Breathless for Him (Davison & Allegra)

by Sofia Tate

  I raise my head once more and notice a woman in an aisle seat, barely pressing her hands together as if she were pretending to clap, a scowl on her face. When she leans over to the center, she comes into full view.

  Ashton.

  I give another quick bow, then quickly walk off to the side and out of the ballroom. I head straight for the living room, where Lucy, Tomas, and I left our belongings.

  I shut the door and drop onto one of the sofas. I throw my head back onto the cushions, taking deep breaths.

  The door creaks open as Davison appears.

  “Did you know Ash—”

  Before I know it, he grabs my hands and jerks me up to my feet. His lips crash into mine, impaling my mouth with his hot tongue.

  His breath caresses my face. He is hungry for me. It’s infectious. Once I have a taste of him, I always want more.

  He rears his head back. “Come with me,” he commands.

  He tugs me behind him into the hallway, coming to a door that opens to reveal a narrow stairway.

  “Davison, we don’t have long. Tomas is only singing two arias.”

  He ignores my comment as we alight on the third floor. We hurry to the left and into the first door.

  He has brought me to what looks like his childhood room. It’s painted blue with a matching rug, a twin bed in the corner. One side of the room is covered in posters of various players from the Yankees and Rangers, while the other is decorated in Harvard pennants and memorabilia.

  With the door shut behind us, he pushes me against it, my arms wrapped in his grip.

  He starts to kiss me, sucking on the spot between my neck and collarbone. “A hot girl in my room while my parents are downstairs without a clue. This is my teenage fantasy come true.”

  “Mmm. Boys will be boys, huh? Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Stop talking, baby. We don’t have long and I need to fuck you now,” he grunts, his voice rough, his emerald eyes hungry with lust.

  He hikes up my dress, searching for my panties under the silk to pull them down, while I quickly unbuckle his pants and lower his briefs. Once he hitches one of my legs around his hip, he shoves his cock into me. I’m already soaked and ready for him.

  In a blur, Davison picks me up, holding my ass in his hands, my back against the wall for stability. His cock pistons me again and again. I open my eyes to look at him. In his tuxedo with his hair tousled, his chin tightly clenched, the muscles on his neck ready to burst from the strain, I know I’ve never wanted him more than at this moment.

  “Don’t stop, Davison. Fuck me hard,” I plead.

  “Oh, baby,” he says breathlessly.

  A few more pumps, and we come together, our breaths reflecting the other. He releases me to the floor. I lean against the door for support as Davison nestles his head into the crook of my neck. I can’t stop smiling, feeling so giddy for doing this so stealthily. I actually feel naughty.

  Before I can say anything, he turns me around roughly, his cock still sheathed inside me, my front pressed up against the door.

  “Davison, we can’t! As much as I want to, we don’t have enough time,” I plead.

  “Like hell we don’t. You didn’t honestly think we were done, did you?” he whispers into my ear, his breath hot on my neck.

  “Silly me,” I murmur, smiling wickedly to myself.

  He reaches around with his right hand to rub my clit, sucking on my throat. Once he finds it, it doesn’t take me long to get wet again.

  “Come on, Harvard. Give it to me good. You know you want to,” I tease him.

  “I’m going to fuck the wiseass right out of you, baby. Get ready,” he warns me.

  I gasp at his first thrust combined with his fingers pressing on my clit. It’s a heady mixture that sends me reeling, desperate for more.

  “That’s it,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”

  “Never will, Venus. Never,” he rasps huskily.

  I extend my arms out against the door, offering my backside to him for easier access.

  It works, because now I’m pushing myself into the wood as both of his hands grab my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. He pumps into me hard, flesh smacking against flesh. The sound of our rough grunts echoes through the room.

  His hard cock fills me completely. My blood is surging through my veins, hot and fast. I’m on the verge of erupting. “Yes…fuck yes,” I pant.

  “I love fucking you,” he growls into my ear. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

  A few more thrusts, and I explode, shouting from the exquisite release. He comes right after me, roaring in ecstasy.

  He collapses against my back as we struggle for breath. “Thank you for making my fantasy come true,” he pants.

  “You’re welcome.” I laugh.

  A knock against the door jolts us. “Sir, it’s almost time for Miss Orsini’s duet,” Ames informs us.

  “Thank you. We’ll be right down,” Davison answers him.

  He turns me around to face him. I can feel my face redden. “God, that’s so embarrassing.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. He’s very discreet.”

  We fix our clothes and head back downstairs. We stop in the living room so I can check my makeup and get a drink of water.

  I need to know something before I join Lucy for the duet.

  “Did you know Ashton was going to be here?”

  “I had a feeling she would be”—he sighs—“but please don’t let that ruin the rest of the night.”

  I smile at him. “No worries. She’s on my turf now. Well, the opera turf anyway.”

  I start to walk to the door when he stops me.

  “Before we go back, I just wanted to say that you…you were incredible,” he tells me, my face in his hands as he stares at me with a look of reverence in his eyes. “I can’t explain…your voice is angelic. I had no idea. I…you…you’re just so beautiful, Allegra.”

  I try to stop the tears that start falling from my eyes, giving him a smile, then a quick peck on his lips. “Thank you for that, but don’t start, Harvard. My mascara isn’t waterproof.”

  * * *

  “And now, ladies and gentlemen, a special treat for you. The ‘Flower Duet’ from the opera Lakmé, as sung by Miss Orsini and Miss Luciana Gibbons,” Mrs. Berkeley announces to the audience in her brief introduction.

  Standing with Lucy at the second microphone that had been set up alongside its twin, I sneak a peek at Davison, who gives me another encouraging wink.

  Derek starts on the piano, and Lucy opens with the first line as Lakmé, the high priest’s daughter. I’m singing the role of Mallika, her servant.

  My first line complete, I connect with Lucy. We are in total sync. It sounds so beautiful, so lyrical…

  Why is Lucy looking at me like that?

  I glance over at Davison, who is now sitting up straight in his chair with his head tilted, alternating between looking at something behind me and then me again.

  When it’s my turn again to sing solo, I notice the entire audience’s focus is not on me, but something over my shoulder.

  Still singing, I finally turn my head to see what’s behind me.

  I’m on the screen where the school’s logo had been.

  Oh, look. There I am with my mother.

  The picture changes. My mom by herself.

  Another slide. A newspaper headline. “Little Italy Mother Murdered. Five-Year-Old Daughter Missing.”

  Wait. That’s…

  “Little Girl Lost. The Search Continues for Mia Rossetti.”

  Me.

  “Little Girl Found. Mia Safe.”

  Oh my God.

  I clamp my hands over my mouth.

  What’s going on?

  Then, The Picture appears. The one a photographer took when the policeman brought me out after finding me hiding in an abandoned basement: the cop carrying me to safety, the blue of his shirt in my tiny fist contrasting against the cocoa brown of my frightened eyes.

  My knees turn into rub
ber. I can’t stop shaking. I start crying, my body starting to shudder from the wracking sobs.

  I don’t look at Davison. I run as fast as I can down the aisle and into the living room.

  I need my things.

  What did I bring?

  Coat. Coat. I need my coat.

  Okay, I’ve got my coat on.

  God, my bag. Where the fuck is my bag?

  Just as I’m about to flee to safety, the door is thrown open.

  Davison flies to me. He grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look in his direction.

  “Allegra, what the fuck was that?”

  “Leave me alone, Davison.”

  “The hell I will! Talk to me! I don’t understand. Was that you? Was that what happened to your mother?”

  Oh God, get me out of here, please, please, please.

  I try to wrestle my body from his grip, but every time I move, he only holds on harder.

  “Damn it, just talk to me,” he insists roughly.

  I look him straight in the face, my voice clipped and monotone. “We’re done. I never want to see you again.”

  With the impact of those words, he finally lets me go and I run out the door.

  I reach the top of the stairs when he wrenches my arm back.

  “Goddamn it, Allegra! Just stop already!”

  I fight him, desperately trying to pull away, shaking him off me. “No!”

  Suddenly, my footing gives way. Before I can do anything, I’m falling…falling…falling.

  I hear Davison’s voice. “ALLEGRA!”

  I put my hand out to grab the banister, but somehow I turn on my belly, my chin scraping against the carpeted stairs. I push my feet down hard, pressing my toes in to bring myself to a stop.

  Everything aches. It hurts. It hurts so much.

  I hear Luciana’s voice screaming, “Oh my God!”

  Davison is at my side alongside her. “Don’t move, baby.”

  “Get away from her!” Lucy yells at him. “Can you move, Allegra?”

  I moan, trying to see if any of my limbs are broken. “I don’t know.”

  Using my elbows, I slowly turn myself onto my back, my body protesting the entire time. I start feeling woozy, hearing loud voices surrounding me in a daze.

  “I don’t think you broke anything. But I’m taking you to the hospital right now,” Davison declares.

  “No way in hell! I’m going with her,” Lucy shouts.

  “Lucy,” I whisper. “Get me out of here. Please.”

  “You heard her, Davison.”

  “I don’t care!” he yells at her.

  The ground disappears from under me as I feel Davison pick me up in his arms.

  My head falls against his broad chest. “No, Davison,” I beg with a whisper. “Let me go.”

  The rumble of his voice vibrates in his chest against my body. “Never.”

  His scent assaults my nose. The spicy, woodsy cologne that I love mixed with his body sweat intoxicates me, as I’m dying inside knowing this will probably be the last time I’ll be able to enjoy this small pleasure that he had always afforded me. I will probably never see him again.

  “Charles! New York Presbyterian! Now!” he shouts.

  I feel myself being carefully slid onto the backseat of the Maybach, with Davison coming in after me, cushioning my head in his lap.

  I shut my eyes, the emotional weight of the past hour finally taking its toll on me as I start to sob again.

  Davison’s hand starts to stroke my hair, then wipes my tears away with his thumb.

  “Please don’t cry, baby. Everything’s going to be okay,” he says softly.

  I turn my head away from him, hopefully to deter him from touching me. But he continues to caress me as I shut my eyes, cringing from his touch, knowing that I have to start detaching myself from him now because it’s over.

  I can hear a female voice in the front seat. Lucy’s.

  “Mr. Orsini, it’s Luciana. Something’s happened to Allegra…I’m taking her to New York Presbyterian now…and…someone exposed her past tonight…everyone knows…I don’t know…yes, I’ll be with her…we’re almost there…okay…okay.”

  The car stops. Then the ground goes away again. Hands are lifting me like Papa used to do when I was little. I look up and see Davison’s face, his eyes determined, his jaw locked.

  “I’ve got you, baby.”

  We’re going inside a building. Lucy and Davison are talking loudly. Everyone is shouting. He gently puts me down on a gurney, and I’m whisked away.

  I’m looking outside myself, the doctor poking me, checking to make sure I haven’t broken any bones. But all I can think about is Davison’s face, the shock in his eyes when I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.

  The doctor examining me is of medium height, older, with curly brown hair. “Allegra, I’m Dr. Jonathan Berg. I’m going to send you upstairs for an X-ray and an MRI to make sure there’s no serious damage anywhere. They’re a bit backed up, so you might have to wait awhile.”

  I look into the man’s deep blue eyes through his glasses. He’s old enough to be someone’s father. I nod my consent.

  Lucy appears at my side, handing me a tissue.

  “Where did Davison go?” I ask her nervously.

  “Who the fuck cares,” she spits out. “Probably to push his weight around with the staff.”

  I hear my father’s voice. He’s right next to me now, kissing me on the forehead. “Cara mia, are you okay? Who did this to you?”

  I start to cry softly. “I don’t know. And they showed the pictures. Everyone saw me, Papa. Davison knows. Oh God, his mother. I humiliated them. They must hate me so much now. The scandal I brought to their house. It’s all my fault.”

  “You didn’t get a chance to tell him, did you?” Lucy asks.

  I shake my head.

  “And you were planning to, right?”

  I nod.

  “Don’t worry, Alli. I’m here.”

  My father reaches his arms over and holds me tight. “Ti amo, cara. Don’t worry. Your papa is here now.”

  “Someone did this to you on purpose,” Lucy says, anger raging in her voice. “We’ll find out who it was and make sure they regret it.”

  Suddenly, the hooks on the curtain rod screech against metal as the curtain is yanked back. It reveals Davison with his white tuxedo shirt undone, his tie missing, his eyes sunken, his face pale.

  “Allegra,” he whispers. “Please don’t turn me away. I need to talk to you.”

  “Not now, Mr. Berkeley,” my father protests. “My daughter needs rest.”

  “Davison,” Lucy says firmly, “this is not the time.”

  Suddenly, he becomes enraged. “I’m not leaving, Luciana!”

  “Basta!” my father shouts. “That’s enough, Mr. Berkeley. Please go.”

  Davison’s eyes shift to me, pleading with his face. “Allegra, the pictures. What happened…the newspapers…I…I want to understand.”

  I turn my eyes away from him. “I don’t want to see you.”

  I hear him inhale from shock. “Don’t do this, baby,” he begs. “Please.”

  “You need to go, Davison,” I manage, barely above a whisper.

  My father steps closer to him. “You heard my daughter, sir.”

  I hear the curtain rustle. When I look over, Davison is gone. Probably for good.

  Papa and Lucy are staring at me with faces of anger mixed with pity and sadness. I can’t stand it anymore.

  “I’m going to close my eyes for a bit. I’m really tired. Would you mind?”

  They nod, with Papa leaning over to kiss me on the head. “We’ll wait outside, cara.”

  * * *

  I’m dreaming. I don’t see anything, but I hear Davison’s voice.

  “Allegra, can you hear me? It’s Davison. Or Harvard, as you call me in that sweet voice of yours. I’m here. Do you know what I thought the first second I saw you? I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever se
en in my life. And when you showed up at my office, I’d never wanted a woman more in my life. I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you now. You mean everything to me, baby.”

  The voice drifts away.

  It feels so real to me. The pressure on my hand, someone’s lips softly kissing mine.

  And I sleep.

  * * *

  “Miss Orsini? I’m here to take you for your tests.” A young orderly is standing over me with a sheet of paper in his hand.

  I rub my eyes. I feel so out of it. “How long have I been out?”

  “For about an hour,” I hear my father’s voice announce. “I made Lucy go home. But she said she’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Davison. No, he couldn’t have…

  “Okay,” I sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The orderly unlocks the wheels on my gurney and whisks me away.

  * * *

  Finally, I’m back in the ER. Dr. Berg has given me the all clear, and I’m waiting to be released, lying on the gurney.

  “Papa?”

  “Sì?”

  “Did anyone come to see me while I was asleep?”

  “I don’t think so. Lucy went home, and I only walked away for a minute when I had to fill out more paperwork.”

  “Oh, I thought…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, it was just a dream.”

  It was. Just a dream. It had to be.

  “Let’s go home, Papa.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’m still sore the next morning, my muscles aching. My mouth hurts when I move it, thanks to the bruise on my chin. I glance over at the clock, which reads eleven fifteen a.m. I need to call the restaurant to let them get a temp for tonight.

  My stomach growls just at the moment Papa walks in with a steaming cappuccino and a fresh cannoli.

  “Buongiorno, cara. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I fell down a flight of stairs.” I grimace.

  “That’s not funny, Allegra,” my father admonishes me. “You need to eat.”

  “Grazie, Papa. It’s exactly what I want,” I thank him, taking a gentle sip of my coffee, inhaling its robust scent.

  The doorbell rings just when Papa hands me the cannoli.

  “I’ll be right back,” he says, going out to see who’s at our door.

  I bite into the cannoli just as Luciana appears in the doorway, and with Tomas of all people.