Page 40 of Nicoli

“The same thing you’re doing to me.” I place my palms on his cheeks. “I’m ruining you.”

His lips slam into mine with a brutal force that knocks the breath from my lungs. My world shatters into a million pieces of euphoria, a moment I’ve been waiting for so long. He’s kissing me, and I can taste the hunger on his lips, feel the desire with every stroke of his tongue. It mirrors my own, our pent-up passions unleashing in an explosion of chaos.

Nicoli cups my cheeks while his body moves at a grueling pace, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he continues to kiss me. It’s as painfully beautiful as I had always imagined. It doesn’t matter that Paula is here because, right now, she’s a bystander and not a participant. It’sourbodies moving,ourlips craving,ourdesires taking control.

I moan as Nicoli tears his lips from mine, one hand sliding down to my jaw and pressing his fingers deep into my skin, gripping tight.

“Why can’t you just hate me?” he asks between labored breaths.

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

The tension in my belly fuels me to move faster, to rock harder, Paula’s tongue sliding and licking, her lips sucking on my clit, causing my legs to shake as pleasure forces prickles of delight through every muscle until my insides detonate with a rapture that tears through me like a hurricane.

“Jesus, fuck,” Nicoli curses, and I reach out, forcing him to look at me.

“Don’t come inside her. You can show me that courtesy.”

“I wish it was you. I wish it were you I’m fucking right now. God.” He bites his bottom lip, his body pistoning as his cock slams into her over and over again. Paula starts to cry out, and I press down harder on her face, muffling her sounds of ecstasy with my wet pussy.

“You look at me when you come, Nicoli Del Rossa.” My demand sends him spilling over the edge, his hooded gaze planted firmly on mine. He jerks back, reaches down and grabs his cock, pumping it hard, that first shot of cum landing hot on my stomach, the rest squirting onto Paula’s sweaty body beneath us. A deep groan echoes from his chest, and it’s the most magnificent sight I’ve ever seen. Every muscle, every tendon in his chest and shoulders is pulled taut, his jaw and neck set in tight lines as he comes, pleasure ripping through him.

Nicoli pushes himself back and away from Paula, who remains still and spent on the bed. I slide off the bed, my body nothing but waves of aftershocks, electrified with rapture. But my heart…my heart is fucking destroyed. There’s no trace of bliss on his face. His expression is pained, as if he knows it, too.

I can’t control the pain that now rushes to the surface, drowning out the adrenaline. I’m too exhausted to stop the tears from falling, so I let them as I walk up to him. My walls have already crumbled. There’s no need for me to stay strong anymore, and I no longer have to hide what I’m feeling. I’ve done it long enough, loved him from afar for too long. Staring up at him, I pray to God he can see in the depths of my eyes how my soul is bleeding out. I need him to know that this is the moment he lost me. Whether he loves me in this all-consuming way I love him or not, if fate ever had a happy ending in store for us, Nicoli just single-handedly destroyed it.

He destroyed me.

I slap him. Right across his beautiful fucking face, his neck jerking to the side. “You wanted me to hate you. Well, now I do. Congratulations, Nicoli.”

With that, I grab my dress and walk out of his room, leaving a piece of me behind. My dream. My heart. Him.

That was the moment I died…and I never want to take a goddamn breath again.

ChapterFifteen

MIRABELLA

My bedroom door slams shut with a reverberating crash. I stand still for a moment, my hands shaking and knees trembling as the realization of what I just did hits me like a freight train. I can’t believe I did that. It was stupid and reckless…and stupid.And now my heart is nothing but fragments of agony.

The assault of emotion is instantaneous. An invisible weight crushes me, and I sink to the floor in an agonizing heap. I cover my face with my hands as if that could stop the raging waterfall of tears from falling. But it flows freely, rivers of tears mixed with searing pain that seems to seep deep into bone. My chest is being hacked with jagged-edged knives, claws digging their way deeper and deeper until it consumes me entirely. My mind is a jumbled mess as I try to make sense of everything that’s happening, but it all seems hopeless. Nothing makes sense anymore.

God,Idon’t even make sense to me anymore.

I don’t know how long I sit with my back against the door. It could be minutes or hours; time loses meaning when you’re drowning. I should blame myself, but I don’t. Instead, I blame him, which is probably a selfish fucking thing because Nicoli never gave me any reason to think there’s more between us than family ties. I just always had a glimmer of hope in my heart that one day he’d wake up and realize he loves me. Now it’s nothing more than a young girl’s innocent dream that became a woman’s fantasy, and now turned into a nightmare.

I’ve always loved him. It was a love that grew from a little girl’s adoration to a young woman’s infatuation. I remember a time when we were inseparable, but that all changed abruptly. It was like we were close one day, and the next, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I could never figure out why, but I always hung on to hope that a day would come when the universe would somehow bring us together.

Now that hope is gone.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand, trying to compose myself. It’s no use, though. The pain gets worse with every beat of my heart, and I can hardly swallow a breath.

Stumbling to my feet, I strip down, dropping my clothes on the carpeted floor. I’m still crying as I walk to the bathroom and step into the shower. The burst of water is ice-cold, but I don’t even flinch. It slowly warms the longer I stand underneath it, water cascading down my face, my shoulders, my body. But I feel nothing. I can’t feel anything apart from this bone-crushing pain that seems to radiate from everywhere all at once. It’s raw and intense, thrumming like a live wire. I can taste the sorrow that crawls around me like a thousand flesh-eating insects. It’s bitter and heavy in my mouth, weighing down my tongue.

As the warmth finally reaches me, I start rubbing soap onto my skin, wanting nothing more than to be clean again. Clean from the nasty crud that clings to me. Clean of her. Clean of him. Not once did I feel this filthy after the sultry nights in Tuscany. My nights shared with Tommaso and Imelda were passionate and exquisite. Our hands and lips, bodies and breaths were intertwined with the mutual adoration and affection that fueled our every touch and kiss. I left them feeling like a goddess, desired and worshiped. Satiated and fulfilled. But this…this is different. I feel different. I feel dead. Broken. I’ve never felt this lost in my entire life. I’ve loved him for so long, and I don’t know who I am if I can’t love him.

“How could he do this to me?” I whimper, wiping water from my face, and my fingers hover over my lips. His kiss. Oh, God, his kiss. It was our first kiss, something I’ve wanted for so long. It was supposed to be beautiful, powerful, enraged with a passion that would explode on my tongue. That was the dream. But reality gave us a first kiss that lingers with echoes of cruelty, burning like acid, and now all I want is to wash it off my lips. I want it gone. I want him gone. But even as the suds slip down my body and swirl around the drain, they fail to cleanse away the stains of betrayal that cling to my skin like a curse. And no matter how hard I scrub, I can’t get him off me because he’s everywhere. His handprints are on my flesh. His eyes are in my head. His face is engraved into my heart. I can’t get rid of him because he owns my fucking soul.

“God, make it stop,” I plead, fresh tears pouring from my heart and down my cheeks. “Please make it stop!”

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