Out of the Dark (8 page)

I try on a red strapless corset with lace cups and a tiny thong to match. I open the curtain to get Bianca’s opinion.

She eyes me up and down. “You look very beautiful. Mr. Savano will melt for you.”

With my purchases in hand, we stop for gelato and eat the creamy, refreshing delicacies as we stroll past street artists and vendors.

I’m caught up in daydreams of wearing my new outfit for Stefan, and I feel a smile creeping across my face.

Bianca links her arm with mine. “Are you in love, Carina?”

All the feelings that have been rushing through me—feelings I’ve been afraid to name—stop their turbulent swirling, and I quietly admit the truth to Bianca and myself. “I think I am.”

“Love is not something you think. It is something you
feel
. The way Mr. Savano makes you feel, have you ever felt that way before?”

“No. He’s just . . . ever since I saw him, I’m just . . .”

“Everything is beautiful? Love makes us see beauty everywhere. In the world, in ourselves, in others,” she says in her musical Italian accent.

“Everything
is
beautiful here in Italy.”

“Yes, but Mr. Savano makes everything shine brighter for you. I can tell. You look different since he’s been gone. It is like something is missing for you.”

She’s right, but when I look at her, I don’t see the expression she speaks of. In Rocco’s absence, nothing is missing for her.

“It’s crazy—that I feel this much for him. It’s exciting, but I’m a little afraid.”

“What are you afraid of?”

I look down at my feet and the patterns of the cobblestones. “That he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“That is something you will find out, Carina, but I can tell you this: All the honey a bee gathers during its lifetime does not sweeten its sting. What is sweet for you today may burn tomorrow. This is the way life is.”

Bianca speaks to me the way a sister would, and I can see the beginning of a true friendship growing. Only time will tell if Stefan feels for me the way I do for him.

After a beautiful dinner, Bianca and I drive back to the vineyard in darkness. I fall into peaceful sleep as we travel, completely at ease in Bianca’s care.

***

I wake, alone in Stefan’s bed, and the longing I feel for him grows until my heart is overflowing.

I take a walk in the vineyard just after the sun has risen, and the dew still lingers on the plants. The air is fragrant, and the only sounds are the waking birds singing to one another.

I’ve had free reign of the entire estate and exploring it has brought me much enjoyment. I find peace here and am growing to feel at home.

After my walk, I head to Stefan’s library. It’s enormous, and I could lose myself for hours in the musty-scented first editions. It has become one of my most treasured places, even though none of the books belong to me.

The door creaks open, and I look toward the sound expecting to see Bianca, but find Stefan standing in the shadows. His bag is still in his hand, his tie undone and hanging loose, and his black and gray hair mussed from his journey.

I want to run to him and wrap my arms around his neck. I want to kiss him and touch him. Instead, I stand still, wrapped in shock as the book slips from my fingers and drops to the floor with a thud.

I am frozen, but Stefan isn’t.

He drops his bag, shutting the door behind him as he walks toward me.

His sexy scent rushes through me before I feel his touch, and I close my eyes as I feel his hands circle my waist and his lips press against mine. My body tingles with a wave of emotion.

He’s ferocious, not tender. The restrained gentleman is gone. He’s hungry for this, and so am I.

He presses me into the shelf and slides his hands up my thighs and under my skirt. He slips his fingers under my panties and runs them along my wet lips.

My breath catches when I feel him glide them inside me, and he deepens our kiss.

A beautiful sound, his belt coming undone, and his pants drop to the floor. He breaks our kiss just long enough to tug my shirt over my head.

I gasp for air.

He pulls my bra cups down so that my breasts are exposed, and his gaze roams over my flesh. Then, and only then, does he speak. “I have thought about nothing but you, nothing but this, since I left. I couldn’t wait to touch you. I want you, Carina.”

Bianca was wrong. She had said that Stefan would melt for me, but I’m the one melting.

He’s warm and firm when he first enters me, his initial fervor seemingly kept at bay now that he can feel me around him, and the pleasure renders me speechless. He holds me against the bookcase with ease as he takes my lips between his, one at a time, over and over again in an endless kiss. He moves his hips into me in a gentle, hypnotic rhythm, and his flesh feels perfect inside me.

I don’t want it to stop. I’m afraid now that I’ve felt him in this way, I’ll never be able to go back to my old life. I’ll always want to feel him inside me. I’ll always be dreaming of the next moment. His hold on me has become so powerful I can’t imagine a life without him and this.

He slides his hands through my hair and his touch is so gentle. He brushes his thumbs against the sides of my jaw, and he darts his tongue out to touch mine.

Our mouths cover each other with no beginning, no end, and deepen the connection.

He moves his hands toward my hips then my backside, gripping me harder and lifting me up, then pulls out so that just the tip of his hardness lingers inside. He stops kissing me, nothing but that thick, hot piece of him teasing my entrance. “Look at me.”

Sweat-kissed skin, gruff stubble, and cool blue eyes greet me as I open my eyes and take him in. His face is a work of art to me.

“Tell me it isn’t just your body you’re giving to me right now. Tell me it’s more,” he begs, still withholding himself.

I’m crazed with a need to feel him deep inside again. I shake my head and try to push my body into his, aching for his.

“It’s more than that.”

He plunges into me again, harder this time. My mouth drops open in a gasp.

He doesn’t even blink. “I feel you in my heart. Am I in yours?” He moves faster now and behind his sinful sexiness, I see how much he wants to hear me say yes.

“You are.” I bring his hand up to my breast where my heart pounds beneath the flesh.

He smiles and massages my firm, round skin. He pinches and plays with my hard nipple. Then, he kisses and licks me there.

Like a climber ascending the summit, I reach for an unknown peak. A feeling no man has ever given me begins to undulate inside me. I hear a groaning, desperate sound and realize it’s coming from my own lips. My body tenses, slamming against the shelf, as sweat prickles and breaks through my skin. A hollow feeling blooms inside my chest, and I can’t quite catch my breath.

“Stefan.” I moan, and he ceases his adoration of my breasts.

He looks so deeply into my eyes that I feel something binding me to him, something unseen—some fragile but strengthening thread running from my body to his. A look of recognition moves over his face. “Are you going to come?”

His question is the push I need.

“Oh, God. Oh, my God . . .”

He stifles my cries with his lips and tongue, his body pushing into me with such force that I jolt each time he thrusts. “That’s right. Come for me.”

I grip his muscular shoulders hard, squeezing with every pulse of my body, and it sounds as if there’s a siren blaring sharp and loud in the distance, but I know it’s happening inside my head.

He grips the back of my hair and pulls me down to meet his thrusts. His panting breaths are heavy in my ear.

I know he’s on his way to joining me. With other men, I never cared because they always felt it before I had the chance. I’ve felt so much pleasure that I’m desperate to make it good for him.

“Stefan, you feel s—”

A snarling sound bursts out of him, and I experience how big he truly is as he plunges deeper than ever—over and over, faster and harder each time.

Before my breathing settles from the latest wave washing over me, Stefan pulls out and puts me down.

I gasp as my focus goes from his face to the shelf I was just knocking against. He drags his palm down my back, pressing the top of my body forward, and I spread my hands to steady myself and try to hold the screams tickling the back of my throat.

Stefan grips my shoulder like a drowning man holding tight to a life preserver with one hand. He wraps an arm across my ribs, my chest, and closes his other hand over my breast, his groaning, moaning, and gravelly grunts now rumble against my back as he squeezes our bodies closer together.

I feel the warmth landing on my skin as he jolts and jerks his release between us.

He rests his head on the bookshelf, struggling to catch his breath. “So good . . .”

I smile, my eyes fixed on the bindings of Shakespeare’s greatest works.

***

I’m addicted. I am his helpless slave. Now that I’ve had a taste, all I want to do every moment of every day is touch him. The renewed lust smothers me, but having Stefan back feels like a gift and I’m grateful.

We spend more time in his bedroom than anywhere else. He makes love to me with such fervor and adoration that I shatter and crumble for him each time. The things he does, the way he makes me feel, the responses only he can pull out of me are pure magic. We learn how to please each other and our bodies match perfectly—each one a complement to the other.

Like everything Stefan does, he is an absolute master.

I decide to cancel my flight home. The idea of leaving this trip open-ended is scary, but I’m not ready to leave Stefan.

I sit down in Stefan’s office and call to let my parents know my schedule has changed.

Dad answers.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Carina. I really am. But are you sure about this?” my father asks.

“I am. Stefan is taking great care of me, Dad. You should see this place. It’s massive. I feel like I’m living in a museum or something.”

“Where does this Stefan get all that money from?”

“He owns two successful vineyards, Dad.”

“Okay, okay. I’m just asking.”

“How has Mom been doing?” He doesn’t answer right away, and it makes me nervous. “Dad?”

“She’s doing just fine. Don’t worry now. Call us soon.”

“I will. I love you.”

***

Weeks pass filled with nothing but time with Stefan and my growing love for him.

One evening before dinner, I find him working in his office. I knock on the open door, and he hangs up the phone, removing his glasses and leaning back in his chair.

He smiles when he sees me.

“Hello, darling.” I saunter toward him, and he swivels his chair toward me as I sit on the edge of his desk. “Are you busy?”
 

“No, I was just on the phone with my nephew, Lorenzo.” He rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

“Is everything all right?”

“Well, no. He said . . . my mother isn’t feeling well.”

“I’m sorry. Is your nephew with her?”

“Yes. My entire family lives together at the vineyard in Ravine Creek. I want you to meet them, but things have been so busy here. Lorenzo has been working hard to care for her. My sister, Gemma, and her daughter Nora are there as well. Everyone has been pitching in . . . everyone except me. I called Lorenzo because I need him to fly out here to assist me in some business affairs. He manages Ravine Creek, but I need some help with a project here. He’ll be here in a few days. I feel terrible that I’m asking him to fly out when Nonna isn’t well.”

I move to his lap, sitting across his thighs and running my fingers through his hair before taking his hand in mine. “Your mother is cared for. You shouldn’t worry.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

I know, from experience, he’s right. When someone you love is suffering, no words can make it right or ease your mind, and I find myself wishing I was home with my mom. Taking care of her was my life for a very long time.

I look over his shoulder at the huge tropical fish tank.

Creatures large and small move through the illuminated water, wrapped in their own little universe, enveloped in their isolated and artificial reality, not realizing or caring that there are other beings in the world.

The silence reaches an awkwardness I can’t stand, and I try to change the subject.
 

“Where did you get those fish?”

He swivels the chair so we’re facing the luminescent tank. “This office was my father’s before he passed away. Most of those fish are ones he caught scuba diving in Bora Bora, if you can believe that.”

I feel his hands running up and down my back as I gaze at the huge, ancient fish and imagine Stefan’s father diving and conquering them like Neptune with a trident.

“When I was a kid I used to stare at this tank—at the skeleton arms of the coral and the strange creatures that look so out of place here. I remember being both intrigued by their mystery and a bit afraid. I went diving with my father a few times. He loved the sea. He loved the lakes near Ravine Creek.” He smiles, looking lost in memories.