Guilt compelled me to keep my distance from Natalie. A guilt I didn’t like. A guilt I feared was soon going to swallow me whole.

After that meeting with my father, after knowing I’d have to attend another of those depraved parties without her, I’d figured for both our sakes it was safer if I went on doing what I’d done since I’d awoken and found she’d left my bed: keep my distance, not reveal more shit that was going to cause her extra stress, hopefully save her some pain and fucking heartache.

Only, keeping my distance wasn’t helping matters. In fact, at the moment, keeping my distance was doing nothing but making things worse.

I drained the last of my wine and glanced at Natalie’s tense shoulders in the sleeveless red blouse as she sat beside me under the string of white lights at Marco and Fee’s patio table. She hadn’t spoken more than a few curt words to me since we’d left the cottage and come up here for dinner. She’d altogether avoided me after I’d gone to take a shower and was doing everything she could right now not to even look at me. Considering the pressure I was under, I should be happy she was giving me as much space as I was giving her, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t because I knew she was pissed and because knowing she was so fired up only made me want her that much more.

Every muscle in my body was hot and tight and in need of release, and being forced to sit this close to Natalie while her intoxicating scent of grapefruit and honey swirled around me only amped that need to the thousandth degree. All I could think about was dragging her into the closest bathroom, hiking that flouncy black skirt up to her hips, and fucking her hard and fast against the counter until this craving inside me died down to something I could control.

Fee set a platter of pasta in the middle of the candlelit table on the patio and smiled. “That’s the last of it.”

“Smells wonderful, vita mia.” Marco pushed to his feet and reached for the wine bottle.

“Thank you, my paramour.” Fee flashed a quick grin at Marco, then sat beside him and looked at me. “So your father didn’t fess up to anything, I hear, Luc.”

A knot formed in my gut as I swept up my refilled glass and took a deep drink, hating that the question had been posed in front of Natalie, trying not to look at her from the corner of my eye at the same time. The Romano red was sweeter than my father’s wine but I didn’t care. Tonight, it was the one indulgence I was allowed, and I didn’t care if I got shit-faced drunk. In fact, I was counting on that happening so I could keep my hands off the woman at my side.

“No.” I swallowed, trying to act calm and casual when I was literally on fucking fire. “Not really a surprise, though.”

I couldn’t stop myself from noticing Natalie’s reaction. Even in the dim lights interwoven through the wisteria and pergola above, I could see the way her jawline tightened at my words, telling me loud and clear keeping my distance was my latest master fuckup. And, dammit, who could blame her? This conversation was quickly making it sound as if I was hiding things from her, which, technically, I was, but...

Shiiiiit.

I swallowed another mouthful of wine.

“Marco said Dante was in pretty bad shape.” Fee spooned pasta onto her plate.

Natalie’s back stiffened. For a second, as Fee passed her the bowl of fettuccini and she reached for it, her silky dark hair swaying over her slim shoulder, I thought I saw smoke rise from her ear.

Holy hell, we needed to get the subject off my damn family before I had a massive coronary. “No, he wasn’t,” I managed, watching as Natalie took a small helping of pasta and shoved the bowl my way without even looking at me. “We patched him up, though.”

“In a day or two, he’ll be back to his normal sarcastic self.” Marco grinned across from me as he moved a slice of porchetta from the platter to his plate, then handed the serving tray to Fee with a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t worry, vita mia.”

Natalie reached for her wine and downed a large sip, quickly averting her eyes as Fee turned and kissed Marco on the lips and the two exchanged whispered words.

My discomfort ramped up even more. I’d never been bothered by Marco and Fee’s familiar displays of affection, but tonight, every time Fee casually ran her fingers over Marco’s arm or Marco nonchalantly skimmed his lips against Fee’s temple, I felt a jolt in my own skin. Not from them but from remembering what it felt like when Natalie had touched me like that back before our relationship had turned to pure shit.

I downed half of my wine, hoping it would settle this craving inside me. It didn’t. And at my side, I could tell Natalie was just as uncomfortable as me, but for very different reasons. Thankfully, Marco took pity on me and steered the conversation away from Dante and our meeting with my father earlier in the day and drew Natalie into a conversation about the wine and her walk through the property while we’d been gone.

Natalie answered where appropriate, but I could tell from her tone she was itching to get out of this dinner as quickly as humanely possible. And bloody hell, I wanted that too, but I was dreading taking her back to the cottage because I didn’t have a fucking clue what I’d do with her when we got there. Or how the hell I was going to keep my hands off her once we were alone.

“Okay, let me see that ring,” Fee said later in the evening when the conversation waned, reaching across the table for Natalie’s hand. “It’s been blinding me all night.”

Natalie’s shoulders tensed, but she lifted her hand from her lap and stretched her arm across the table so Fee could take a closer look.

“Wow.” Fee turned Natalie’s hand right and left so the band caught the light just right, shimmering in the warm evening air. “That’s some ring.”

Natalie shrugged. “I suppose. I’m not all that wild about butterflies.”

“Why not? They’re one of the most amazing creatures on the planet.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Natalie glanced my way with cold and very unfriendly eyes. “I guess I’m just not a fan of what butterflies represent.”

Fuck. Me.

“You’re not a fan of hope? Of strength? Of resilience?”

When Natalie shifted her gaze Fee’s way, Fee said, “The butterfly is revered in almost every culture. In early Christianity, it was a symbol of the soul. In China, the butterfly represents joy and bliss. In Native American cultures, it’s considered a miracle of resurrection. And all over the world, the butterfly is a figure of power, not only because of its ability to transform and adapt, but because it’s a metaphor for the never-ending cycle of life.” She looked down at Natalie’s ring, turning it once more. “The butterfly’s a pretty damn amazing symbol, if you ask me.”

Natalie didn’t respond. Just looked down at the ring with an unreadable expression. And in the silence, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what she was thinking. Or keep from hoping like hell she’d actually heard what Fee had just told her.

Fee glanced my way. “Harry Winston?”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to, though. I saw the way just the question made Natalie’s back stiffen.

Fee’s gaze drifted back to the ring. “I’m going to guess at least nine carats. Probably ten or eleven. And definitely custom.”

Natalie still didn’t look my way. But to Fee, she said, “How do you know so much about diamonds?”

Fee grinned. “Personal hobby.”

With his arm slung over the back of Fee’s chair, Marco huffed and reached for his wine. “Personal obsession, more like.”

Fee slanted him a look. “Someday, I’m going to have the most gaudy, expensive diamond on the planet.”

Marco leaned close and kissed her cheek again, and watching made me wish like hell I could kiss Natalie like that. On her cheek, on her neck, on every inch of her fucking luscious body. Since it was pretty clear I was getting the cold shoulder tonight, I downed the rest of my wine instead.

“I’d buy it for you now if you’d let me, vita mia.”

Fee playfully leaned away from Marco’s lips and shook her head, still smiling. “Not now, paramour.” With a conspiratorial glance my way, she added, “But hopefully soon.”

I frowned, knowing just what the hell Fee was insinuating. Just as I knew what she wanted me to do was the very last thing I was even close to ready for.

Fee was unfazed by my reaction. She went back to studying Natalie’s ring, not the least bit intimidated by me—dammit. “The wide band is an interesting choice. Most women don’t wear bands quite so big. Makes a more dramatic statement than a solitaire, though. You did good, Luc.”

The praise was lost on me. The only person I’d wanted to impress with the ring hadn’t said a damn thing about it until now. And considering that now I knew she pretty much hated it, I wished she hadn’t said a word.

Natalie swiped up her wine as soon as Fee let go of her hand. “He had to go with a wide band to cover the slave marking he tattooed on my finger.”

I nearly dropped my glass. Wide-eyed, I glanced toward my wife, tossing back the rest of her wine as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb right in the middle of dinner.

Fee—equally as shocked by the comment, but for very different reasons—stared at Natalie several moments without blinking. Beside her, Marco’s mouth fell open, but he covered the reaction quickly by fumbling with his own wine and downing what was left in his glass.

A heartbeat later, Felicity burst out laughing. “You almost had me there. That was a good one.”

“Yeah, I’m hilarious like that.” Slapping her glass on the table, Natalie reached for the empty pitcher between us and rose. “I need more water.”

Sonofabitch. Forget the cold shoulder. I was on her permanent shit list, and she had no qualms about letting everyone know.

Marco’s shoulders relaxed as Fee continued to laugh. But I didn’t miss the worried glance he shot my way. I hadn’t given him any specifics about my relationship with Natalie, but I could tell he was quickly cueing in to the fact something wasn’t right.

Still smiling, Fee called, “Use the filtered water in the fridge.” As Natalie disappeared into the villa, Fee looked at me. “Where on earth did you find her, Luc? She’s a spitfire. Makes me look tame in comparison.”

My jaw tightened. Natalie wasn’t a spitfire. She was a hurricane. And I was so caught up in her storm, lately I didn’t know if I was coming or going.

One thing I did know, though, was that she was going to give us away if we weren’t careful. “I didn’t find her. She came looking for me.”

It wasn’t a lie. Just as I knew Natalie was likely regretting the fact she’d come to me at the Covet offices all those weeks ago.

I pushed back from the table. “Think I’ve had enough wine. I’m gonna make some coffee. Anyone else?”

Fee shook her head. “None for me, thanks.”

Marco lifted a finger. “I’ll take one.”

I nodded and moved into the house. Natalie was in the kitchen when I entered, standing at the island, pouring filtered water into the glass pitcher that had been on the table.

My heartbeat kicked up as I passed behind her and flipped on the coffee pot. She tensed but didn’t speak to me or acknowledge my presence, and while that pissed me off and amped me up at the same time, I let her ignore me until after she’d replaced the water filter in the fridge and stepped back to the island to grab the pitcher.

I moved in close behind her and placed my hands on the counter on each side of her body before she could escape, trapping her between the island and my chest. She froze, her hands on the cut-glass pitcher on the counter, but still didn’t speak. And in the silence, as that intoxicating scent of hers filled my senses, I tried not to be aroused by the fact she was flat-out challenging me with her silence just as she had when we’d been in Rome.

Only I failed miserably.

It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to press my hot, very aroused body against the seductive curve of her backside, but somehow, I managed to keep a little bit of distance between us when I whispered, “What do you think you’re doing?”

She didn’t respond, and for a moment, I didn’t think she was going to. Then she slowly released the pitcher and turned to face me, careful not to graze my arms or my chest, yet pinning me with clear blue eyes as hard as ice chips. “I don’t know, Luc. What do you think I’m doing?”

Holy fuck, she was challenging me. “I think you’re pissed, and you’re making it known.”

“Your power of deduction is staggering.”

She moved to duck under my arm, but I captured her around the waist and spun her around, pulling her back up against my chest.

“Let me go,” she growled, closing both hands over my forearm at her waist as she struggled.

I knew I should, but I needed to get this point across to her. And, dammit, I was tired of being the bad guy.

“This isn’t a game,” I whispered in her hair, loving and hating the way her sweet little ass shifted against my groin. “I told you before there are eyes and ears in this villa. Stop fucking around before you get someone killed.”

“Someone like you?” she snapped, still struggling.

“No.” I tightened my hold. “Someone like Marco and Fee. They’re doing us a favor by letting us stay here. Do you want someone from my House descending on them as soon as they step off the property? Because that’s what will happen. They’ll go after them to get info on us if you don’t knock this shit off. Be pissed at me all you want in private, but stop drawing attention when we’re out of the cottage. It’s the least you can do for these people who put their lives on the line to help us.”

She stilled against me. But she didn’t spout off again. And she didn’t fight me any more either. And though I knew she wasn’t giving in because she liked being pressed up against me, I couldn’t keep from closing my eyes and drawing in a deep whiff of her scent at the same time.

Bloody hell, she was soft in all the places I was hard, and the curve of her body fit against mine as if she were made for me. I wanted her with a blistering need that was making me insane, and she didn’t even care. Everything I was doing was for her, and yet to her, I was just fucking things up worse by the second.

I didn’t have a clue how to fix any of the mess between us. I didn’t know if I should even try anymore. At the moment, I only knew that this was the closest I’d been to her in days, and God, it felt good.

“Fine. Okay,” she hissed. “I get it. You can let me go now.”

Guilt rushed in—more guilt to pile on top of the shitheap I was already trying to dig myself out of—replacing my anger. I released her long before I was ready and moved back a half step. For a heartbeat, she didn’t move, then the sound of a door closing echoed somewhere in the villa, and she glanced to the left with wide eyes.

Not Fee or Marco. They were still outside on the loggia. Had to be the housekeeper. Someone who could have been eavesdropping on our conversation, exactly as I’d said.

Fuck me, I hope it isn’t someone eavesdropping...

With shaky hands, Natalie reached for the pitcher from the counter and turned to face me. Her eyes were still icy-blue shards of glass, but she leaned close and very lightly brushed her lips against my cheek in a way that both surprised and shocked me.

“Oh, Luc,” she said with a chuckle loud enough for whoever was in the other room to hear. “You’re such a tease.” Then loud enough so only I could hear, she whispered, “I know it’s not a game. Just as I know this marriage is nothing but a sham. If the fact you don’t tell me shit about what’s going on isn’t proof of that, then the slave brand on my finger definitely is.”

She turned away from me, and this time, I didn’t try to stop her. That hole inside me reopened, sucking up my voice as I watched her walk away.

We were right back where we’d started. The only difference was, I knew now without a doubt that it wasn’t my House or my father or even my fucking family that was going to destroy me. It was this woman.

This fiery, passionate, challenging woman I’d deceived—who I was still deceiving because I was desperate to protect her—was going to be my undoing.

And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it from happening.

We faked our way through the rest of the evening.

Thankfully, the rest of the evening was just coffee and desserts, and as soon as Natalie’s mug was empty, I’d been able to feign exhaustion and get us the hell out of there without any other incident.

We didn’t speak on the walk back down to the cottage. I didn’t try to apologize for shutting her out earlier—what was the point when she clearly didn’t want to listen to me?—and she didn’t lay into me over our confrontation in Marco and Fee’s kitchen. When she stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door in her wake, I let her go without a word, telling myself instead of trying to fix things, it was time to just let them be.

Darkness surrounded me as I reclined on the sofa hours later, wishing like hell I could fall asleep. My mind was filled with too many thoughts and images to turn off, though. And I couldn’t stop picturing Natalie in that big bed in the other room, wondering like hell if she was awake or asleep, trying not to think about those nights we’d spent together in Rome and Venice.

Had that been only a few short weeks ago? It felt like a lifetime. We’d spent more time at war with each other since then than we had in each other’s arms. Maybe what we’d shared hadn’t been all that meaningful. Could you really fall in love with someone in such a short amount of time?

The creak of door hinges sounded in the silence, stopping my spinning brain. I held still—hands tucked behind my head on the pillow, one leg stretched out on the cushions, the other bent with my knee resting against the back of the couch—curious as to why Natalie was up, not wanting to do anything to set her off and restart World War Three.

Footsteps echoed on the tile floor, then quieted when she reached the carpet. I still didn’t move, but instead of passing me by for the kitchen as I expected, she slowed near the couch and stilled at my side.

Her curly hair fell down her shoulders. She was dressed in thin cotton sleep shorts and a ribbed tank that molded to her curves and showed off her pert nipples and rounded breasts. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, but I could hear the steady push and pull of her breath. And I could smell her—that exotic and hypnotizing scent of grapefruit and honey I would always associate with her and which had the power to scramble what was left of my brain.

Silence stretched over the room, the only sound my thumping pulse growing louder in my ears. My eyes were open. She had to know I was awake. Since I hadn’t wanted to bother her, I hadn’t changed clothes. I’d only stripped and stretched out on the couch in my boxers. I didn’t even have a blanket—not that I needed one. I was still fired up from our argument earlier...and growing hotter by the second as she stared down at me in the dark.

Blood gathered in my groin with every second that passed. I could feel myself growing hard even though I willed my dick not to respond. Knew in a second she was going to see it for herself. Knew also that when she did, it would do nothing to help our current dilemma. Swallowing hard, I tried to think of something to say before that happened. For a way to distract her so I could figure out why she was out here in the dead of night. Hell, at this point, I’d even settle for her lashing out at me if it would prevent me from fucking up all over ag—

She moved before I realized what she was doing. One second, she was standing beside me, intimidating the fuck out of me with her silence in the dark. The next, she was on top of me, straddling my waist, the insides of her knees pressing against my hipbones, her hands closing around my wrists on both sides of my head, her lithe body pushing mine deeper into the couch cushions, and her—holy fuck—tempting breasts mere inches from my mouth.

My pulse jackknifed, and I lost any ability to control my arousal. My dick turned to a rod of steel, one I knew she was going to feel if she moved back at all, so I held perfectly still, trying not to draw attention to what she was doing to me.

And, damn, how pathetic was I that I actually liked this—liked her climbing over me and pinning me down, even if it was highly likely she was only here to kick my sorry ass for ruining her life.

She bent toward me. I still couldn’t see her eyes, had no idea what she was doing, then—fuck me—I felt her lips the second they made contact with my throat. Felt her kiss me, once...twice... Felt her fingers tighten around my wrists. And nearly fucking came right there in my shorts when her tongue sneaked out and licked my hypersensitive skin.

All the reasons I’d convinced myself I needed to stay away from her shattered against that couch, right along with my willpower. I easily pulled my wrists from her grip, grasped her face in both of my hands, and pushed up to sitting, forcing her back so her weight dropped onto my lap and my aching cock pressed against the soft heat between her legs.

She reached for my hands and tried to pull them away from her face, but I didn’t let her. I held her still as I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against hers, desperate to taste her and take her and make her mine again.

She jerked back from my lips. For a split second, I caught sight of her eyes, more gray than blue because of the dim light, but hard, determined, and blazing with a fire that was unlike any I’d seen in her before.

Her hands landed on my bare shoulders, and she dug her fingertips into my flesh as she dipped her head and licked one side of my neck with her tantalizing tongue. My eyes slid closed at the wicked sensation, and a groan built in my throat. I still didn’t know why she was here, why she was doing this, but I didn’t fucking care. It felt so damn good. She felt so good. My hands drifted to her hips as she continued to tease and torture me with the soft brush of her lips. Then she sank her teeth into my skin and bit down, and pain shot across my spine. What was left of my gray matter short-circuited, and the only thought I had was to get her naked and under me fast so I could bury myself deep inside her before she changed her mind.

I wrapped my arms around her waist. Rocked my aching cock up against her tempting heat. She sucked a spot on my throat again, distracting me from my goal, and scraped her teeth along my flesh until I shivered. I groaned, angled my head toward hers, desperate to taste her, to kiss her, but she moved out of my reach and twisted around before I could capture her mouth, then pressed her lips to the other side of my neck.

Bloody hell, she was making me hotter with every second. My brain fogged. All I wanted was more. I kissed her cheek, her jaw, her ear, whatever I could reach. Tried to find her mouth, but she angled away from my lips. Her wicked teeth nipped at my flesh, then she licked and kissed the salty skin behind my ear until I was seconds away from melting.

The sensations she was building inside me felt fucking amazing. But something in the back of my head whispered this wasn’t right. Yes, she’d come to me. Yes, she was driving me wild with her mouth. Yes, she was thrusting her sweet little pussy against my cock, exactly as I’d dreamt of her doing for days—no, weeks. But she wasn’t kissing my lips. She wasn’t letting me taste her the way I craved. She wasn’t looking me in the eye as we reconnected.

A chill spread through the center of my chest, one that cleared the sexual haze from my brain even if it didn’t do a thing to smother my arousal. I twisted my head to kiss her again, to see if I was right, but she moved away from my lips once more, then grasped my head to hold me still and sucked my earlobe between her lips while she ground against my cock.

Holy hell. She wasn’t out here trying to fix things between us. She was here because she wanted a fast, hard fuck, and she’d assumed I’d be up for it. I could be anyone right now, and it probably wouldn’t stop her.

Screw. That.

A fervor built inside me, one fueled by desire and obsession and a raging need to prove her wrong. I swung my legs off the couch, tightened my arms around her waist, and pushed to my feet. She groaned and held on to my shoulders, continuing to lick and nibble at my throat as I carried her into the bedroom. Against my chest, her heart raced with what I assumed was victory, but I wasn’t about to let her win. Not this time. Not when my entire existence hinged on what happened between us.

I knelt on the bed and dropped her on the mattress in front of me. Moonlight slanted through the windows, highlighting the flush to her cheeks and the lust darkening her eyes. My body reacted on instinct, warming and throbbing in all the right places. Seeing my reaction, she quickly reached for the hem of her tank and yanked it over her head, then tossed it aside. Her perfect breasts came into view, plump and already pebbled and begging for my mouth. But before she could tempt me with them, I captured her wrists, shoved her flat to the mattress, and pinned her arms above her head.

She gasped as my chest pressed into hers. Her hard little nipples abraded my pecs, distracting me, but I fought to stay focused, straddled her hips, and locked her lower body between my legs. With both arms up, one on each side of her head, she couldn’t twist her mouth away from me. And I saw the moment that fact dawned on her when her eyes widened, when her body tensed, when a panicked look surrounded her pretty blue irises.

“Vieni qui e baciami.” I lowered my mouth to hers and pressed a bruising kiss to her lips. She struggled beneath me, twisting between my legs and wrestling her hands in my grip. But she didn’t open the way I wanted, and all her struggling did was make her nipples harder and bring my cock in closer contact with her pussy.

I kissed her again, aching to push her lips apart and taste her. She bucked against me, though, shifting her face as far to the right as she could to get away from my mouth. My lips passed over the corner of hers. She answered by slamming her eyes shut and struggled harder, turning her head a fraction of an inch farther away so her face was nearly hidden in her arm.

This was not what I wanted. I drew back just enough so she could breathe and lifted my weight off her hips. But instead of pushing me off her as I half expected, she immediately wrapped her legs around my waist and rocked up against my erection. Then she lifted her head and nipped at my throat, telling me she was still horny as hell and begging to be fucked.

That fervor roared through me again, this time with the force of a hurricane. I pushed her back down to the mattress, grasped her wrists in one hand, and used the other to turn her face toward mine.

“Look at me, angioletto,” I whispered, my lips a breath from hers. “Tell me you need me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

She wiggled beneath my hold and angled her hips up against my swollen erection. But she was careful to keep her eyes from meeting mine. “I don’t need you. I just want you to fuck me. There’s a difference. It’s the same damn thing you want from me.”

That wasn’t what I wanted. I needed so much more. I needed the parts of her that were completely untouched. The parts she’d never opened to anyone else. The parts I’d only seen glimpses of when we’d been together in Italy. The parts that had called out to me like a singing siren, embracing my darkness in a way no one else ever could. And I knew deep down, she needed the same damn things from me.

“You need me,” I whispered, pressing my lips to the corner of her mouth, holding her still so she couldn’t turn away from my kiss. “My touch. My words. My darkness. Admit it, angioletto.” I kissed the other side of her lips, loving the way she trembled beneath me even as she fought against my hold. “You need me because I’m the only one who can take you to the edge of your comfort zone. To that place where you can let go of all your inhibitions. Where you’re free to be wild and dirty. Where we both know you ache to submit to every one of my desires.”

She huffed. “N-no.” But already I could tell her resistance was wavering. “I don’t need any of that. I just want sex.”

“You lie.” I brushed my lips over hers again, teasing the softness of her mouth with the tip of my tongue. “You were made to be tasted, to be enjoyed, to be pleasured by me, angioletto. Only by me.” I kissed her lightly again. “I know it.” I rocked my aching cock against her. “You know it too. You’re just too scared to admit it.”

Her mouth opened on a groan, and I swept my tongue between her lips, kissing her deeply. And with one taste, I knew all this time I’d been starving without her. A famished traveler wandering in the wild. She was the light guiding me home. She was the fire that illuminated my soul. She was the strength I’d been drained of and desperately needed to keep me going.

I let go of her face and swept my free hand down her side to cup and mold her gorgeous bare breast. And as I kissed her deeper, I felt her body softening, felt her warming to my touch, felt her walls coming down and the internal war she waged between want and need and pleasure and pain slowing its crazy fight.

I felt her giving in to what we both knew only I could give her.

“Dammit, Luc,” she murmured against my lips. “I hate you. I fucking hate you for this.”

My heart seized. I let go of her wrists and gripped her face in my hands, desperate for her to feel what was inside me. Every emotion I’d been holding back because I thought showing her would only make things worse. “No, you don’t. You’re lost without me. E il mio cuore batte solo per te.”

This time when I kissed her, she opened at the first touch. I didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was feeling, but when she opened to me like that, when she grabbed hold and pulled me deep into a searing kiss that made my toes curl, I lost all ability to think or see or do anything but fall even deeper in love with her.

Her hands streaked into my hair and fisted. Her legs wrapped around my waist as she rocked up against me. Her mouth turned greedy, wild, frantic beneath mine, and in her kiss, I knew these last few weeks, the plans I’d made, none of it mattered if I didn’t have her by my side.

“Tu sei mia, angioletto.” I tipped her face up and kissed her deeper. “Ho bisogno di te.”

She groaned beneath my lips and dropped her hands from my hair to my shoulders, then slid them down my waist to grip my boxers. “Take these off. Hurry.”

I jerked back from her mouth, frantic to feel every inch of her naked skin against mine. She gasped as cool air washed over her, but the second I pushed back to my knees and dropped my feet to the floor at the side of the bed, she sat up and reached for the waistband of her sleep shorts, hustling to strip them down her sexy legs.

My pulse roared in my ears as I pushed my boxers down my legs. Her naked body filled my vision. Moonlight glinted off her plump breasts and straining nipples, making my mouth water. She kicked the shorts free, drawing my gaze to the small thatch of dark hair at the apex of her legs and the wetness already gathering at her slit. I wanted to memorize every dip of skin and play of bone on her x-rated body, but I ached to bury myself inside that sweet, tight, slick place even more. And right now, the need to mark her there, to fuck her and brand her as mine was so strong, so primal, it overwhelmed every other want and need and rational thought.

In thirty-two years, I’d never been tempted to fuck without a condom. Safe sex had been stamped into my psyche from the moment I’d become sexually active, primarily because the kittens my House used—though tested regularly—were so casually passed around. But even after I’d left that depraved scene behind, I’d been careful. Only with Natalie I didn’t want to be careful anymore. I wanted to feel every ridge and muscle inside her slick pussy. I wanted to fuck her with my bare cock and pump my hot cum deep into her body. And then I wanted my seed leaking out of her every time she moved, reminding her I’d been there. That she was mine. That she’d always only ever be mine.

“Don’t just stand there gawking.” Natalie scooted to the side of the bed and reached for me. “Come here.” Her hands moved around my waist. Before I realized what she was doing, her lips pressed against my belly button where I stood next to the bed, “I need your cock.”

Holy fuck. I groaned and rocked toward her, unable to hold back as she dropped her hand to my ass and wrapped the other around the base of my throbbing erection. My fingers slipped into her hair as my cock brushed her plump breast, leaving a trail of fluid over her creamy skin. My balls drew up tight as I watched, unable to look away. Sliding her hand up, she squeezed the head until I groaned, then smoothed the pre-cum down my shaft.

“Does that feel good?”

She pulled me closer so my dick slipped into her cleavage. I groaned at the silky feel. Releasing her hold on my shaft, she pressed her breasts together, surrounding my cock with the heat of her luscious globes.

“How about this?” She rocked slightly back, then toward me, just enough so she could stroke my aching length. “Do you want to fuck me like this?”

Holy hell, did I. I was on fire. Barely able to stand upright. My hips pressed forward. I gripped the back of her head, more to hold myself steady than to keep her still. Her breasts were soft and warm and felt so fucking good, I couldn’t help doing it again. She groaned, which only lit me up more, then dropped her chin and extended her tongue, just barely grazing the tip of my cock when it appeared between her cleavage.

“Cazzo.” My eyes slid closed. I widened my stance, thrusting harder, loving every inch of her flesh wrapped around my throbbing erection and the way her wicked tongue drove me crazy.

“Mm, yes,” she whispered, squeezing her breasts tighter around me on the down stroke. “You like that. You’re getting harder. Fuck my breasts just like that. I want you rock solid when you slam this monster inside me.”

I wasn’t going to last if she kept talking like that. If she continued to squeeze my dick so tightly. Holding her face to my belly, I thrust again and again, thundering toward a climax I was frantic to reach. But just before it claimed me, she released her breasts, tugged her head from my hand, and wrapped her silky fingers around my shaft.

She stroked me once, base to tip, until I groaned. A tearing sound echoed through the room. I looked down, wondering what she was doing, then felt her soft fingers rolling a condom down my length.

“There,” she said, releasing me. Twisting around so she was braced on her hands and knees on the bed in front of me, she shot a coy look over her shoulder. “Now fuck me already. Right now. Fuck me hard.”

I swayed, hypnotized by the power she held over me and desperate to give her exactly what she was begging for. But as I moved closer to the bed and reached for her hips, something in my brain kicked into gear, making this whole seduction scene feel...wrong.

Yes, she’d kissed me, but only to get me to release her so I couldn’t take control and kiss her again. She was still avoiding looking me in the eye. She was still avoiding the intimacy I hungered for. She was seducing me into that hard, fast fuck she’d come for, and I was falling right into her trap.

That fervor inside me was consumed by a firestorm of passion and anger and a frenzied determination to prove to her she was wrong. She was wrong about everything.

I grasped her by the waist and tossed her to her back. She hit the mattress and bounced, gasping in the darkness. Hooking my arms under her thighs, I jerked her toward me. She grunted and pushed up to her hands, but I lowered one knee to the edge of the bed, and before she could try to take control again, I positioned my cock at her entrance and thrust hard inside her.

Whatever fight had been in her completely disintegrated. She groaned at the tight fit and dropped back on the mattress, arching her hips to take me deeper. Her hot, slick channel contracted around me, holding me tight, but I drew my hips back, sliding along her sensitive walls until I was almost free, then gripped her legs to my chest and slammed deep all over again.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” she moaned. “More.”

I did it again, watching the pleasure darken her features as I drew nearly all the way out of her slick pussy before ramming home once more. “Like that?”

She groaned and nodded vigorously.

I fucked into her harder, faster, almost violently, both hating and loving that she was begging for this. “You like getting fucked like this?”

“Oh my God.” She fisted the comforter until her knuckles turned white. “Yes, yes. Don’t stop. Just like that. Fuck me harder.”

I planned to. I had no intention of stopping. But not like this.

With a growl, I released her legs. She gasped, and her eyes shot open. Shoving her thighs wide, I lowered my body to hers until we were connected from chest to hips and I was buried so deep inside her, I was reaching places I knew I’d never reached before.

I grasped her face as I held still inside her, preventing that hot fast friction she wanted. “Look at me. You need me. Say it.”

Her hands landed against my shoulders, and she lifted her hips, rocking up, trying to get me to move faster, to distract me with the heat of her pussy. “Let go of my face.”

“Not a chance.” I drew back gradually and slid in deep just as slow, striking her G-spot at the perfect angle. “Tell me you need me. Say it, Natalie.”

She slammed her eyes shut. “No.”

“Yes.” I did it again. It was torture for both of us, but I was unwilling to let this go. I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t force her to kiss me. But I didn’t let her turn away either. I held her tight beneath me, making achingly slow love to her, desperate for that connection I knew still burned hot between us. “Say it. Say you need me, not just my cock.”

Her fingernails dug into my shoulders, sending pain across my spine. She struggled beneath me, frantic for the climax only I could give her.

“Say it, angioletto.” My muscles contracted. Sweat slicked my skin as I continued to torment that perfect spot slowly and deeply so far inside. “Say you need me as much as I need you. I know you do. I know you’re crazy for me. Give in and tell me. Tell me you only want me.”

“Oh fuck, Luc.” She arched her back. “Please. Faster.”

My lips slid to her jaw, and I bit down, just enough to cause a jolt of sensation to permeate her mind. “Say it, angioletto. Say you can’t live without me.”

“Ah, God, I can’t. I...”

“Yes, you can.” I kissed the pulse at her throat, her jaw, the corner of her luscious mouth. “Say you can’t live without me the way I can’t live without you.”

“Dammit.” Her fingernails curled into my sides. “I do need you. I only need you. Please stop torturing me and—”

My willpower shattered. I closed my mouth over hers and kissed her, and she opened at the first contact, drawing me into a scorching kiss that detonated in my veins. I drew back and shoved in deep, unable to hold back any longer, giving us both exactly what she’d begged for, fucking her hard and fast as she devoured my mouth and heart and soul.

“Oh yes, Luc. There. Right theeeeeere...”

I only managed a handful of thrusts before she threw her head back and screamed. And I was glad, because my orgasm was already streaking down my spine and exploding in my balls, triggered not from the sound of her pleasure but from her admission that I was all she needed. That I was all she ever needed. I slammed deep and groaned as my release erupted through my cock and devoured me, letting her words and sweet submission drag me down into a blinding bliss that—for the first time in weeks—gave me peace.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed. I’m pretty sure I blacked out. When I came to, I was lying on my side on the bed with Natalie still curled around me, both of us slicked with sweat and breathing heavily, her face hidden in my chest and my hands buried in her hair.

My eyes drifting shut as my heart slowed its maddening rush. This was what I wanted. Just this for the rest of my life. I breathed in her sweet scent and pressed my lips to her temple, loving that she’d come to me. Loving that she’d given in to me. Loving most of all that she was still mine.

Her hand slowly lifted to my chest, and she drew back just a bit and inhaled deeply. “I...I need to use the restroom.”

“Okay.” I released her. Cool air washed over me as she scooted back. I couldn’t see her face in the dim light, but my gaze immediately rushed down her curves as she stood and stepped away on wobbly legs. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll...be right out.”

She crossed the room in the moonlight, her hair a messy tangle hanging down her back, and closed the bathroom door behind her. Alone, I sat up and looked over the room, seeing my boxers and her sleep shorts scattered on the floor.

I rose, got rid of the condom, and pulled on my boxers. After folding Natalie’s shorts, I set them on her dresser, then I tugged the comforter back and climbed onto the bed, bracing a hand behind my head as I reclined in the pillows and waited for her.

We still had so many things we needed to talk about, but I didn’t want to get into them tonight. Tonight, I just wanted to hold her and kiss her and reconnect the way we should have done weeks ago. And then I wanted to make love to her all over again, this time so slowly, there was no question in her mind about what she meant to me.

Long minutes passed. I glanced toward the bathroom door, expecting it to open at any moment. Silence filled the room. I could hear nothing coming from the other side—no water running, no toilet flushing, nothing but an eerie silence that made the hair on my nape tingle as five minutes turned to ten and ten crept toward fifteen.

I climbed off the bed and quietly crossed to the carved folding doors that separated the bathroom from the bedroom, listening for the shower in case she’d decided to jump in, but still heard nothing. I seriously didn’t want to interrupt her if she was on the toilet, but the flutter of unease in my gut told me that wasn’t the case.

Cautiously, I knocked. “Natalie? Are you okay in there?”

“I-I’m fine,” she called in a weak voice. A sniffling sound echoed from beyond the doors. “Don’t come in.”

Don’t come in shifted my unease to full-on worry. I reached for both door handles and jiggled, finding them locked. “Open the door, Natalie.”

“No.” That sniffling sound met my ears again. “Go away, Luc. I’m fine. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

She didn’t sound fine. Her voice was raspy as hell. And I didn’t like her telling me to go away after what had just happened in that bed.

My adrenaline surged, and I stepped back, ready to kick the door in if I had to. On the top of the bathroom doorjamb I spotted a small hooklike key.

I grabbed the key and flicked the lock open. Then pushed the doors apart and froze when I spotted Natalie sitting on the floor in the bathroom with her back against the clawfoot tub.

She was still naked, her legs pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees, her hair a wild mess of curls around her face. But one look was all it took for me to see she’d been crying. Tear tracks marred her cheeks, and her bloodshot eyes were swollen and red-rimmed when they met mine for the briefest second before darting away.

She turned her back to me and pressed her face to her knees. “I told you to leave me alone. Just go.”

My heart dropped like a stone into my gut. I’d known I’d hurt her. I’d known she was mad at me and that she had every right to be. But until this moment, I hadn’t realized just how much I’d damaged her. In that bathroom, I didn’t see the headstrong, challenging, never-take-no-for-an-answer woman who’d turned my world upside down. I saw a broken angel who’d all but given up. One I’d finally pushed too far.

“Merda.” I reached for a towel from the bar with shaking hands and crossed the floor in two strides. She tensed as I knelt at her side and wrapped the plush burgundy bath sheet around her body, but she didn’t lift her head, and from her muffled sobs, I could tell she was still crying. Which was my fault as well.

My chest contracted, and pain stabbed as deep as a dagger plunging to the hilt in my chest. Sitting next to her on the floor, I scooped her up and pulled her onto my lap. She didn’t fight me, and I had a sinking feeling it wasn’t because she wanted my touch but that she had no more fight left inside her. And that knowledge sent that dagger stabbing deep again and again because there wasn’t a thing I could do or say to make this better.

So I just held her. Leaning back against the tub, I rubbed my hand down her back and my fingers through her hair, and I did what little I could to comfort her while she cried against my shoulder.

And the whole time, I tried like hell to figure out what the fuck I should do next.

Or even if there was anywhere for us to go from here.