“No,” I agreed.
“Promise me, Tesoro. If you get frightened, when that instinct to run kicks in, tell me. I’ll hold you until it goes away. I’ll fight whatever demons are haunting you. Trust me enough to do that.”
I took in a deep breath. “I do, Stefano.” My throat felt constricted, my voice tight. “You have to trust the person you love.”
It took a moment for my words to sink in. He stopped stroking my head, his mouth opening slightly.
“What did you say?”
“I love you, Stefano. You mean so much to me. How it happened, when it happened, I don’t know, but it’s real.” I swallowed. “Ti amo.”
He bent, hauling me into his arms, holding me close.
He whispered words. Phrases. Not all of which I understood. He pressed kisses to my cheeks, against the skin of my neck, the end of my nose, and finally covered my mouth with his, kissing me. I felt his love, his affection soaking into my skin with each caress. Every touch branded me as his. Every word that fell from his lips was a benediction, a celebration of us.
“Say it again, Tesoro.”
“I love you, Stefano Borelli. I love you with all my heart.”
He sighed. “Those are my favorite words in the entire world.”
“They’re all for you.”
He kissed me again. “Good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Gabby
I woke up the next morning feeling differently. It was the first time in years I hadn’t woken up panicked or worried. Even with the thought of Wayne finding me, I was more relaxed than I could remember being for a long time.
A lot of it had to do with the man I woke up beside. When Stefano was asleep, his face was relaxed and peaceful. He had one arm around me, holding me close, his head next to mine on my pillow. His strength and warmth surrounded me. His dark hair was messy, his beard thick. I ran my fingers over his jaw, smiling when he pursed his lips as if I were tickling him. I slid my hand down his torso, feeling the sinewy muscles and the dusting of hair on his chest. I ghosted his navel, feeling his erection pressing against me.
“Keep that up, Tesoro, and you’ll be sorry,” he rumbled, pulling me closer.
“Touching you?” I whispered. “I like touching you.”
“Teasing me like that.”
I dropped my hand, wrapping it around his cock. “Like this?”
“Jesus,” he muttered as I pumped him slowly. “Gabby, Theo will wake up soon.”
“I think someone beat him to the punch,” I murmured. “You feel pretty up to me.”
He groaned, then hissed low in his throat as I slid under the blanket, replacing my hand with my mouth. He was hot, thick, and musky. I tongued the underside, cupping his balls, then teased the crown, smiling at his low curses and pleas. I slowly swallowed around him, taking in as much of him as I could, and began to suck. I alternated between long, teasing pulls, flicks of my tongue, and deep suction, all while listening to his mutterings, the slap of his hand on the mattress, and seeing the way he arched his back, driving his hips forward, begging me for more.
“Shift up,” he demanded. “Let me touch you.”
Not releasing him, I spun and immediately felt his hand on me. Stroking, seeking, teasing. His thumb pressed against my clit as he sank two fingers into me, pumping in time to my mouth sucking on him.
“Jesus, you’re soaked for me.”
I whimpered low in my throat, making him moan my name. I hummed again, knowing how much he liked the vibration. He moved his hand faster.
“Tesoro,” he groaned. “I can’t take much more.”
I hummed around him again, speeding up. I wanted him to fall. To let go and take for a change. He gave all the time. I wanted to do this for him. I was already so close, I could feel the tremors racing through me. He knew exactly how to touch me. How to take me to the edge fast. I stiffened around him, sucking deeper as he swelled and released, his hips undulating, his breathing hard as he came. My orgasm burst, and we were a mass of shivering limbs, low groans, and shared ecstasy. His free hand found mine, and he squeezed my fingers, holding it to his chest as he gasped my name, then stilled. I pulled back, dropping to the mattress, my head on his thigh, trying to catch my breath. For a moment, neither of us moved. I began to roll over when it happened.
His bedroom door opened. We both froze.
“Stefo, have you seen my mom? I’m hungry.”
Stefano sat up fast, dragging the blanket higher, covering my legs and feet. The fluffy duvet was yanked over top of me as well.
Panic was evident in his voice. “I think your mom is, ah, in the bathroom, little man. You go to the kitchen, and I’ll come get your breakfast.”