THIRTY-FIVE |

It was almost five in the morning by the time I heard Arturo's office door opening. I should have been asleep, but I found it difficult to rest without him beside me, unable to relax while tensions between us were so high. I wanted him to crawl into bed beside me, fit his body around mine and tell me everything would be okay. Tell me he wasn't mad. Tell me we'd get through this.

There were footsteps in the hall and I heard Marco and Arturo's voices as they parted ways. Even though his voice was muffled, I could detect the tension and stress that saturated Arturo's tone and it made my heart ache. Even when we fought, my instinct to protect and comfort him never faded.

I rolled over on the cool, empty bed so that I was facing the door, waiting for him to walk in. The room was dark, but my eyes had adjusted enough for me to see when he came inside.

I held my breath and watched him as he pulled off the signet ring he always wore on his pinkie, setting it quietly in a dish on the side. Then he tugged off his tie, slipped off his shoes, and paused, turning around so that he was looking directly at me. I closed my eyes instantly and pretended to be asleep, not wanting him to know I'd waited up for him despite his anger.

Arturo's quiet footsteps slowly grew closer until the bed dipped with his weight as he sat down in front of me. When a long period of silence seemed to drag on forever, I cracked open one eye and peered up at him. He was staring down at me with a torn expression on his face, hand half outstretched as if to stroke my hair. Then he thought better of the idea and put his hands back in his lap, looking away.

I couldn't stand the frown on his face any longer. I reached through the darkness and fumbled for his hand, gently moving it until his knuckles were pressed to my lips. "Are you mad at me?" I mumbled.

He took a while before replying, but even as he spoke I felt him relax against my touch. "Absolutely furious."

I kissed each knuckle then turned his hand to kiss his palm. "I know you hate the idea of me being in danger because I feel exactly the same way about you, Arturo."

He sighed, "I know."

"Are you still angry?"

"Yes."

I pursed my lips and averted my gaze to his hand, unable to meet his eyes. I didn't know how deep his anger went or how long it would last, or even what it was about. Was he mad that I was being put in danger? Mad that he wouldn't be with me? Mad that I had undermined him in front of his men?

"Arturo?" I pushed back the lump in my throat although my voice still came out in a quiet whisper. "I don't want to spend tonight angry with each other."

The implication of my words caused the air to grow thick with anxiety. We both knew that no matter what happened, we had no guarantees of what the day would bring. My safety wasn't certain, but despite that knowledge we had no choice.

Finally, Arturo turned to look at me again and as he did so he leaned down, cupping my face between his hands. "I'm sorry, baby. Me neither."

"Come to bed," I pleaded, tugging at his shirt collar. I needed him to be near me, so that I could commit to memory every part of him.

"I should be planning..."

"Please."

Arturo didn't respond – he didn't need to. I took his silence as confirmation and sat up on the bed, reaching over to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. My fingers shook nervously as I realised that this could be the last time I would ever undress him. This could be the last time I would kiss him, be held by him, tell him I loved him.

The more I thought about it, the more I began to panic. Of course, Arturo's men were all exceptionally skilled and his organisation was one of the most powerful, but there could never be a guarantee. What if one of us was to die? What would it be like to live without him? It wasn't an existence I wanted to contemplate, but with danger looming so close I couldn't push the thought from my mind.

"Hey." Arturo caught my fumbling hands and held them still against his chest. I could feel his heart beat, steady and strong, and it calmed me. "Relax," he whispered, "it's just me and you. Nobody else, just us, okay? Forget about everything else."

His steady gaze remained fixed on me as he pulled the shirt over his head. Then he slipped off his suit trousers before gently pushing me back onto the bed, cradling my head until I was laying flat with him hovering just above me.

Nobody needed to say it, but we both knew this could be our last night.

Arturo hesitated. "I know you want to take it slow–" he caught my lips in a soft kiss, "–and I'm going to respect that."

"Don't."

"Are you sure?" He pushed back a little so he could look at me clearly and I nodded.

After a pause, I managed to voice what we were both thinking but were too scared to say out loud. "What if this is the last time?"

"It won't be the last time," he promised fiercely, capturing my lips in another kiss that lasted so long I felt dizzy. My hands tangled in his curly hair and I felt the heat of desire stirring in me.

I'd put on one of Arturo's shirts after he dismissed me from our meeting and he now began unfastening the buttons, never losing eye contact for a second. So many unspoken things were communicated in our gazes, feelings and emotions so intense that it scared me. It scared me and thrilled me; that had always been the beauty of our relationship.

Arturo's lips grazed down my stomach, tongue leaving a damp trail in its wake. I felt my muscles tense in response when his hands wrapped around my thighs, slowly prising them apart as I watched his mouth get closer to where I wanted it. When I whined impatiently, he reached a hand up to cover my mouth and shot me a stern glance before continuing his assault of kisses.

"This will not be the last time I feel your soft skin," he mumbled, running his fingers up the inside of my thigh. My hips bucked up off the bed in response, but he easily pushed me back down before tightening his hold on my legs. I was aching for him, and the delicious way his fingers dug into me only made matters worse.

Arturo's kisses continued until he halted between my legs. Involuntarily, I felt my body pushing towards the wetness of his tongue, but he held me still in a form of wonderful torture. "This won't be the last time I smell your scent," he continued, nestling his head against my inner thigh and sucking the skin until I moaned with pleasure. "This won't be the last time I hear you moan for me," he kissed my other thigh, "or scream my name."

He looked up at me then, eyes burning with desire which only ignited my own.

"Arturo, please," I begged as his hands wrapped around me to squeeze my ass and pull me closer to his mouth.

Finally, he answered my plea and ran his tongue up my slit, hovering over the bundle of nerves at the top. The way he looked at me in that moment was almost enough to push me over the edge. "This will not be the last time I taste you," he swore, and the vibrations from his voice were so intense that my eyes fell closed with a sigh.

Arturo's tongue began moving against me, slowly at first and then faster as my hands got lost in his hair and started tugging. We were both breathing heavily, panting, and as his lips fastened around my clit and gently sucked I cried out in pleasure.

"Not yet, baby," he calmed me, kissing each of my hips. Then he shifted on the bed so he was hovering above me. "I want to enjoy being inside you."

"Wait –" I said as he bent his head toward the crook of my neck. He looked at me questioningly, hair damp with sweat as it hung over his forehead. He looked too good to be real, and I felt my words dry up. "Florence?"

Without speaking, I pushed him off me and with a tentative movement rolled our bodies so I was sat on top of him, legs by each side of his waist. Arturo looked mildly surprised for a moment, but when I began kissing my way down his chest the surprise soon turned to pleasure.

I took my time moving down his toned body, enjoying the way his breathing hitched when I grazed skin with teeth or left a glistening trail with my tongue. I reached his navel, then the line of hair that led me like an arrow downward. When I took him in my mouth the sharp noise he made brought a smile to my lips, and I felt him twitch at the touch of my tongue against his tip.

"Fuck," Arturo moaned, bringing his hips up slightly as I moved my mouth around him, up and down. I used my hand to cover what I couldn't take and as his hand wrapped around my hair, tugging hard, I felt the wetness between my own legs grow.

"Your mouth is something else, amore." I quickened my pace, becoming increasingly turned on as Arturo sought his climax, but his grip on my hair only tightened and tightened.

"Ow," I mumbled around his cock, hoping he'd loosen his hold, but he was too far gone to hear or notice. If anything, it made his hips thrust faster and harder into my mouth until I could hardly breathe and I felt myself gagging. "Stop–" I moaned as his hips pulled back enough for me to speak but I was cut off again. My hands found his and began pushing against them, pushing away from his body with as much strength as I could until finally I was free.

Arturo sat up suddenly as though a spell had been broken while I turned away, gagging. "Florence, baby?"

"I said stop, Arturo," I snapped, rubbing my throat.

The second he realised something was wrong he moved closer to me and wrapped an arm around my body, pulling me into his side. "I didn't realise..." he trailed off, at a loss for words.

That made two of us.

"I told you to stop," I repeated again, holding back tears.

"I didn't hear you, I thought you were just moaning – you seemed like you were enjoying it..."

The confusion in his voice made me turn to look at him and I saw finally that he really hadn't a clue. When he noticed the tears in my eyes a look of self hatred crossed his face. "I'm sorry," he said immediately, cupping my face. "I would never intentionally do that. I had no idea that..."

Arturo looked down, clearly upset with himself.

"I know you didn't realise," I said slowly, rubbing my hair where he had pulled it. I could feel that my scalp was sore in a few places, but it would heal. No permanent damage was done. He didn't know.

"That isn't an excuse."

"I forgive you," I promised, leaning across to lightly kiss him.

He pulled back to look into my eyes, and I could see how disgusted he was with what had happened. "I should never lose control with you like that," he said, shaking his head. Then he looked down again as though ashamed. "Sometimes I...zone out. It's like a switch is flipped and then I just..."

"You bottle a lot of things up," I told him, running my hand along the light stubble on his jawline. "And it comes out in unhealthy ways."

"It's not an excuse," he insisted. "Most of the time I can control it around you, I could never really hurt you, but this is who I am, Florence. The ugly side of who I really am."

"It was just a mistake, Arturo." Now it was my turn to take his face between my hands, forcing him to meet my gaze. "You're allowed to make mistakes, we all are."

And it was true. Arturo and I had been intimate with each other so many times it felt like he was my other half; as though I wasn't whole until I met him. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Nothing that bad had even happened; he'd just gotten a little carried away. No harm done.

"I don't want to make mistakes with you," he said quietly, tracing his thumb along my bottom lip.

"Mistakes are important. We learn from them."

We were silent for a moment, sitting completely still and listening to each other's breaths come and go.

"Let me make love to you," Arturo said suddenly, "properly. Please."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, smiling, as he pulled me onto his lap and wrapped my legs around his body.

"You are so fucking beautiful," Arturo murmured against my neck, rubbing his fingers lightly across my collar bones and down my sides. He pulled back to look at me and as he did so he put two fingers into his mouth, slowly pulling them back out before trailing his fingertips down my stomach until they reached the area I wanted them the most.

His thumb brushed my clit and my breath caught sharply. My hands tightened around his shoulders as he kept stroking me lightly, teasingly. "Does that feel good?"

I nodded silently, eyes falling closed with pleasure.

"I asked," a finger slipped inside me suddenly and I gasped, "if it feels good, baby?"

"Y-yeah," I breathed. It was all I could say – the only word in that moment that I knew.

"Come here." Growing impatient, Arturo's hands gently guided my ass until I felt his cock pressing against my entrance, teasing me.

He held me still with one hand while reaching up to brush hair out of my eyes with the other. "Is this okay?"

"Yes–" I barely finished speaking before I felt him push inside me, filling me up and causing me to moan. My arms wrapped around his muscular, broad back and his wrapped around my waist, both of us pulling each other closer.

Sitting up, with my legs wrapped around him and our bodies connected so intimately, I'd never felt closer to anyone in my whole life. Every time our eyes met I felt a jolt of electricity that couldn't be explained; the connection between us that crossed oceans and continents, that followed us always even miles apart.

"Florence Genovese," Arturo's raspy voice spoke as he pressed further into me, "you have made me the luckiest man alive."

I leaned down to kiss him then, passionately, until I forgot where my lips ended and his began. Until I forgot everything except one, very important, thought.

"I'm not a Genovese," I panted as our hips began their dance back and forwards.

Every time I moved down, desperate to feel him, Arturo's hands would lift me back up until we fell into a rhythm. He pressed a hand against my cheek, "then what are you?"

"I'm not a Lucchese, yet, either." I almost lost my train of thought when his thumb travelled back down to my clit but I pressed my head into the crook of his neck and forced myself to concentrate despite the pleasure building between my legs. "Florence Zaman," I managed to get out as a wonderful shudder curled down my spine. "After my mother's maiden name."

Arturo's hips raised to meet mine and he moaned, eyes falling closed for a second. "Florence Zaman," he repeated breathlessly, eyes closed, one hand pressed to the small of my back as we both drew closer to the edge. I could feel my body shaking around him as he finally came, and a minute later I followed, falling against him in peaceful bliss.

For a long time, bodies glistening with sweat, we simply sat in each other's arms. I listened to his pounding heart, his breaths, breathed in the smell of his sweat and mine, mixed.

"Florence Zaman," Arturo repeated after a while. "Florence, Florence, Florence." We both collapsed back onto the mattress, too tired to say or do much more. "I like it," he said, "for now. Don't get used to it."

"I won't."