It's still Pietro's POV so I'll get to it, cause Victoria seems to be having some fun whilst I'm over here recapping~
"Leave you idiots!" I hated their stares. I wanted Victoria alone. Not with Donella's hateful scrutinizing and Marco smirking knowingly.
"Pi-Pietro... breathe-TZCHEN!" My head spun to Victoria who swayed while sitting on a bed. What the hell happened now? I saw her hands reach out for mine, but didn't quite cover the distance.(sweetheart)
SH*T! I made my way to her almost instantly, pressing her small frame onto the pillows once more. "OUT!" Eyes still trained on il mio Tesoro, the words left my mouth as a growl aimed for the three onlookers. (my darling)
The sound of feet scurrying away and a lock clicking settled me down slightly, but now I wanted answers I knew only Victoria could give me. Or satisfaction only she can give.
My irises became a swirling chestnut-chocolate, showing intense emotions all at once.
Victoria focused her gaze on the fuming fire, her eyes reflecting its yellow hues making her beautiful blue eyes mysterious and strange.
"Look at me, Tesoro."
She flutters her eyes to the curtains.
"Look at me!" She knows she's getting on my nerves. I never tolerate disobedience, but from her... it always seems to turn me on.
Her blue orbs flickered to the ceiling.
"Look at me G*d dammit!" My nose twitches, my fingers tingle.
Victoria strained her gaze upon something in the distance.
"Look at me or so f**king help me God!" My voice came out civil and calm, but she got the message. She met my fierce stare but I caught the subtle eyeroll. F**k this 'nice guy' sh*t! I am so hard right now!
Looked pissed. Looked pissed! You may be so damn turned on, but show anger. She rolled her eyes!
"Did you just roll your God-forsaken eyes at me, Tesoro?" I pushed myself off the bed to stand beside her. My lips curling up into a smirk. "Do I have to remind you who's boss? Il mio piccolo sottomesso," I raised my eyebrows as if daring her to answer me.(Darling? My little submissive)
Victoria's irises seemed to darken to a navy, filled with lustful desire and implied knowledge. "N-non signore!" She remembered her role. Given to her six years ago. My sweet sweet submissive.
"Strip."
She hesitated, seemingly determined to defy me. To go against me. The rosy-pink flesh of her lips parted in a slack-jaw manner, her eyes going wide.
"I said strip, il mio Tesoro. Or do I have to repeat myself?" I fisted my hands just to keep them from wandering, from feeling, from doing it for her. (my Darling)
She remained unmoving. Reluctant. Resilient. Spunky.
The fabric of her dress tore like a thin sheet of paper, smooth and easy. It pulled at her sides, leaving her open to the air. Open to the light. Open to me.
She wore only black lace underwear. No bra. Her creamy skin darkened and her rounded bust flattening. I couldn't help it, I was so f**king turned on. And she saw. She noticed the sparks ignited, my ever present arousal, the augmented attraction and tension.
She wanted me as much as I wanted her.
"Cosi bella," I watched her eye me as my fingers glided down my shirt, unbuttoning each and every button. Slowly. Seductively. Controlled. "Ho perso questa vista."(So beautiful. I've missed this view)
She gazed up at me, checking me out. Her blue orbs slightly shielded by mascara-curled lashes. And yet I saw them rake over my chest, the tattoos that covered my torso, then to my arms, and finally my hands. I stood before her, clad in only dress pants and my shoes, and purposely flexing every so often.
Victoria snapped her mouth shut, licking the corner of her lips at an attempt to remove the slight trickle of drool. "Ugh! Vhy six years! That's too dang long!" She groaned out, annoyed and aroused.
"Like what you see?" I bent down to her level, locking eyes with her.
She forced a nod.
My feet lead me to the edge of the bed, in line with Victoria's heated body. Yes, I could smell and see her arousal. Drenched panties. Flushed cheeks. Biting of bottom lip.
I leaned forward, over the bed, feeling the satin sheets under my coarse palms. Moving my hands upward, I settled my knees on the bed and crawled. Like a lion preparing to pounce. Like a child before they jumped out of the shadows to spook their sibling.
Victoria's eyes followed my every movement. From my veins to my muscles. Until they once more clicked with my swirling chestnut orbs.
She looked edible. Coma una fregola immersa nel cioccolato bianco e macchiato di mirtilli. (Like a strawberry dipped in white chocolate and smeared in blueberries)
I parted her legs with mine, resting my weight on my forearms that I had laid on either side of her head. "Glad I found you il mio Tesoro," dipping down to capture her plump peachy pink lips, a sweet sensation filled my body and made a house down below. So f*cking sweet, like candy, like a chocolate covered strawberry. (My Darling)
Her mouth gapped open and met mine with equal fervor. A kissing of intimacy missed, of touch longed for, of love restricted to a phone call.
I drifted down, pecking her jaw, nibbling at her neck and collarbone as I slid her dress from her shoulders and onto the bedding. The tiny cavities of her neck and the millions of freckles that lay scattered on her porcelain skin reminded me of the first time. Reminded me of the pain of these 6years apart. Reminded me of how sh*tty I was to her, how she hurt more from me not physically being there. Reminded me that she still held strong for me through the millions of cavities that happened in her life in those six years.
"I missed you," her words ricocheted. Off the walls. Off the silence. Off my ears and to my heart. "I missed you Tzchen."(sweetheart)
The nickname she calls me on the phone, the German phrase that haunted my nights, the six letter word that carried with it six years of distance. I trailed my lips down her chest, between her valley making her whimper. "Six years was too long, but we needed it. I needed it," I mumbled against her warm flesh sending shivers down her body.
Victoria brought cupped my head in her hands, tugging me up to her lips but only letting them brush together. "You and I both know it wasn't either of their faults. We weren't even there so we can't say anything."
She made it sound like a good thing that we didn't witness their deaths, that we here skin to skin. Her voice that pleaded for my understanding only worsened the guilt I've developed over the years. If I was there I could've stopped them from dying, from making me Don at 20 and not the fully prepared and developed age of 21 or even later. If I was there I might not have become a heavy drinker who smoked away his bachelor years and ordered his mafia to do the scariest sh*t that nearly killed them.
"You're right."
CLIFF HANGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jk. Y'all know what goes down. Just not this man's thoughts. ;) Vote, comment, recommend! Love you my sweets!
Peace out~ Gen
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Hatred to love
RomanceThis is a work in progress. Comments and corrections are welcomed :)
