Page 42 of ‘I Do’ for Revenge
She knew it was already too late. He’d sneaked in under her skin and she was falling for him. And it was so humiliating because he’d stood her up at the altar in front of all of society, and the only reason he was still indulging her was because for some crazy reason he fancied her, but underneath that was the very obvious guilt he felt that he’d punished her along with her uncle. And she was still a Gavia. Vito would never commit to anything permanent with someone from his sworn enemy’s family.
The minute he stopped fancying her, she’d be an unwelcome guest. There couldn’t be less holding them together. Lust and guilt. And yet, as hurt as she was by his very obvious wish for her not to push the boundaries, he was the first person who had come into her life and seen her for herself, uniquely. Fatally, she knew she couldn’t walk away. Not yet. His desire for her was calling to the deepest part of her where she’d locked herself away to avoid being hurt for so many years.
She was blooming to life under his gaze and even as she knew it was futile, all she could do was pray that he wasn’t the only person who would ever make her feel like this. Desired.Seen.Because of one thing she was certain—Vittorio Vitale did not share the same depth of feelings.
That night when they returned to the apartment after the show, there was a silent intensity to their lovemaking, as if today had been a marker on the ground signifying that the end was nigh.
Flora shuddered against Vito as the powerful waves of her orgasm ripped through her body with Vito not far behind, his powerful body jerking in the throes of his own climax.
He lay over her, in her, for a long moment. Flora’s legs and arms were wrapped around him and she knew she should move but she couldn’t seem to. She knew that she was selfishly storing up these little moments so that she could take them out at a later date when this was all a distant memory.
Eventually, though, Vito pulled free of Flora’s embrace but, to her surprise, he lifted her up and out of the bed with him, bringing her into the bathroom. He put her down gently and turned on the shower, the space filling with steam as the hot water ran.
He pulled her in with him and she protested weakly, ‘My hair!’
Vito said, ‘It’s fine.’
Flora turned her face up to the spray, giving into Vito’s ministrations as he washed her and her hair. His big hands running over every inch of her body, breasts, belly, hips, between her legs, until she was hot and slippery all over again.
When he was done, she lathered up her hands and explored his body, revelling in the freedom she had to trace her hands and fingers over hard muscles and powerful buttocks. And the muscle between his legs, standing stiff and proud. She wrapped a hand around him as his mouth found hers, and he put a hand between her legs, fingers seeking and finding where she ached, and together, with their breathing getting faster and faster, they came to climax again under the hot spray.
Afterwards, Vito’s head was resting on the wall, over Flora’s. He said with a half-chuckle, ‘I didn’t actually intend for anything but washing ourselves.’ He moved back and tipped up her chin. Water was running in rivulets down his face and neck, onto his chest. Even though she was sated beyond anything imaginable, Flora already wanted to put her tongue there and follow them down his body.
‘But,’ he said, ‘you’re impossible not to touch, to want. What are you doing to me, woman?’
‘I could say the same of you.’ Flora felt prickly and vulnerable and still a little hurt after what had happened earlier.
Vito looked at her for a long moment but then broke the contact, turning off the water and moving out of the shower, taking a towel and wrapping it around Flora’s body then taking another towel and rubbing her hair, before wrapping it up turban style.
Then Vito roughly dried himself, and, naked, led her back to the bed. She stopped in her tracks. ‘I should probably go to my own room. My hair is damp.’
Vito looked at her. Flora’s heart thumped. Since she’d been with him she’d shared his bed, his room. But now, maybe it was time to start putting some distance between them.
Vito’s hand tightened on hers. She had a sense that he was going to agree with her, but then he said, ‘You’re not going anywhere, unless you want to.’
Putting it up to her. Flora knew she should break the contact, put some space between them, but fatally she heard herself saying, ‘No, it’s okay. I’ll stay.’
They got back into the bed. A taut silence stretched between them. Flora was simultaneously deliciously tired but also energised. She also felt, after what had happened, and the way Vito had so brutally rejected her gift, a certain recklessness.
She turned on her side and put her head on her hand, studying him. But as she did, something inside her melted. His eyes were closed and his lashes were long on his cheeks. Face softened but no less stunningly handsome in rest. A hint of stubble lined his jaw. His nose was aquiline, and she wanted to trace its noble shape.
She thought of a small, dark-haired version of Vito, with his impenetrable eyes and intense nature, and to her surprise a yearning rose up inside her and it terrified her, because she’d never gone so far as to imagine having a family of her own. And what that would be like. The thought of it now felt akin to standing on the edge of a large canyon and taking a step out into thin air. Free-falling into space. With nothing to hold onto.
Vito made a small move and Flora tensed, imagining him waking and finding her like this—daydreaming of a future that could never be. But then he snored gently, indicating that he was already asleep, and Flora made a decision. She got out of the bed again, and silently made her way to the bedroom she’d never slept in. It was time to face up to the inevitable.
CHAPTER TEN
‘YOUWEREN’TINthe bed this morning.’
Flora avoided Vito’s eye at the breakfast table. ‘No, I, ah, felt bad about my hair getting the sheets damp so I moved into the other bedroom.’
‘Is this going to be a regular occurrence?’
Flora forced herself to look at him and her heart flipped over. He was clean-shaven. She said, ‘I think it’s probably a good idea.’
After a long moment Vito said, ‘You’re probably right.’
Then Flora said mischievously, ‘Actually, it’s because you snore.’