by Pamela Ann
“Luca …” she whispered hesitantly, heavily drugged by the kiss we had shared.
“Per favore … Don’t think … Stop thinking and let it happen,” I roughly demanded without leaving her lips because I was too afraid it might give her time to think. I simply wanted for us to feel each other and the type of magic we weaved together, beautiful and perfervid. “Let me love you, amore.”
With pure determination, my mind shut down as my body took over, taking charge of the situation, filling my senses at full throttle.
My loins were on fire as my nostrils took her in, breathing her scent as if she was the most beautiful, fragrant thing I had ever beheld. Seeking her, my hands went past her breasts, heading downwards before landing on her prized possession, leaving me even more breathless, speechless.
A heavy lump lodged in the back of my throat, noting the form that shaped her body to accommodate another life. Her tiny baby bump made her all the sexier in my eyes. My gaze hadn’t graced such loveliness such as this—seeing the woman I loved blossom into motherhood. It was the most precious thing to see, to feel, and it took the wind out of me.
“My baby …” I whispered, leaving a soft kiss on her heated skin.
If I had considered myself possessive with her before, I should think again. The emotions that ran amuck inside of me were stupefying. However, despite it overwhelming me, I felt humbled, honored even.
I wanted to devour her, yet at the same time, I was careful not to hurt her. It was a combination of pure torment and awe, and when I heard her sigh—the melodious sound of complete surrender—I didn’t hesitate for a second.
Maybe it was the insatiable hunger, the desperation, the controlled anger, or maybe a combination of all of them. Regardless, I seemed to have trouble slowing down. It felt as if I was on the verge of tears. My heart seemed like it was ready to explode out of my chest as I voraciously took what she was giving me.
It was crass and purely nonsensical, but I had to have her, and the nearest furniture that could do was the antique table the Pope had bestowed on our family in the early sixteenth century. It was a beloved piece of art that I considered a highly-priced asset. As of this moment, though, it was simply a table, nothing more.
I needed to be inside of her, or I would go ballistic with this profound feeling that was eating me alive inside. She was the source of happiness, sadness, and subliminal joy compounded into one blissful package.
With her sitting atop the table, legs gloriously splayed as I lavished on her, my hands were hasty as they took off her simple cotton dress and bra, leaving her soft, pink underwear on. My mouth feasted on her swollen breasts as my nether region tried not to gravitate against her damp flesh. It was a hardship, but I knew the rewards later for resisting the urge were worth reaping.
She had ruined me. Nevertheless, only her … Only this woman could bring me back alive. Only she could build me back up.
Heavily drugged with love and lust, I was past salvation. I needed her like no other. I was past desperation, past lunacy. I was a man on a mission, and nothing could stop me from making love to the woman who commanded my entirety.
Half lidded eyes gazed at me with pure abandon as she watched me push my pants down before I hastily pulled my cock out, ramrod straight, throbbing, and proud.
Her eyes instantly feasted on it, salivating at the thought of what it could do to her.
“You’re magnificent, Luca …” she murmured huskily, her eyes fully dilated with feverish hunger. “You never cease to make my heart skip a beat.”
I made a growl from the potent desire that was taking over my body.
“Where do you want this, amore?” I hoarsely asked, toying with the game we used to tease each other with before we mated like animals. It was a foreplay that had driven us mad with desire. My body was on fire from remembering how she used to respond to me, to my touch, to my cock.
Fuck! The idea of her…
… Now …
Fuck!
I might not know her mind and heart all too well, but her body? I knew it inside out. It was vividly ingrained in my memory.
“I want you everywhere.” Licking her lips, she threw me a look that closely depicted the rawness of her ache. “In my mouth, on me, in me …”
Gripping my cock, I roughly stroked it, my eyes never leaving hers. “Si, cara … Cos’altro vuoi?” (What else do you want?)
“I want …” she choked out, panting. “I want …” She paused before I saw the clouded look her face gave away, as if she was about to change her mind. “We shouldn’t … maybe—” she blurted out, hesitant.
“The hell we shouldn’t,” I hissed just as my hand swiftly pushed her underwear to the side before I bit the side of her neck, which made her scream with pleasure right as I plunged my cock into her core, sliding between her thighs and into her soaking channel as deeply seated as it would let me.
She was tight, as though she hadn’t been touched for a long time. The very idea of Anton touching her awakened the rage within me. As much as I wanted to punish her body by pounding deeply into her pussy, though, I knew I must take caution due to the baby.
Her luscious breasts felt heavy in my hand before I brazenly plucked one nipple and gently tugged it before picking up speed, pounding a little harder than before.
The indescribable beauty, the sacredness of a man and woman making love as she carried his child, the profound unprecedented love I felt for her—it all felt like too much. As much as I wanted to stop so I could gradually taste and feel her body, I had little control over my resistance. I was drowning in her … Dio … but I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want any of it to end.
“Ti amo …” (I love you.)
“You’re always going to be mine. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you will forever belong to me.” The last few words barely got past my lips before my orgasm took over my body, leaving a stream of creamy ropes inside of her as I bit into her neck, softly suckling her sensitized skin, making us one once more …
I was marking her as mine. Her husband be damned.
Gently heaving against her lips, I had a moment of clarity. Making love to her felt right, and I would rather die than go backwards from here. What we had done was a major sign that there was still something there, that what remained between us was still not finished … that maybe it would never be over.
My thoughts weighed the risks that she and I would face, but to me, I believed all the hardships and tribulations would be worth it in the end.
To hell with the ramifications, the paternity test, and all that shit in between. I wanted my woman back, and I would have her and my child at all costs. If I had to place my heart on a platter, serve it raw, then so be it.
This was what I had longed for. This was the reason I had become a mad man I didn’t recognize, driving the races with reckless abandon. I was heartbroken, shattered by the loss of her, and I had never recovered.
After what had just happened between us, I knew it was worth another shot. I loved her. I loved her like I needed air to breathe, to function, and with our child on the way, there was no question about it. She would stay by my side, even if I had to tackle my mother, my father, and whoever else wanted to take her away from me. I was willing to lay it all down if only to prove to her that I was ready to forgive and forget so we could go back to being together and preparing for our child to be born.
=-=-=-=
“Caro, I need to use the bathroom,” she sighed out with a smile in her tone.
Slowly, I eased off her, cautious about her reaction.
This was the side of Kimberly I wasn’t sure about—the mental and emotional aspect. Since we were done making love, it was petrifying to think that I couldn’t read what she was thinking, and knowing her, she was thinking plenty.
Watching her naked form stride towards the bathroom, I followed her, not wanting to be apart from her for too long.
From the back view, one couldn’t tell she was pregnant. I was tempted to
ask if it was healthy to be this skinny during this stage of pregnancy, but I didn’t want to ruin the shared, tranquil vibe between us. I knew from experience that women tended to be a little sensitive when it came to the subject of pregnancy. Therefore, I didn’t want to press on that matter with her. I was sure she was on top of it. She was that kind of a woman. I trusted she would take very good care of our baby.
Funny how a kiss from her could completely vanquish all my doubts about the paternity of the baby’s father. It was as if her kiss had cemented my confidence, as if it was a validation of the undeniable connection she and I shared. It might seem silly, petty even, but it was how I felt. I had never been this connected with her, and I supposed I had to take her word for it. Everything had been a risk, and so it would be once more.
Upon entering the bathroom, Kimberly barely gazed at her naked body in the mirror. Instead, she was focused on washing her hands. She did it in such a way that gave away how much she was thinking. It was slow—too slow—that she rinsed even though the soap was all washed off.
Desperately needing her to stop weighing everything in, I threw out my ideas offhandedly.
“I want you to divorce him and marry me,” I blurted out, realizing I meant every single word of it. Yes, her carrying my last name and the baby, as well, was just as it should’ve been.
For some reason, the idea didn’t seem to appeal to her because she immediately tensed, becoming pale as a ghost. She stared back at me from the mirror, truly aghast at my suggestion as she licked her lips, perplexed.
“Luca.”
“This is how it’s going to be from now on, Kim.” My life depended on this. There was no going back. It was all or nothing.
She shook her head. “No …”
“Like hell it isn’t! I just had you moments ago, was inside of you, making love to you, and you’re telling me that all of that shit meant nothing?” I fucking didn’t get her.
With her eyes downcast, she slowly spun around to face me before lifting those powerful eyes towards me. “I can’t leave. I can’t do that to Anton. I’m sorry,” she said in a decisive manner, shifting everything inside of me, as my heart gradually shriveled at her decision.
In total shock and utter disbelief of her decision and that she didn’t even give it a moment to think things through, her betrayal ran deeply once more, reminding me who I was dealing with—the woman who had chosen another man.
Swallowing the little pride I had left, I still persisted like the stubborn fool I was.
“But why, Kim? I don’t understand,” I asked in the most confused, broken tone, hoping she didn’t see how her words profoundly affected me.
“I’ll always want you—what we had in those two short weeks—but I’m married now, Luca. I wish I could throw everything away and be with you, but it’s just not in the cards for me.”
“Kim …” I openly begged, my knees dropping to the floor, ready to lay everything on the line just to be with her. “Please … Don’t do this to me,” I whispered in a shattered voice. “Not again. Please, not again.” I was a glutton for punishment.
Why must she keep doing this? I didn’t understand any of it. I couldn’t comprehend what her intentions were in coming here.
“I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.” She sniffed, brushing past my frozen, unmoving body.
I was still processing her answer when I heard her fleeing in the background. My brain was commanding me to move, to reach out to her, to seek understanding, but I was too flummoxed, too hurt to function properly.
She probably regretted everything that had just happened. Her guilt possibly had made her unable to handle being around me, as if I was simply a mistake as she had once insinuated. Why must I keep torturing myself at the thought of her? At the memory of us when she herself couldn’t be bothered with it?
I was at a loss for words to describe anything at all. I was at a standstill, frozen from shock, from my blinding stupidity.
Goddammit, but her rejection hurt even more than before. I had thought I was immune from it, yet I wasn’t. Through the dull numbness came a faint ache, forever stinging, forever reminding that I wasn’t worthy of her.
Sei
I gave myself a day to console myself, nothing more. The day after that solemn day, I had to toughen myself up and get back to business.
Rage fueled my fire, and with that came my decision of fully taking part in the baby’s life. That unborn baby had my blood running through him or her. It was imperative the child carry my name, my legacy—my family’s legacy and years of history. The di Medici last name came with responsibility and unprecedented wealth. My child was entitled to all of that, and I didn’t want Kimberly or her husband depriving him or her of what was rightfully theirs.
Gathering a team of lawyers, I made sure they ironed out a proposal that would give me partial custody of the child. As tempted as I was to punish her by trying to get the child fully off her hands, I didn’t want my daughter or son growing up without their mother. A mother’s love was important from what I had heard. I couldn’t apply my own experience with that theory since mine was a totally selfish, self-centered woman who only cared about herself. Therefore, disregarding my own personal experience, I still believed Kimberly a fit mother, despite her choices. She spoke so highly of her family, and I had to base her family loyalty and love off that.
My set rules were not negotiable, and I wanted to stress that out in the contract. If I had to use my name, my power, and money to get what I wanted, then so be it. Kimberly had crossed the proverbial line two days ago. There was no going back after that, only forwards, and this was how the future would be played out between us.
Seven lawyers all gazed up at me as I spoke, detailing precisely what needed to be done just as Gino, my assistant, strode into the room, momentarily halting the meeting.
“Signore …” he said guardedly, clearing his throat. “There’s been a recent development, and with all due respect, I believe you must hear it.”
He believed? Since when was he the decision-maker of my life?
Reeling my impatience in, I blew out a breath before asking, “What is it?”
Throwing a quick glance towards the swarm of lawyers before straying towards me, he wanly gave me a look. “Signora Gallo had an emergency this morning, and her husband called me to inform that she won’t be able to come in the meeting tomorrow since her doctor recommends that she doesn’t overexert herself and be overburdened with stress. Apparently, the stress is too much for her and the baby.”
I completely stopped breathing. Kimberly and the baby were in danger? My mind couldn’t wrap around the idea.
“She’s in the hospital?”
He meekly nodded. “Yes, and Signor Gallo asks if you could not visit, because that might worsen Signora Kimberly’s condition.”
I only nodded because my throat felt too constricted to utter a response.
My mind raced as I pictured her in the starch linen hospital beds, worried about the baby’s health.
It was my fault she was in there in the first place. It was because of my sudden proposal or possibly when Gino phoned a couple of hours later, setting up a meeting for tomorrow because I was adamant to have a resolution for this situation.
My hastiness had caused all of this. It was my fault our child was in danger at this very moment. It was because of my selfishness and wanting to hurt her; that was why she had been put in this condition.
None of it made me feel better. What had gotten into me? This was my child. My fucking child. I had to protect it at all costs. No matter what, it was my responsibility.
Kimberly went out of her way to hurt me, but how long must I keep going on this way? Though the hurt was too much to bear, I admitted I was beyond drained from it all. How long must I crusade in this tiresome manner?
She wanted happiness; I knew that. Maybe I should simply swallow my pride and do the right thing, and that was to fully let her go to live a life without me threatening in the corner
or hounding ceaselessly.
Besides, considering our situation in a different light, what could I really offer the child? I wasn’t the best candidate to be a father. It wasn’t as though I knew how to take care of it to begin with. Even if I hired the most qualified nannies, it wouldn’t be the same. With her, she already had a family. The baby could grow up in a secured, caring environment, free from confusion, away from the drama my life could bring. Away from me, the baby would be shielded from the media, from the maddening craziness of my mother, and the chaotic life I led.
My train of thought had led me to one solution that would make everything easier for her. Could I truly give her up as well as our child? Could I be a selfless man? Could I grant her the life she craved?
Yes, my mind answered itself. I still loved her, and if this was the last thing I could give her, then maybe I should. Our baby would benefit from it.
I was a fucked up man. I didn’t want my child to be influenced by me. I wasn’t worthy of it. I wasn’t worthy of them, of having them as a family.
Maybe truly loving someone meant to let them go to be with the person they ought to be with. In this case, it was her husband, Anton Gallo.
Difficult as it was, I knew I had to let her go. For the baby’s sake, I had to set aside my pride and my emotions. For my baby, I would do anything, even if it meant giving up the vengeful emotion that had persisted and plagued my life from the moment Kimberly had betrayed me.
“Draw up a contract,” I demanded. “I’m withdrawing everything—all of my rights. Give her everything, and I mean every single thing she desires and everything she might yearn for in the future.” I could afford it, all of it.
“But, Signore …” one of the senior lawyers spoke out, unsure about my hasty decision. “Are you sure about this? Why don’t you take a day or two to think it through? I advise that you do because, once it’s signed and sealed, it can never be undone.”