13
SALVATORE
She stands on the terrace, overlooking Naples as though the city offers answers I have not yet provided. Her figure is motionless, her palms resting flat against the cool stone railing. The slender shape of her shoulders is silhouetted by the city lights, making her appear fragile despite the strength I know she carries beneath her silence. She came willingly tonight, not compelled, not commanded. Yet, watching her from the shadows near the open doors, I recognize the tension woven through the line of her spine, a quiet defiance that she wears with dignity.
I move closer until she becomes aware of my presence, but she does not turn immediately. Her dark hair falls in careful waves down her back, brushing the edges of her shoulder blades with every breath she takes. When at last she glances back at me, there is no challenge in her expression, only a clear-eyed acceptance of where we now stand.
“You snuck away from your uncle’s estate again,” I say evenly, stepping beside her. My gaze remains fixed on the lights scattered below us, as though our conversation could matter aslittle as the traffic that flows beneath us. I wasn’t sure she’d come at my beckon, but here she is.
“The last time we were together, I told you what I want,” she replies. Her voice is calm, no longer guarded, yet beneath its steadiness lies uncertainty she does not fully conceal. “I’m not here simply because you beckoned, Salvatore. You don’t think it’s possible that I have my own selfish reasons for being here?”
The quiet honesty of her question satisfies something deeper than my pride. I extend my hand, palm upward, offering her another choice that she must willingly accept. Her gaze shifts briefly to my open hand, then rises slowly to meet mine again. The space between us fills with a tension I don’t push to relieve. I remain still, patient, allowing her to bridge this small distance herself.
“What is your reason, then?” I lift my hand slowly, admiring the way the lights from inside dance in her eyes. Here is this treasure, one whom all of Rome admires for the melodies she emits, but there is so much more to her than they see.
But I see her.
“You’re a fool… Don of your own family and you can’t read a woman?” Rosaria starts to walk past me into my great hall, and I catch her arm and stop her. Her eyes snap up to meet mine, and I see the way they’re hooded with lust. She is addicted to me, to my touch, to the way I make her feel powerful. She came for a fix, and it strokes my ego.
“If you came for me, then why walk away when I’m right here?” My grip doesn’t loosen, but she relaxes.
“Give me what I came for and I won’t have to walk away disappointed.” Her arm slips from my grasp and she continues, back into the hall that is now empty except for my staff busily cleaning tables and scraping what’s left of dinner into trash bins.
Smirking, I follow her, wondering where she’s headed, and follow her back toward the front door where I again catch herarm, and this time, she spins around into me. “Stay,” I say again. The first invitation during dinner long forgotten, she looks up at me pensively as I continue. “And I will give you anything you want.”
A flicker of a smirk dances over her lips. “Then take me to your room and I'll show you what I came for," she finishes, her voice a sultry whisper that leaves no doubt in my mind as to her intentions. I'm intrigued by her boldness, her willingness to play this game by her own rules, if only for tonight. With a smirk curling my lips, I lead her up the stairs to my private sanctuary, where my staff doesn’t even venture except when beckoned or scheduled.
The moment the door is locked behind us, the tension between us palpable enough to choke on, Rosaria turns to me, her eyes smoldering with desire. She reaches out and begins unbuttoning my shirt with delicate fingertips in a way that belies the urgency coursing through my veins. Her hands are cool against my heated skin as she bares my chest, her eyes never leaving mine.
Most women I bed are meek and cowering, eager to please but never daring to take the lead. Rosaria is different. She is a firebrand, and I find it irresistible. My hands shake with anticipation as I reach for her dress, itching to rid her of the barrier between us.
My fingers work quickly, undoing the delicate buttons down her back, each one revealing more of her creamy skin. Rosaria shivers as the fabric pools at her feet, leaving her clad in nothing but sheer black lingerie that teases more than it conceals. Her nipples harden against the lace bra, begging for attention, and I am more than willing to oblige.
My hands find their way below her waist, sliding her lace panties down her thighs with a delicate touch. My gaze never leaves hers, drinking in the desire that mirrors my own.Rosaria's breath hitches as I kneel in front of her, my lips brushing against her thighs. Slowly, I trail kisses up her inner leg, my tongue flicking over her heated flesh. Her scent is intoxicating, driving me mad with need.
"Salvatore," she gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair as I tease her mercilessly. I love the way she moans my name, the way it sounds like worship on her lips. My tongue dips between her folds, and she buckles against the onslaught of sensation. Rosaria arches her back, rocking her hips toward my eager mouth.
I groan against her dampness, feeling her heat envelop my tongue, and I know that tonight will never be enough. There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to explore all the ways I want to make this woman mine.
My hands find their way up her body, caressing her supple curves as she moans. Her nails dig into my shoulders, urging me onward, and I gladly oblige. I tease her swollen clit with the tip of my tongue, circling it before plunging my tongue inside her heat. Rosaria's moans fill the room, bouncing off the walls, and I relish in every single one of them.
Her hips rock against my face, her body moving to the rhythm of my tongue. My fingers join in the sensual assault, sliding in and out of her wetness as I continue to torture her with my mouth. Rosaria's knuckles are white where she grips the desk, her body arching off the surface as I continue to devour her. She's so close, I can taste it on her skin, and I know that with just a few more swipes of my tongue, she'll fly apart. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, and I relish in the power I hold over her.
"Sal," she moans, her voice a breathless whisper as she begs for release. I don't keep her waiting any longer. My tongue flicks over her swollen clit once more, and she convulses around my fingers, her entire body shuddering with orgasmic pleasure. Herjuices coat my fingers and chin as she pants above me, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.
She writhes and convulses, jerking and twitching as her thighs squeeze my head tightly, and my name falls from her lips in a breathless moan as her body shudders through the last of her orgasm. I can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at having been the one to elicit such a powerful response from her.
Slowly, I stand, my gaze never leaving hers. Rosaria's chest heaves with each ragged breath she takes, her eyes still hazy with pleasure. I reach for her hand and guide her to my bed, where she collapses as I tug my slacks off and toe off my shoes before joining her.
She eagerly spreads herself for me, but I flip her over, smacking the curve of her ass hard, leaving her gasping and clutching at the sheets. “Say you’re a good girl, Rosa,” I purr against the back of her neck as the stubble on my jaw scrapes her shoulder blade.
Rosaria's body tenses at the sudden spank, a mixture of shock and arousal coursing through her veins. This side of me, the one who craves control, is part of the allure. My dominance over her is addicting, just as intoxicating as the way I set her body ablaze with my touch.
"Y–Yes, I'm a good girl," she pants out, her voice shaky with desire.
I chuckle darkly in response, a satisfied smirk playing on my lips as I place kisses on her spine. My hands roam over her curves, squeezing and kneading her supple flesh as she squirms beneath me. My fingers dip lower, teasing her center before retreating again, leaving her aching for more.
"Good girl," I praise. "Ask me for more," I growl gently in her ear, my cock pressing against her dampness. I know she can feel how much I want her, how much I desire to be inside her. Rosaria fists the sheets in both hands, her body trembling withneed. Her breathing is ragged, and I know she's on the verge of begging me for more.
