Chapter Eight

Coda"s mouth is dangerous, his taste an addiction that lures me deeper every time his lips touch mine. I wrap my body around his, clinging to his broad shoulders as heat flashes to steam and the living room fades away around me. All that"s left is him and his mouth.

I slip my hand between us, reaching for his cock. Greedy for it.

I"m nearly to heaven when his rough hand grasps mine with steely resolve, steering me away.

"Karina," he whispers, a warning and a plea.

"I need you," I plead, not above begging to get what I want—what I need. It"s been a week since the accident, and he"s barely touched me. Every single time things start heating up between us, he suddenly finds somewhere else to be. The worst of my injuries are healing—the scratches and bruises fading. Even the concussion isn"t really a problem now. But he refuses to relent. "I"m not going to shatter, Coda."

But he"s immovable—refusing to give in even though I feel how hard he is for me.

"Karina, please." His thumb sweeps my bottom lip in a gesture meant to soothe, but it only makes me burn hotter. "I can"t—I won"t hurt you."

"Too late," I whisper, feeling vulnerable with him in a way I never have before now. "You look at me like I"m made of glass, Coda. But I"m not. I"m here—flesh, blood, and wanting you."

He tenses as if waging some internal war, but he doesn"t talk to me, and he doesn"t kiss me again, either. And for the first time, doubt creeps in.

Maybe it"s not that he thinks I"m made of glass. Maybe it"s simply that he doesn"t want me. Maybe the problem isn"t him. It"s me.

I wrench myself from his arms, tears welling in my eyes. He reaches for me, but I evade, quickly putting distance between us.

"Just leave me alone," I whisper. My traitorous voice cracks, shouting my misery into the room.

"Karina, talk to me," he urges, his voice soft.

But I"m done talking. I"m done begging. I"m done asking him to want me enough when he clearly doesn"t. Whether it"s fear or something else—it"s winning. He"s letting it win.

I ignore him, staring out of the window at the city below.

His hands, rough and unyielding, wrap around me from behind, pulling me up against his chest. His arms are like an iron bars, anchoring me in place. His heart pounds against my spine. This isn"t a tender embrace, an apology. He"s pissed.

Good. That makes two of us.

"Let me go!" I demand, thrashing within his grasp. But he holds me tighter, his strength absolute and terrifying in its gentleness.

"Never, so you might as well stop fucking ignoring me." The rough growl of his voice vibrates through me as he spins me in his arms to face him.

I try to avert my face to hide my tears, but he sees them anyway.

"Jesus, Karina." The hardness in his voice crumbles away, leaving only naked horror. His hands shake as they come up to cup my face, thumbs brushing away the wet trails on my cheeks. "Please, don"t cry," he pleads, his voice shaking as hard as his hands. "I can"t stand it."

"Then stop treating me like I"ll shatter!" My sob is half anger, half plea, all of it burning with need. "If you don"t w-want me anymore, just say it. But don"t keep treating me like I"m glass, Coda. It"s not fair."

His gentle touch lingers on my skin, a painful contrast to the merciless way he"s been guarding his own heart. His eyes lock on mine, dark and bottomless pools. He"s listening—really listening this time. There"s a reverence in his silence that stills my tremors.

"I need you more than I need air, angioletta." His confession sends shockwaves through me. "You think I don"t want you? Every time I"m near you, my dick is hard. I want you so fucking desperately I can"t control it."

"I…"

One quirked brow silences me. "But I love you too much to be selfish with you, cara. The thought of hurting you after everything you"ve already been through tears me apart. I can"t lose you. The accident…" he trails off, discomposed in a way he"s never been before, shaken to his core. "I could have lost you. It"s fucking haunting me."

My heart races, pounding against my ribcage like a jackhammer. The intensity of his declaration is terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. This beautiful, complicated man is afraid, perhaps for the first time in his life. He loves me.

"Did you mean that?" The question slips out before I can call it back. I"m desperate for every piece of him, greedy with the need to belong to him in every way. I want his heart, every single piece of it. "Do you really love me, Coda?"

"Yes." There"s no hesitation in his response. It"s a vow, devoted and sure. The truth reflects in his eyes. He means it. "Ti amo. I love you, Karina. More than anything."

Tears spill over again, blurring my vision. "Then why are you shutting me out? It hurts, Coda. Every time you shut me down, it hurts me. Don"t you understand? I feel the same thing you do. The same need, the same ache. I need you—I need your strength, your touch, your…everything."

He looks stricken, as if he never considered that I might love him with the same intensity. That I might need him with the same ferocity. And in that moment, I see the fear in his eyes, the struggle between the man who has spent too long in the dark and the man who loves me hot enough to set the world aflame, and I understand what he"s truly afraid of. Himself. Now that he"s come face to face with the realization that I"m breakable, he no longer trusts himself not to break me.

"I love all of you," I whisper, giving him my trust since he has none of his own. He could never break me. He isn"t capable of it. "I trust you."

His groan rumbles through the room, a primal sound that ignites a wildfire in my veins. His lips crash against mine with a hunger that feels like redemption, fierce and unyielding.

"Karina," he whispers against my lips, his voice laced with a dark promise. "I need you. Now."

Yes. God, yes.

Finally.

His hands roam my body with a rough ownership that sets my soul on fire. His fingers dig into my flesh, branding his possession into me as he hasn"t in days. I revel in the pain that intertwines so perfectly with pleasure.

I claw at his clothes, desperation guiding me as I fight for the heat of his skin against mine. I want it, need it, have to have it now.

Our breaths mingle, hot and erratic, as we strip each other with frantic urgency.

He lifts me effortlessly, claiming his throne—a leather armchair in front of the windows. I straddle him, the cool air of the living room a stark contrast to the scorching heat of our naked bodies. My gaze locks with his green eyes.

"Look at you, mio angelo oscuro," he murmurs, his finger trailing a deliberate path down the center of my chest all the way to my core. He plunges it into me, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. "So fucking perfect."

"Please, Coda…" The plea escapes me, raw and edged with a need only this man can satisfy.

"Apri le gambe," he growls. "Spread your legs, cara."

I scramble to obey, steadying myself with my hands on his shoulders as I spread my legs for him.

"Every part of you is mine to take." He pulls his finger out of me, my juices soaking it. With his eyes locked on mine, he quests lower, pressing it against my back entrance.

My head falls back on a moan as he breaches that entrance, sending pleasure and pain through me in a delicious dance. His finger presses in deeper, stretching, claiming, while he grips his shaft with the other, easing me down onto him.

"Ride me," he growls. "Don"t stop, cara. Feel what it"s like to have me everywhere at once, claiming every part of you."

I"m helpless to do anything but obey, driven to the brink by the need. Our rhythm is frenzied, every thrust driven by a hunger that consumes and eclipses everything in its path. All that"s left is want and need and take and claim—him and me as we were meant to be.

This is what I"ve wanted, what I"ve needed.

"Say it again," I demand, my voice breaking with the way he fucks me.

"I love you," he snarls, thrusting up into me with a force that robs me of breath. "More than my own life. You"re my salvation."

And he might be my damnation. But this right here, this is where I belong.

I bounce on his thighs, each thrust sending electricity sparking along every nerve ending in my body. Each press of his fingers in my ass sends me spiraling further and further from reality.

"Karina." His voice is a ragged whisper. His eyes are fathomless pools, drawing me deeper under his spell as he drives into me again and again.

"Look at me," I moan, no longer the innocent girl he found at the party, but someone else. What did he call me? Mio angelo obscuro. Yes. His dark angel. His queen.

Our gazes lock, and the world falls away.

"Karina, amore mio," he groans, his movements growing more frantic. His grip more possessive. "I"m—"

"Let go, Coda. Together," I whisper, feeling like I"m going to break apart and scatter into a million stars.

His grip tightens on me, my name a prayer on his lips. I breathe his as we come undone, reaching heaven together.

"Ti amo," he breathes against my ear, sending aftershocks rippling through me as he writhes in ecstasy. "Ti amo."

"I love you," I whisper back, my heart overflowing with love for this beautiful, complicated, perfect man who doesn"t trust himself but trusts me enough for the both of us.

As we come down, we cling to each other, gasping for air, complete in a way we"ve never been. And in this moment, everything we still have to face—my father and his crimes—doesn"t seem nearly that big.

They can"t defeat us. We"re unbreakable.