Page 62 of Liberated By Sin
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Amarahad nodded off, her head resting on my shoulder, and her soft breaths the only noise filling the room. I lay back and stared at the ceiling, working my fingers through the sleeping cat’s fur. Phoenix had warmed up to me in the hour since I’d been there—though I suspected it was because I’d snuck her a piece of pancake when Amara wasn’t looking.
My soft laughter shook them both, and I worried I’d wake them. I hardly recognized myself when I was with this woman. With anyone else, if I hadn’t fucked in forty-eight hours max, I’d have been long gone. But somehow, I knew she needed time, and even crazier was that I was willing to wait. Maybe a month ago, that thought alone would have been enough cause to sign over ownership and run back to Italy.
Che tragedia.
Tragedy indeed.
The image of her in my lap, coming apart as she used me, had been on a constant loop in my thoughts. I’d give anything to hear her sweet little noises again as my name dripped from her tongue.
I carefully slid the cat from my lap, held Amara’s weight as I stood, and gently lay her on the sofa. I’d return her key tomorrow—well, later tonight.
As I stepped away, she reached out and caught my fingers.
“Don’t go,” she whispered, staring up at me. “Take me to my room, Santino.”
I knew at that moment there wasn’t anything she’d ask of me that I wouldn’t do. Without hesitation, I scooped her up and started for the hallway.
“Which way?”
“Last door on the left.”
I kicked her bedroom door closed as I stepped through, delegating Phoenix to the living room for the time being.
The space was dark, illuminated only by a balcony light that filtered through curtains ruffled by a light wind. Even through the darkness, I could see the room was simple, with mostly bare walls. The exception was a vanity adorned with makeup, perfume, and other accessories.
A large, upholstered bed stood in the middle of the space. I sat her at the edge, and she reached up, untucked my shirt, and started on the buttons.
Her fingers shook slightly. She was nervous. “Amara—”
“Can I ask you something?” she said, rising to her knees as she continued to work her way up.
“Anything.”
“Please don’t ask me if I’m sure…because I’m not. I won’t ever be. And that’s an honest answer.”
I wanted her to open up, but I’d follow her lead, however fast or slow. With her gaze locked on mine, Amara grabbed the hem of her sweater and discarded the top on the floor by my feet. My eyes fell on the swell of her breasts and tight nipples.
“Bellissima,” I murmured into her ear, pressing my thumb over a hardened peak. She tensed beneath my touch momentarily before pulling open my shirt and shoving it down my arms.
“So many,” she breathed as her finger trailed lightly over the ink on my chest.
“They tell a story. Every chapter of my life is painted on my flesh.” I tugged her closer and kissed her shoulder. “I thought I was done…but maybe I was wrong.”
As I moved my lips up the length of her neck, Amara tipped her head back and closed her eyes, nails digging into my arms.
“Yeah?”
I climbed into the bed and over her body as she lay back. “Yeah,” I replied, pressing my lips to her stomach and taking a moment to inhale the fresh scent of her skin. But as I lowered my mouth again, I noticed she trembled. My first thought was the open balcony door, but the breeze was warm, and I didn’t see a single goosebump.
Everything suddenly came into focus. Her hands were in fists, clutching the sheets, and her eyes shut tightly as she seemed to be trying to settle her breathing.
“Preziosa, you’re shaking. Is everything okay?”
She took in a shuddering breath, released the bedsheet, and reached for my hand.
“I’m sorry. I-I’ve never been with anyone…” she trailed off, eyes slowly opening and finding mine. “By choice.”