Alessandro |18+|

43

ARIA

One week later

"Mm," I moaned, "Yes, just like that-fuck," I whispered, letting my head fall slack as I closed my eyes.

"Is that good?" Sandro asked, his lips just a few inches away from my ear as his skilful fingers massaged the space between my neck and shoulders. It was really fucking good-instantly releasing all the tension that built up over the past few days.

I nodded my head, feeling him slide his fingers over my moisturised skin. He applied the perfect amount of pressure, using his knuckles and the sensation was pure bliss. My eyes rolled back, my lips falling apart.

Sandro had been pampering me for a week straight after the incident, spoiling me rotten and always making sure I was okay. I thought he was protective before, but it only managed to get worse after we found out what Kian tried to do to me. I didn't think about it too much, he got what he deserved and that was it.

Sandro's protectiveness wasn't an issue, not at all. The issue came in when I realised that I couldn't be away from him. I craved his presence. His touch. Always. It would've been a problem if Sandro had any complaints, but he didn't and told me numerous times that he enjoyed it-in fact, he loved it.

There was a night in the week when Sandro had to supervise a trade-off in the early hours of the dark morning, and I had to lay in bed all alone in his penthouse. I couldn't sleep until he got home and cuddled into me.

Sandro also felt terrible and guilty that he owned the club where girls were being violated right underneath his nose. He shut it down immediately and ordered a thorough investigation.

I told him that it wasn't his fault and he wasn't responsible for the actions of others. In a way, we were each other's support structure. He had long days at work, vented to me and fucked me until I nearly passed out.

In the mornings, I made him his favourite breakfast. Balance. Everything was starting to feel natural, and Alessandro quickly became my everything. There wasn't a thing I wouldn't do for him.

"That feels so good. Thank you so, so fucking much," I groaned, rolling my neck as Sandro continued to give me an orgasm worthy massage.

He chuckled, "It's that good, huh? I'm happy you're enjoying it, bellissima. You can always ask me to do this for you, I don't mind."

There he goes again, giving me those butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I smiled at him and lifted my head. Sandro had a soft grin on his face when he leaned down to kiss me.

His lips were smooth, full and cold from the watermelon we were munching on. That was another regular thing for us. I fed him fruit while he had his hands on me in either a massage, or when he did my hair. Which he seemed to love doing.

"I can see the love in your eyes, baby. You have no idea-no idea how that makes me feel," he whispered, clasping his hand underneath my jaw to kiss me harder and I felt my heart racing in my chest. I was happy that he knew how much I loved him.

"I do love you," I said, and I felt his lips stretch into a small smile.

"I love you, more," he said, giving me one last peck. I took his hand, giving his knuckles a kiss. Sandro didn't mind that I showed him soft affection. He liked when I kissed his fingers, or laid his head on my chest.

Sometimes, he loved being the little spoon.

In a way, Sandro was a giant softie with tattoos and a gun on his waist who needed reassurance every now and then. Unless we were naked, because that's when his rough side showed itself.