by Marian Tee
A kiss cut the flow of her words.
Lips that felt as cold as hers.
Lips that were so achingly familiar—
She knew these lips.
It was him.
She pulled away and opened her eyes.
It was him.
Angelo, down on one knee, holding an umbrella over the both of them with one hand, and in his other hand he held a crumpled bouquet of flowers.
He said hoarsely, “I was waiting for you at home, my Lane. I had this whole plan of teasing you then groveling at your feet—” A crooked smile formed on his lips. “I never thought you’d insist on waiting for me here…”
His eyes were pained as he gazed at Lane.
“I came as soon as I got Fico’s call. I just wish…” Angelo’s tone became unnaturally even. “I just wish I had come sooner—”
He stopped speaking.
Lane had started to cry again.
Dropping the umbrella and the flowers with a groan, he crushed her to him, and she curled against her chest, sobbing, “I thought you would never come.”
Ah.
No recriminations, no questions about the past, just Lane being true to herself the way he never had the courage to.
Just Lane, saying words that he could easily twist and throw at her face if he wanted to.
She truly was his perfect match.
He pressed trembling lips on her forehead, his chest tightening at the thought of how last night could have so easily made her leave him.
But she hadn’t.
She was still here, and now he could no longer hold the words back.
“I love you, Lane.” He felt her shudder in his arms, and Angelo tightened his hold on her. “I never thought a girl…like you could exist.”
Someone who would crave the kind of pain he desired to inflict—
Someone who could play this game that had made all other women leave him and hate him—
Someone who embraced this side of his that he hadn’t been able to risk revealing even…to the other girl—
And from here on, Angelo realized it would be like that.
Jaike was the other girl now.
Jaike was the one that no longer mattered while Lane…
Lane was the girl.
For him.
The only girl who had wanted to be his from the very start.
He cupped her face with shaking hands. He wanted to tell her all of this, wanted her to know that he was hers.
Irrevocably, he was hers.
Even in the times that she might not want him, he would still be hers.
But as soon as her eyes met his, Angelo was unable to speak.
His throat clogged. “Lane.” He could only choke out her name.
He watched her lips move but no words came out, and he realized it was the same for both of them.
The way they felt—
It was too much and there were no words to encompass them.
He slowly drew her close.
Their lips met, and the kiss said everything.
Lane started crying again.
Her tears mingled with their kiss, and unspoken words turned into eternal promises.
She cried and cried, and the fall of her tears were a sound that his heart could not escape from.
Despite the strong rain, the thundering skies—
He heard her tears.
And just like it was supposed to be for them, her pain fed his heart, and what once was dead started beating again.
Chapter Twenty
In an ideal world, when a man loved a woman, and she loved him back, all would be well. Or at least it should be if the man wasn’t a sadist and the woman wasn’t a masochist.
It was another early morning on a weekday, but unlike in the past, it was Lane who had trouble getting up and Angelo looking relaxed and disgustingly fit to conquer the world.
She didn’t understand it at all. Had she been making love to a robot the entire time? They had not left their bedroom yesterday at all, and she had paid the price for it this morning.
Every muscle in her body had protested when she trudged her way to the shower, and descending the stairs had been pure torture. Her legs shook so badly she found herself clutching the handrail while she took the steps one at a time.
Standing up the moment Lane entered the dining room, Angelo took one look at the way she was practically limping towards the table and laughed.
“It’s not funny,” she protested.
“It’s not,” he agreed solemnly as he strode towards her. Making her squeal in surprise as he suddenly scooped her up, he carried her the rest of the way, murmuring, “Actually, seeing you in pain and knowing it’s because I fucked you hard—”
Her face flamed. “Angelo!”
“It just makes me want you more.”
What?
No!
She had classes today!
She automatically tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he only laughed, his arms tightening around her. Taking his seat, he kept her on his lap, asking, “Will you be comfortable here?”
She shook her head vehemently.
He set her down on the chair in his right with evident reluctance.
A server came forward right away, serving her with a plate of freshly made waffles. She was about to take a bite when she saw Angelo staring at her.
“Umm…w-what is it?” Oh my gosh, those silvery eyes would kill her. The way he was looking at her now, and knowing that he loved her—
She resisted the urge to fan herself.
Angelo was still staring.
“Is s-something on my face?”
He nodded.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“My kiss.” And he promptly took her mouth with his, the kiss unashamedly deep and passionate.
Oh my gosh!
She tried pushing him away, conscious of the fact that they had staff with them, but this only made Angelo drive his tongue further inside her mouth.
Oh…gosh.
When Angelo finally lifted his head, she didn’t even remember why she had wanted to risk.
He smiled at her.
She smiled at him.
“Best dessert I’ve tasted in a long time, my Lane,” he whispered.
Oh! She could only gulp, unable to think of anything coherent to say to him.
Still facing her, he leaned back against his seat and took a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Lane.
She asked nervously, “A-are you done with breakfast?”
“Yes.”
He was still staring, and she protested, “I c-can’t eat if you’re going to be looking at me the whole time.”
“I’m sorry,” Angelo apologized readily. “Let me rectify that.”
Huh?”
“I’ll feed you, tesoro.”
What?
“Say ‘aah.’”
She automatically opened her mouth and said ‘ah,’ and in went a slice of waffle, coated with honey and with chunks of strawberry mixed in.
His smile widened. “Good girl.”
She smiled back weakly. Did she really think Angelo would change now that he loved her? He was still sadistic as ever, only this time he was bent on torturing her with an overload of sweetness.
While chewing on her waffle, Lane hesitantly asked him for an update about his case against Margarita.
His face became grim. “Not going as well as I hoped.”
Her brows furrowed. “Does she want more money?”
He said with visible reluctance, “No.”
Lane was surprised. “Then what?”
“She has a personal vendetta against me, tesoro,” he said finally. “Money no longer means anything to her.”
Oh.
“Then what does she want?”
He said dryly, “Your heart on a platter.”
She gasped.
“Barring that, my body in her—”
She said quickly, “My heart is hers.”
; He smiled. “I thought you’d say that.” He kissed her hair, murmuring, “Which is why I’m paying my legal team thousands of dollars to keep her from troubling us.”
When it was time for her to leave for uni, she said shyly, “Goodbye.” And this time, Lane knew better not to leave without kissing him. Getting to her feet, she bent towards to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
She half-expected him to protest and kiss her deeper—
If she was being her honest masochistic self, she was hoping he would do that.
But nothing happened.
She straightened slowly.
Angelo only smiled when their gazes met.
Okaaaaay. She blurted out, “You’re not mad?”
“Why should I be?” He waved a languidly dismissive hand as he spoke, and the staff, understanding the silent command, turned away poker-faced. They started smirking the moment they stepped out of the dining room.
Poor naïve signorina.
“I see.” She bit her lip.
“You want to say something, tesoro?”
“Y-you’re not even going to punish me?”
He raised a brow. “I don’t see why I should.” He paused. “Unless you want me to?”
His sly gaze making her red, she lied, “No, of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
“I…I…”
“Because I could be persuaded…” He suddenly tugged her close, and as she tumbled against him, Angelo murmured in her ear, “Very easily.”
Oh.
The dangerous tone put her on alert, and she immediately tried getting away, but it was too late. In an instant, she found herself plopped down on his seat at the head of the table.
Another moment and Angelo had sunk down to his knees—
She squealed in shock. “Oh my God, what are you—”
Angelo was pushing her legs wide open.
“No, oh my God—”
She felt her panties being pushed all the way down.
“Angelo, please—aaaah!”
He disappeared under the table and started stroking her folds. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she fumbled for anything to hold on to—
Her fingers found a fork and wrapped around it reflexively…just as the door opened.
Her head jerked up, and Lane whitened at the sight of Fico.
“Signor Valencia, the chopper is—” The bodyguard broke off when he saw that that Lane was alone in the dining room. “Signorina, I was informed the master was here.”
Angelo chose that moment to plant his face between her legs, his tongue thrusting hard into her heat.
Her grip on the fork tightened, and she gasped, “Planting. I mean, gardening, aaaahh—” The forceful strokes of Angelo’s tongue made her brain malfunction.
Fico gazed doubtfully at the other set of doors in the dining room, which led to the garden. “I wonder if I should interrupt the master. Signor Valencia has never expressed an interest in the garden.”
Lane could only smile weakly. She was terrified a cry of pleasure would slip out of her the moment she opened her mouth.
“But the signor also said it is imperative we inform him the moment the chopper arrives,” Fico continued worriedly.
As the bodyguard spoke, Angelo chose that exact moment to switch his focus on her clit, sucking on the tiny swollen flesh while he thrust his fingers into her depths.
Moisture flooded out of her.
“Would you happen to know what the signor is doing in the garden, signorina?”
She turned to Fico. “He’s ah…”
Angelo fucked her hard with his fingers, and she struggled to breathe and keep her eyes from rolling back.
“Signorina?”
Oh my gosh, she was so wet, the chair’s cushion had to be soaking under—
She gasped, “Watering.” Fico blinked, and Lane forced herself to meet the bodyguard’s confused gaze even as the wetness continued to gush out of her. “The g-gardener told him there’s a new w-watering technique.”
Oh, Angelo.
The things you make me say and do.
“It’s v-very important, s-so don’t interrupt him.”
Fico said reluctantly, “If you say so, signorina.”
“Yes,” she managed to croak out even as she felt the powerful and familiar stirrings inside her body, starting from the pit of her stomach, traveling to her breasts and the sensitive, quivering core of her flesh.
“I’ll t-tell him you came.” So please go.
“Understood, signorina.”
The door closed.
Angelo’s laughter filled the room.
But she couldn’t even get mad.
She was too busy coming in his mouth.
When the aftershocks of her orgasm faded, Lane found Angelo lifting her off his chair and thought it was all over.
It was not.
Before she realized what he was doing, he already had her bent over the dining table, legs spread wide open. She heard the sound of him unzipping himself and shuddered with a moan. “A-Angelo, n-no—”
“Ah, but what you really mean is yes,” he crooned from behind. “Si?” He stroked her hair tenderly, just as he shoved his engorged cock into her in one fierce, deep motion.
The contrast in his actions was too much, and she started to cry out—
He clapped his hand over her mouth.
“Sssh, tesoro. You don’t want everyone to come running here?”
Her eyes widened.
Angelo released her mouth. His hips began to pump furiously behind her. His hands gently but firmly pushed her forward, and she found herself quickly moving the plates away before she could accidentally hit them.
His cock sank deeper and faster into Lane, the relentless pump of his hips driving her forward until her breasts were squashed against the table.
Lane began to see stars, and she covered her mouth quickly with one hand.
He tells me to keep quiet, she thought helplessly, but he makes it impossible for me not to scream.
Angelo really was a sadist—
His fingers bit into her hips as he shoved his cock balls deep into her.
Her body shuddered, and pleasure spiraled out of her body.
Her lips parted just as her hand fell limply away from her mouth.
She was coooooooming—
But Angelo’s hand was there to cover her mouth, and she came with quiet, shuddering cries.
Sadist. The word whirled in her mind as the orgasm took over her body. He was such a sadist, but he was her sadist, and he always knew when to let her fall or when to be there for her.
After her second orgasm for that morning, the muscles in her legs felt like they were on fire, and what should have been a five-minute walk to the front door turned into ten.
“This is your fault,” she grumbled between her teeth while smiling her thanks at the guards who swiftly opened the doors for them.
“I know.” In contrast, Angelo’s words were lined with manly satisfaction. Kissing her on the cheek, he moved his mouth to her ear, whispering, “I almost forgot.” Before she could ask, he said softly, “I love you.”
And then he was walking away.
The front doors of the mansion had already closed behind Angelo before she could recover from her shock.
Oh my gosh, did she just—
She hobbled happily towards Umberto, her spirits so high that she found herself forgiving Angelo for forcing her to take his limousine to uni.
“Good morning, signorina.” Umberto allowed himself a polite smile as the signorina beamed and returned his greeting. Such a moody child, he thought fondly. Just a few seconds ago, she had looked like she carried a grudge against the master, and here she was now, looking quite besotted.
When Lane was inside the car, Fico immediately handed her a beautifully wrapped box and a card.
“For you, signorina.”
“Umm…thanks.” She took out the card from the envelope first.
Call me as soon as you
open your gifts.
AV
Her heart skipped a beat.
Fingers trembling, she carefully unwrapped his gift, which was a pair of ballet flats made of black lace and velvet. There was a note tucked inside the shoebox. The first line read—
Wear them, my Lane. They’ll make walking easier for you after last night.
Her cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. Taking the shoes out, she stored her existing pair in the box and slid her feet in the new ones. A wry smile touched her lips. It wasn’t just wonderfully comfortable. It was the perfect fit, too, as expected from Angelo.
Her gaze moved back to Angelo’s note.
Open the cooler. My next gift is in it.
She did as instructed and inside the cooler, she saw a set of imported ready-to-drink tea in artisan-painted bottles. The first bottle came with a note as well.
Drink this, tesoro. It is good in relaxing both mind and body.
It should help you cope with my demands tonight.
Lane’s hands flew to her burning cheeks at the note. He had clearly perfected the art of embarrassing her, with the way he could make her blush even when he wasn’t around.
Uncapping a bottle of tea, she took a small sip. The liquid was ice cold, minty, and sweet. The perfect blend, she thought ruefully.
Taking her phone out, she called Angelo and had another sip as his phone started to ring.
Angelo answered on the third ring, asking silkily, “Did you like my gifts, my Lane?”
“Y-yes.” She felt shy all of a sudden. It almost didn’t feel right that he was being this sweet towards her, and a part of Lane was questioning what she could have done to deserve it.
“Good.” His voice turned brisk. “If I may, I would like to ask a favor.”
Oh. His words almost sounded like she had been bribed, but she quickly pushed the thought away and told herself she was being silly.
“What is it?” She nervously took a sip of her tea.
“Could you buy us condoms?”
Lane spewed out her tea.
Angelo’s chuckle was the sound of pure, wicked pleasure, and she knew – she just knew he had anticipated her reaction and had planned everything – the tea, his suddenly serious question, his shocking words.
Everything!
She cried out, “Sadist!”
And her fallen angel didn’t even bother to deny it, saying mildly, “The very best there is.” And oh, how her heart ached in the most agonizingly sweet way at the words.