Page 29 of Wanton

"Don't say it if you don't mean it,bella," I whisper…plead.Cristo. Yes, I plead. Because I won't fucking survive if she changes her mind later and tries to kick me out of her heart. I need her. More than air or water or fucking life.

She's the one thing in this world that makes it worth saving. That makesmeworth saving. My brothers and I…we're damned. But thisbella principessamakes me feel like there's some hope for a future that isn't bleak. There's hope for salvation. This world doesn't have to be destruction and devastation. We don't have to dismantle to win. We can build.We can be rebuilt.

And if I still get cast into hell, at least I'll go knowing what it means to be complete. I'll go knowing what it's like to hold the world in my arms and see forever in her eyes. She's my soul, the one thing in this world that brings me peace. The only fucking thing that gives me hope.

I need her to survive.

"Don't say it if you don't mean it," I whisper again.

She turns in my arms, placing her palm against my cheek. Her amber sirens' eyes meet mine, dragging me even deeper under her spell. "Ti amo, Luca," she breathes, the words so soft I strain to hear them. But my heart does. Fuck. My heart does.

"Cristo," I growl, wrapping her hair in my fist. I crane her head back, tugging until her eyes darken. "Say it again,bella."

"Ti amo."

"Again."

"Ti amo."

She means it. The truth is painted across every beautiful line of her face. It spills from her eyes in two drops, making tracks down her round cheeks. She's mine. Finally, this beautiful little princess is mine.

I drag her into my arms, pressing my mouth to hers in fervent devotion. I taste her tears on my lips and claim them as mine. God made perfection when he crafted her. Sweet enough to soften this world, fierce enough to survive it, brave enough to conquer it. Aprincipessato her core.

I tug the top of her t-shirt aside, planting my lips against the side of her neck as my hands roam down her body, exploring every lush curve.

We work together to strip her, leaving her in nothing but the moonlight shining through the windows and the glow of the lamp behind us.

"Place your hands on the glass,bella."

She lifts them slowly, trembling like the sweetest little lamb. I nuzzle her throat, nipping at her collarbone. She's been using my soap, but she smells sweet there, as if not even my scent masks the essence of her.

My thumbs roll over her hard nipples, earning a throaty moan from her. I pinch, tweaking them just enough to make it sting.

"Luca!" she sobs, her hands slipping on the glass. She arches into my hands, silently pleading for more.

"You like a little pain too,bella."

"Yes."

I smile. It wasn't a question. I know she does. I've been learning her. What she likes. What makes her go wild for me. What makes her come so hard she can't move. She likes being pinned down. She likes pain.

My princess is a dirty little thing.

I always wondered why nothing ever appealed to me. No kink I saw, no show I watched. None of it held my interest because it wasn'ther. She's my favorite flavor, my guilty pleasure. She's the itch I could never scratch. Everything about her is exactly what I searched for and never could find. I wasn't looking for a quick fuck. All that time, I was looking forher. Callandria. The other half of my soul.

I turn my head, requesting Alexa turn off the lights. A second later, the room goes dark, leaving us in nothing but moonlight.

"Watch us in the window,bella," I whisper in her ear. "See what I do to this perfect body."

"Luca."

"Watch," I growl, swatting her right breast.

She cries out in shock, the sound quickly fading to a moan. Yes, she likes a little pain. She likes it all too well. I can smell how much she likes it.

I press my lips to her throat again, kissing and biting as I play with her nipples, pinching and twisting, teasing until she's sobbing and wetness glistens on her thighs.

"Now, touch your pussy,piccolina. Spread your lips and let me see it."