KATARINA
For the first time in a long time, I slept without dreams.
My mind simply shut off, and I rested in absolute deep, velvet dark.
When I woke, I panicked.Where was I?The room around me was strange, and the bed was hard. I was hot, too hot, and there was something around my neck that felt like a restraint.
Then, he shifted slightly in his sleep, and I registered his scent all around me, and my positioning made sense.
Massimo.
He held me against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, barely allowing me any space to shuffle away. Even in his sleep, he held on tight.
Yesterday flooded back. Benedict and the gun, the madness in his eyes. I shivered violently, the memory of the blood splashing against the tile walls taking me back to three years ago, and Mira.
I’m getting them, Mira. One by one.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, and found tears forming. I couldn’t stop them. A sob left my throat. I cringed, not wantingMassimo to wake up and see me crying. It was too pathetic. Why had I always been so weak?
But the avalanche of tears and the dump of trauma blindsiding me when I didn’t have my defenses up was too much to hold back.
So, I gave in. I cried. I sobbed. My tears soaked through my pillow. The fabric scratched my cheek. My body shook. I knew I should get up and move away from Massimo before I woke him. I was suddenly desperate to do that. To huddle in a corner and break down alone.
But when I tried to escape, his arms closed tighter around me, holding me to him.
I tapped his arm.
“Let me go,” I pleaded through my tears.
“No.” His low growl was immediate. His arms only grew tighter, forcing me against his chest, surrounding me with his warmth.
I twisted as much as I could to push at his hip glued to my back.
“Let go!”
He caught my hand and suddenly shifted away, making me fall flat to the mattress. His body slid across mine, his hands circling my wrists, and pinned me underneath him.
His dark-eyed gaze tracked across my hot, tearstained face. “If you’re going to fall apart, you’ll do it in my arms.”
“Why?” I burst out, irritation pressing through my sadness. I squirmed against him, shoving with all my might, but it was no use. There was no getting away from him and his pitch black gaze. I was laid bare, and there was nowhere to hide.
“So I can catch all the pieces,” he murmured softly.
I stilled at those words, my protests clogged in my aching throat. My heart fluttered.
“What?” I whispered.
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me.
This time, his kiss was gentle, coaxing me from the dark place I’d woken up in and pulling me from my painful memories.
“Angels shouldn’t cry, not over men like Benedict. It’s unholy,” he said, and traced his lips over my cheeks, pressing kisses to the trails of my tears.
I became aware of how heavy he was, and how his body touched mine in all the right places.
He was hard, long and thick, lying right between my legs against my core. I writhed, sliding my pussy over that delicious hardness, instinctively reaching for something I’d only ever imagined but never experienced. I wanted the clothes between us gone. I wanted his hot skin on mine. I didn’t want to think anymore. I just wanted to feel.
His hand cupped my cheek, then slid back and gripped the hair at my nape. He tilted my head back and kissed me deeper. Hungrier. As he did, he thrust his hips into me, rubbing me just right.