When Aliyana glanced back to meet my eyes, I paused inside her and stared right back. There was no music playing to drown everything out, no words said to break the silence… It was the most intense and meaningful moment of my life. Here, deep inside this woman who only knew the man I was now, not the unfeeling bastard I was before, was my more.
I’d never once thought that I deserved a second chance, never wanted one. As far as I was concerned, I deserved to spend the rest of my life miserable for what I’d done. But here, deep inside the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, the woman who just got me, I was bartering with God to let me keep her… just for a while… to keep feeling… this… whatever this was…
“Tu sei bella…” You are beautiful, I whispered and noticed Aliyana’s eyes glisten. She careened forward and pressed a brief kiss on my lips, then tilted her head to the side, urging me to kiss down her neck. My hips started rocking again, Aliyana lightly panting with every drawn-out thrust.
Aliyana tightened her grip around my neck, and with our entwined fingers holding tight, I built up speed, taking us further and further to the edge.
Minutes later, our damp skin scalding hot, Aliyana quietly moaned as she came. Her eyes fluttered closed and, after two more thrusts, I tucked my nose into her hair and came too.
“Elpi…” Aliyana murmured quietly, and I tightened my arm around her waist. I held her as close as I physically could. And Aliyana let me. Let me hold on to our connection without saying a word.
“What was that music you played?” I suddenly asked. “Just now, what was that?”
“Yiruma’s “Kiss the Rain,”” she answered breathlessly, her tired body sagging in my arms.
I committed the title of that song to memory. “Kiss the Rain.”
Pulling out of her, I scooped her up in my arms, only stopping to lift the sheet off the floor, and carried her back to my bed. As we lay down, Aliyana softly peppered kisses all over my face before resting her cheek affectionately on my chest.
“I’ve missed you, Elpi…” she whispered sleepily.
I squeezed her closer to my side, wishing I could tell her I’d missed her too. Instead, I curtly ordered, “You’re staying here tonight.”
Aliyana nuzzled into my chest and I felt the muscles in her cheeks pull into a smile. “From the first time I ever saw your angel sculpture, it seared my heart… I always knew if I could meet you in the flesh, your soul would do the same.”
The words she spoke might as well have been a fucking Hail Mary from God himself, a free pass for the fucked-up sins of my past. But that could never be true. I had to pay the piper. I’d ruined lives. Karma didn’t work this way, giving you everything you could dream of without paying some kind of price.
I pressed my cheek on the top of her head and closed my eyes.
It was the first time I’d slept right through the night without waking up to cold sweats and an unbearable anger killing me inside.
Chapter Eleven
Ally
As I woke to the bright sun filtering through the large windows of the studio, the rays lighting up his muscled naked body, it felt like I was caught in a dream.
Elpidio’s strong arms were still holding me close; he’d never let go all night. I treasured the touch of this closed off, tortured man, but felt a deep pit swell in my stomach.
What was he hiding about himself that was so terrible?
What was haunting his genius mind, pushing anyone away from getting too close? Warning me to stay away?
Lifting my fingers, I traced them gently over his rugged face, focusing my attention on the black crucifix which dominated his left cheek. The lines looked like he’d done it himself, the center of the cross seeming to cover something underneath.
Eyes following fingers, I ran them down his short, soft beard to his neck, tattoos covering every inch of skin. Unfamiliar symbols, images of Italy and cryptic words featured in most of the designs. These designs led to similar works on his chest, the centerpiece an intricate rosary falling to his sternum.
It was beautiful.
But on closer inspection, my eyebrows furrowed as I studied a number of slash scars and what looked like stab wounds on his abs and stomach.
They all looked bad, but none as painful-looking as the one on the back of his neck.
How the hell did he get them all?
I thought back to the numerous questions about his past which had gone unanswered: the tragic background to his sculptures, the tightly pristine made bed when I walked into the studio last night, the scars, and the fact he hadn’t been with a woman in years.
As I cast my eyes over his current sculpture, the boy with a gun, crying blood and bullet tears, one thought came to mind: Was he military? Was that why he was so closed off? So jaded by people… by life?
A loud beep sounded from across the room, the shrill noise waking Elpi, his dark sleepy eyes blinking open. I held my breath as he looked down. His eyebrows knitted together as if he was confused by seeing me sprawled across his chest. But when a hint of a smile hooked on the corner of his top lip, I felt a swarm of butterflies invade my stomach.
“Hi,” I whispered.