying from nirvana.
It’s with each power pounding, each new slap of flesh against flesh, and each smothered groan and growl that our bodies fight the urge to release and will to become unbidden. It’s always a losing battle, and I quickly unravel. I buck my hips, and as much as my body constricts around his length, I want more of Zane. He knows this and works with my orgasm, slowing his thrusts to gentle penetrations. It lengths my orgasm but really forces my body to feel everything.
As my body calms, I feel the tension in my spine unravel, and I find myself spent and flat against the brand new table. I stare at the ceiling, wondering how blessed heaven came to find a home with me. Zane enters my peripheral vision, dragging my attention away from the light fixture above me.
“I’m not done with you,” he says to me mere seconds after he’s finished his own orgasm.
I swear I feel myself still spasm as he pulls me toward the edge of the table, his hands wrapping around my bare thighs. Lifting me with ease, I place my hands around his neck and start to press tiny kisses upon his chest. With every step he takes, I apply another kiss, each one traveling toward the strong jawline that frames his handsome face. I loosen my arms, reaching out to grab his face and kiss him.
When he sets me down, I realize we’re on the stairs. I had assumed we were going upstairs to christen the bedroom, but apparently, Zane wants to make true to his word about the carpet burn. Leaning, he smothers my body with his form, forcing me to lay against the natural curve of the stair behind me.
He distracts me for one second by licking my lip, gently urging me to part my lips and allow his tongue to enter my mouth. I allow the French kiss to strengthen, proving my desire for him. However, I know I’ve been had as Zane quickly thrusts back into me. Caught by surprise, my head jolts back and a small, pleasurable mew escapes between our barely parted lips.
“I’m not doing this,” he whispers as he withdraws his entire length.
I want to argue, to ponder why he’s leaving me half-sated. However, he kisses me gently on the lips before trailing his lips down my across my neck, pausing between the valley of my breasts, before finally, loving across my scarred abdomen and continuing to go lower.
I bite my lip with anticipation as I watch for that final kiss to be my undoing, and although I’ve watched and waited, the moment Zane’s tongue grazes over my clit, my legs tremble, and I gasp involuntarily.
With my body laid out over the stairs, Zane traps me completely by wrapping his arms around my legs, lifting them slightly as his tongue slips inside my soaking folds. He sucks and flicks his tongue, forcing me to an unimaginable height, and just as he allows me to get used to the pleasure, he moves to suck on my clitoris and arouse me more.
My body starts to shake and tremble, but I withhold completely allowing my newest orgasm to rip through me like a tidal wave waiting to leave me a total mess.
“Don’t hold back, sweetheart,” Zane commands, giving himself two minutes to breathe. He licks his lips, shoots me a wink, and gives me a wicked grin before continuing. “Smother me.”
He doesn’t waver on the notion as he goes back to licking me out, his face buried deep between my legs. I’m a silent wreck, waiting for life to wash through me with the buzz of ecstasy.
I give in, feeling myself contract and release through my orgasm. I come, yet Zane doesn’t relinquish his perfected assault. If anything, allowing myself to listen to his command has him hastening his speed.
“Fuck,” I manage as I finally feel my body calm some. There’s silence, stillness, as Zane pulls back and my body recovers.
“So fucking hot,” he growls, coming back up my body and placing wet kisses over me. “You taste divine today, sweetheart. See,” he says and kisses me. I’m not even bothered as I taste myself; if anything, my arousal increases tenfold. “I’m still not done with you.”
“You’re trying to kill me,” I murmur, breathlessly.
“Death by orgasm is a way to go,” he tells me. He then grins, chuckling at himself. “Let’s test it.”
Upon the initial thrust, my body seems to reset itself, allowing his length to drag me from t
he earth back up to heaven ready to drop me from an almighty height. My body gets dragged forward as Zane pulls me down on his cock, and I feel the burn on my ass from the carpet, but when he plunges deep in me, I forget and allow my body to arch around the step behind me. I don’t care for the burn against my skin or the annoyance of not being able to throw him down to get on top; Zane can give me all manner of markings if it feels this deliciously good.
***
We’ve blessed the entire downstairs of this house, but we decided to leave the upstairs until later. For now, we’re just lying with one another on the couch and a bottle of champagne by our side. Zane hugs me tight, my naked body draped over his in exhaustion. While I lazily draw around his tattoos out of habit, I gaze up at him.
“I owe you so much,” I whisper; my entire body spent, and it shows with my words. “Regardless of what happened, you proved who you were always willing to fight for.”
“Sweetheart, there’s no one else I’d fight these battles for.” He gives me a tiresome smile. “Now, we’re here, and I won’t regret them. We both lost families to find one. We both finally found happiness.” I watch him trace every contour of my face, a hand coming up to wipe some hair away. “I know you have a lot of demons to work through, but you’re doing it here in your home with me. You’re away from creating more demons to haunt you. There’s no need to concern yourself with your death count or what next move your father or Giovanni will do.”
“I know,” I murmur.
“Now is the time for true family and big dreams.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I joke, blindly reaching for the champagne bottle we’ve been chugging from since we decided to quit our sexcapades for a little while.
“The party has arrived!” a voice bellows as he throws open the front door. “You said to be here at six. It’s just after, so you best be ready for everyone’s arrival!”
I stare at the doorway, unmoved as if I’m waiting for this moment to melt away. However, I watch the shadow on the wall move closer, and as Carlo appears in the doorway, I panic. I’m stark naked, albeit facedown, but still, my bare ass is out in the air.
Femme Fatale Loved (Pericolo #3) Page 5
