Page 130 of Beneath the Shadows

I shift into position as he drags my panties down my legs. The sound of his zipper fills the air, and I part my legs, inviting him in. He teases me, sliding the tip of his cock through my slick folds before pressing deep inside me from behind.

His movements are agonizingly slow. “Please, Antonio,” I beg.

“What do you need,tesoro?” His voice is dark, teasing.

“More,” I gasp.

With those words, he thrusts deep, and every thought fades away. There’s only sensation—Antonio moving inside me, pushing me higher until a wave of pure ecstasy crashes over me. My body trembles beneath him as he grips my hips, pulling me closer while he chases his own release.

“I want everyone in that room tonight to know you’re mine,” he whispers against my skin, placing kisses along my spine.

His possessiveness stirs something deep inside me. Something more powerful than the pleasure we’ve just shared.

“Yes, Antonio,” I breathe. “I am yours.”

He holds my hips tightly, our bodies still connected. I think he’s going to say more, instead he slowly pulls out. I move to stand, but Antonio presses a hand to my lower back “Stay here.”

He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the water running. A moment later, he returns with a warm washcloth, gently cleaning between my legs before helping me to my feet.

“You should get dressed before I change my mind, and we miss your show,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes.

* * *

The crisp evening air wraps around us as Antonio and I step out of the car in front of the gallery. There’s already a line that stretches around the block. My stomach flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement at seeing the crowd waiting to enter.

Antonio walks around the car to open my door, offering me his hand as I step onto the smooth pavement. His sharp gaze sweeps over the crowd with a subtle intensity. "I would've preferred a more visible security presence," he says, standing close.

Dante discreetly positioned several men in suits who blend seamlessly with the attendees. I’m able to pick them out easily. Their sharp, watchful eyes tell me they’re here for our protection.

I lean in, keeping my voice low. "I don’t want my father overshadowing tonight. This is our moment."

Despite his concern, his expression softens, and he kisses my temple. "Are you ready to wow your fans?"

"Let’s do this,” I respond, a smile breaking through my nerves.

As we walk toward the gallery entrance, his hand rests at the small of my back, guiding me with steady reassurance. The murmurs of the crowd grow louder as we approach, and I take a moment to absorb it all before we step inside.

Ophelia greets us at the door, her face alight with excitement. "Alessia, you look stunning!" she gushes, stepping aside to let us in. "The crowd outside is buzzing. They've been waiting for hours."

We enter the gallery, which hasn’t yet opened to the public. The pristine white walls are adorned with my framed photographs, each one carefully lit to highlight its details. The space is serene, the calm before the inevitable storm of guests.

Antonio looks around, his face lighting up with genuine admiration. "Tesoro,it looks even more incredible than I imagined." He pulls out his phone and snaps a few photos of the displays. "I’ll send these to my mom and Cecilia."

“I wish they could be here.”

“They’ll be here for the next one,” he assures me.

As we walk through the gallery, Ophelia explains where she placed each series, her enthusiasm palpable. "Your Magnolia Springs series is right at the entrance to draw people in," she says, pointing to the large prints of tree-lined streets and the peaceful Magnolia River. "And over there are your urban shots of Philadelphia. The contrast between the city and nature is breathtaking."

“Thank you for everything,” I say, my heart full of gratitude.

Ophelia beams, clearly pleased with our reactions. “There are only a few minutes until we open. I’ll leave you two alone.”

The tranquility of the gallery is soothing, a calm before the storm of guests. I bask in the momentary peace as we reach the final display—a series of black and white portraits that are particularly close to my heart. I pause, taking in the expressions of the faces I'd captured, each one unique, yet universally human.

As we finish our walk around, Antonio takes one last photo, a selfie of him and I, before he puts away his phone, takes my hand, and smiles. "Let's go make some memories."

Ophelia swings the doors wide open as she extends her arms, her voice ringing out warmly. "Welcome, everyone, to Alessia Luciano’s showcase."

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