Chapter 26

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

Saverio

S weat drenches my T-shirt. My trainers beat the path hard. Except for the spotlights that illuminate the road, Prospect Park is dark. It's five-thirty. The sun won't be up for another hour.

Despite the steady but tough rhythm I pound out on the concrete, frustration mounts inside me with every mile I cover. Why the fuck hasn't Nicole replied yet? I sent three text messages since five o'clock. I have a good mind to drive over there, but her husband may not appreciate it if I kick down their door before he's had his first cup of coffee.

Biting back the growing agitation, I push my heart rate to a hundred and seventy beats per minute. Near the entrance, I slow down to catch my breath. I'm doing my stretching when a call comes in on my smartwatch.

About fucking time.

I answer with a terse, "Cole."

"Sav," she deadpans.

"What took you so long?"

"Five in the morning? Are you serious?"

I grind my teeth. "It's urgent."

"Fucking your girlfriend hard is an emergency?" she asks with a dry chuckle.

"Just answer the question I asked you." I spear my fingers through my hair. "Could I have hurt her?"

She sighs. "Is there spotting or bleeding?"

"No." I clench my jaw. "I don't think so."

"Then it should be fine." She blows out another long breath. "What's gotten into you, Sav?"

My nostrils flare as I admit with animosity aimed at myself, "I got carried away."

"I'm not talking about fucking your girlfriend too hard."

I carry on walking. "Then what the hell are you saying?"

"It's not like you to lose control."

"Anya is different."

"Look, Sav." She pauses. "I know the baby isn't yours."

I stop. "So what the fuck about it?"

"What I'm asking is if you're with her for the right reasons." She continues in a gentler tone. "It happened really fast. The dust after the breakup with Rachele has barely settled. Are you sure you're not on the rebound?"

"No," I bite out, because what I have with Anya isn't about licking my wounds. It's nothing as trivial as that. Owning a person is much bigger.

"Then explain it to me."

I can't tell my clever doctor friend that holding Anya's life in my hands turns my dick harder than a steel rod. How do I explain that the little redhead is the only woman who gives me a spontaneous erection? I can't confess that my bed is both the most dangerous and safest place for my treasure. I can't say there are people who want her dead and that I'm keeping her safe for my own selfish reasons.

"Sav?" Nicole says, sounding rushed.

Continuing on my way, I choose my words carefully. "Anya has an effect on me like no one else."

"How did you even meet?"

"Does it matter?"

"I get why you're attracted to her. She's a beautiful woman. She seems sweet."

My agitation spikes. "But?"

"I know you. You're a possessive bastard, but the way you are with her is on a different level. You're behaving like a caveman with this woman, calling me at all hours of the morning."

Picking up my pace, I turn the corner and cross the street. "Your point is?"

"What happens when the father of the baby makes a claim on the child?"

That stops me dead in my tracks. "He won't."

"What makes you so sure? Maybe not now, but once the child is born, the reality of being a biological parent changes people's mindsets. I see it often in my occupation. Fathers who don't want anything to do with the baby when the mother is pregnant behave differently when they hold that little person they helped create for the first time." A warning creeps into her tone. "You know what they say. Blood is thicker than water." Her voice softens. "And you're not the father."

I ball my hands into fists. "I fucking know that."

"You and I both know you'll be a good parent. Considering the occupation you chose, that's not how it may seem from the outside. Anya is part of your world now, whether she wants to be or not. If the father sues for custody, he'd have a very strong chance of winning."

I hurry on, a new kind of disquiet eating into my gut. "Thank you for the heads up, Doc, but the only information I need from you concerns Anya's health."

"Don't be an asshole. I'm just watching out for you. I'd hate to see you get hurt again. You almost didn't survive the last round, and I don't mean physically. I mean emotionally."

"Thanks for your time," I say through thin lips.

"You're welcome. I won't say I told you so when the shit hits the fan."

I hang up and select a playlist, blasting the music through my earphones as I jog home, trying not to think about what Nicole said.

By the time I arrive at the top of my street, the worry that wreaks havoc with my mind is a two-headed monster. On the one hand, I can't stop thinking about Nicole's ominous prophecy, and on the other, I'm terrified that I've been too rough. My control where Anya is concerned is non-existent. I thought I had a handle on it, but the sight of her naked did things to me, and once I'd gotten inside her, I was like an uncontrollable beast.

Guilt assaults me as I stop on the sidewalk to let a car pass. A woman and a man sit in the front and two kids in the back. They're laughing, the woman saying something over her shoulder to the children while the man looks at her with pride.

I always wanted a big family. I love kids. From the time I was old enough to earn my own money, I dreamt about having a spacious house and filling it with babies. Four, at least. Why not six? I envied those numerous families at mass. I guess part of it comes from being an only child. I was lonely growing up. My father was always working, and my mother was too sick to spend time with me. She was diagnosed shortly after my birth. That's why I never had a brother or a sister. I thought Rachele and Giorgio were lucky to have one another, but they've never been close. If I had a sister, I'd spend as much time with her as I could. I'd walk her to school and carry her bag. I did that for Rachele because Giorgio neglected those duties. I would've given anything to have what he had or to be one of those six kids on the pew in church who went home to a warm kitchen and a big, noisy family meal.

An SUV pulls up. The guards stationed in front of the house change shifts. They greet me with a nod.

Pulling myself back to the present, I cross the road and go inside.

When I walk into the bedroom, the sound of running water comes from the shower. I strip, letting my clothes fall where they land, and head for the bathroom.

Anya's body is visible from behind the glass of the shower cubicle. Her curves are soft in the foggy layer that obscures the view.

She jerks when I open the door and get inside.

Brushing long, wet, fiery tendrils of hair from her face, she blinks away the drops of water that cling to her lashes. "You scared me."

I close the door. "I didn't mean to."

Her gaze drops to my groin. Yeah. I'm already hard for her. A glimpse of her naked figure through the glass is all it takes. The smell of her skin is enough to turn me on. At the mere thought of her, my cock threatens to strip my zipper and burst through the seams of my pants.

Apprehension flickers in her eyes when I step right up to her and frame her face between my hands. "How are you this morning?"

She frowns. "Fine."

"Sore?"

She shrugs. "A little."

I hold my breath, my heart beating out a strange rhythm in my chest. "Bleeding?"

She shakes her head.

Relief crashes through me, but for some reason, I don't feel better. "I tried to be gentle."

She takes my wrists and moves my hands away. "I know."

Turning her back on me, she tilts her face up and rinses shampoo suds from her hair.

If she thinks she's getting away that easily, she better think again.

I lock my fingers around her wrist and spin her around. "What happened last night is going to happen again." I cup her pussy with my free hand, resting my thumb on her clit. "So, if I hurt you, I want you to tell me."

She catches my biceps to keep her balance when I curl my middle finger and sink it up to the knuckle inside her. Her breathing quickens, enticing me to thrust and take her to that point that gives her pleasure and makes me high, but this isn't about that.

I pull out gently and bring my finger to my face. No blood. Only her arousal. And I'll be damned if all my reservations don't fly to the moon. Because she wants me.

"Anya."

I let her go and take a step backward. Give her a chance to escape.

But she doesn't.

She closes her hand around my cock and stares up at my face. Her features are so angelic, so fucking innocent, that I falter for a moment.

"What are you doing?" I say with a sound close to a growl, locking my fingers around hers where she grips my shaft.

"You said it yourself. It's going to happen again."

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to pump into her fist. I don't want her to misinterpret my meaning. "You do have a choice. Always."

She squeezes, making me hiss.

"I think it's gone way beyond that, Sav."

Fuck.

Spearing my fingers through her hair, I hold her in a tight grip. "Say it again."

"What?" she asks with a coquettish smile, stroking my length. "Sav?"

My cock twitches in her palm.

She presses a kiss on my pec and trails her free hand over my abs. "Do you want me to say your name when I do this?"

My muscles contract under the touch. She's waking a dangerous beast. I'm like a demon coming out of hibernation. If she knows how close I am to snapping, how close I am to breaking out of my cage, she'll run. Because the rough way in which I took her last night was gentle compared to what the animalistic side of me is capable of doing. Of what it wants. Toning down my need for her took immense self-control, and I still woke up terrified that I damaged her.

" Tesoro ," I say when she smooths her hand over the crest and all the way to the root.

"Sav," she breathes.

Fuck. I'm going to break. Snap.

I tighten my fingers in her hair, pulling on those silky roots. "Stop it."

Does she listen? No. She leans against me and rubs that pretty little pleasure button between her pussy lips with the tip of my cock just like I taught her last night.

Fire shoots up my pelvis.

She moans, her eyes tearing from my hold on her hair.

I'm hanging by the threads of my control. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

She blinks at me with those gorgeous whisky-colored eyes and gives me the beautiful, simple truth. "Because it feels good. Because I liked what you did last night."

That's it. That's where I break.

Wrapping my fingers harder around hers, I control the movement of her hand, using her soft palm to jerk off. My actions are staccato and far from graceful. They're urgent and frantic as I yank her closer and claim her mouth. She opens for me without hesitation. My kiss is as wild as my lust. I tangle our tongues and nip her bottom lip. The sweet taste of her free will fills my mouth with a coppery tang. Using her hair as leverage, I pull her head back for better access.

She goes on tiptoes and wraps an arm around my neck. I let go of her hair and the hand she's got wrapped around my cock to cup her ass. My balls draw tight when she flattens her naked tits on my chest and slides my cock between her legs to grind her pussy on my length. When she holds my gaze and sinks down to her knees, my pulse goes into overdrive.

She kneels on the tiles and takes my cock back into her hand before guiding the head to her lips. I nearly come as she licks the crest. I tangle my fingers in her hair and close them into fists. It's all I can do to hold back and not shove my cock down her throat.

She stretches her lips to accommodate me, taking as much as she can while stroking the rest with a lazy pace. Her moan hits me like an arrow straight in the gut. She curls her hot, wet tongue around the crest and sucks. Two more licks, and white-hot pleasure builds inside me.

I don't warn her. I'm too greedy for her to swallow. I'm a selfish bastard like that. The force of my release nearly cripples me when I hold her fast and shoot the first load. Her slender throat bobs as she battles to swallow without chocking on my cock. I don't want to take it too far and trigger her nausea, so I pull out and paint her chin and tits with ribbons of cum.

Before I'm empty, I haul her to her feet with my hands under her armpits, bend my knees, and sink into her tight velvet heat. She's so wet I slide in easily, a lot easier than last night. She clings to me as I finish inside her, pumping until I've spilled every drop.

My dick is empty but still harder than granite. I fuck her with long, leisurely thrusts until her moans drown out the sound of the water and she cuts her nails into the skin of my shoulders.

"Sav," she cries out when I reach between our bodies and pinch her clit gently.

"Yes, goddamn." I increase my pace. "Come for me, Anya. Just for me."

Her inner muscles squeeze my cock, wrenching more pleasure from my spent body. I cup her face and tilt back her head so that I can stare into her eyes when she comes. Her pupils dilate, and she gets that far-off look when your vision goes unfocused. I let her ride it out, making her take everything, and when she sags in my hold, I pull her close and wrap my arms around her.

I kiss the top of her head. "You're so pretty when you come."

I want to stay inside her, but the water is turning lukewarm. Making quick work of cleaning us, I soap and rinse our bodies. Then I take a towel from the warming rack and wrap her up before she catches a cold.

She twists another towel around her hair and walks from the bathroom without a backward glance. Why that bothers me, I have no idea. Maybe it's the notion of being used. I may as well just be scratching an itch for her. It's exactly what I'm doing, using her for my selfish needs, but when the roles are reversed, I don't like the idea. Not one fucking bit.