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“Don’t stop…” I panted, those familiar sensations beginning to take over. “God…don’t stop…”
“Are you going to cum on my face?” he asked in between licks. “Are you going to make a mess, baby?”
“Yes…”
Aurelio’s tongue went back to work, and when he slid a third finger into my ass, my hands tightened in his hair, and I cursed my cracked rib. I wanted this man inside of me, branding me deeply, reminding me that this was real, but I knew that he wouldn’t, no matter how much I begged. He wasn’t taking my injuries very well, so anything more would probably send him right over the edge.
His thumb replaced his tongue, allowing him to say, “As soon as you’re better, I’m fucking your ass. I’m going to fuck your ass, and you’re going to take it like a good girl.”
“God, yes…” I choked out as I felt my orgasm coiling in the pit of my being.
“I’m going to please every inch of your body, and then I’m going to cover you in my cum, so that you never forget who you belong to again,” he practically hissed.
“Aurelio…”
My rib cried out in pain as the rest of my body shook with pleasure, Aurelio sliding a second finger inside my ass, two digits in each hole, consuming me through my orgasm, the need for him greater than a cracked rib or fractured life. All that mattered was how Aurelio made me feel, and he made me feel everything, even when he wasn’t trying to.
“Fuck, baby…” he hissed. “You’re fucking beautiful when you cum.”
I wasn’t sure how long my orgasm lasted, but when it was finally done controlling my body, I felt Aurelio’s body heat engulf me from head to toe, and when I opened my eyes, he was staring down at me, his black gaze seeing right through me. As I looked up at him, I could spend days listing all of my regrets, but there’d be no point. I could say sorry until there was no more breath left in my lungs, but it would change nothing. No amount of arguing, begging, crying, or wallowing would change a goddamn thing, and Aurelio knew it as well as I did.
So, in light of not being able to escape reality, I said the only thing that I could. “I love you.”
“I love you more than my own life,” he replied.
After three years, we were finally back where we always should have been.
Chapter 37
Aurelio~
Savina was lying on the bed, wearing only my shirt, and if I could keep her like this forever, I would. However, because I knew that I couldn’t, while Savina had been in the shower, I had called Carlo to imposition his wife again. I’d given her a hundred-thousand dollars and Savina’s sizes to go buy her some clothes first thing in the morning, and I had also thrown in another fifty-thousand dollars for her time. Now, while she would have done it for free, her husband worked for the family, not her.
I also knew that the death of Ashton Oliver would be all over the place by tomorrow-if not already-so Savina didn’t need to be out and about, even if she was safe here. The press had free reign of the land, so they were everywhere, no matter which territory the story was taking place.
“You need to get some rest,” I told her as my hand traced a path up and down her bare thigh.
“Trust me, I’m not trying to stay awake,” she murmured. “I’m tired as hell.”
Just then, her phone started ringing in her purse, and we both eyed each other, wondering who in the hell would be calling her so late at night. Not to mention, it was her burner phone, so no one should have her number besides me and the police. Granted, with the way that the police weren’t on her side, they could have given it out, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d had. Again, they had no choice but to side with Congressman Oliver.
“Stay right there,” I told her as I got up to go grab her phone for her.
When I pulled it out of her purse, I didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was a familiar one. So, it was either the police calling her, or else Stewart Oliver had gotten her number. Honestly, with the exception of Ashton’s mother or brother, I couldn’t think of who else would phone her this late at night, especially after everything that’d just happened.
I handed Savina the phone, then told her, “Put it on speaker.”
She nodded before swiping to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Savina, this is Stewart Oliver,” came a hardened voice on the other end.
“How…how did you get this number?”
“Really?” he bit out. “In case you’re unaware, the police are a political entity that work for the state, Savina. When I explained to Detective Lakelet that I needed to speak with you, he was accommodating enough to give me your new phone number.”
“Did he also explain that it’s probably not a good idea for us to be speaking to one another?” she replied coolly.
“He did,” Stewart admitted. “However, he’s not the one mourning a dead son, so he’s hardly in a place to give me advice on what’s best right now.”
