"I trust you."
"Because you still care about me," I say, my lips near her ear. "You love me."
"I do," she whispers. "God help me, I love you."
Before it's even fully from her lips, I force her head back down. Her eyes open, startled, before I smash my lips to hers, kissing her hard. It takes her a second to kiss me back as I let go of her hair and grab her hips, pulling her toward me on the balcony. She slips off the edge of the wall, right against me, my body pinning her there to the concrete. I thrust hard, fucking her with everything in me, grunting as my muscles grow taunt, tension building inside of me.
Fuck, I'm going to come.
I pull from her lips to take a deep breath, my eyes darting over her shoulder, drawn to the building right across the street. A figure stands on an adjacent balcony facing us, close enough to see exactly what we're doing. My lips curve involuntarily, a laugh escaping my lips. "We've got an audience, sweetheart."
She tenses. "You're joking."
"Nope," I say. "A man came out to watch the show."
"Oh, God." As soon as she says that, I pin her against the wall to free my hand again, slipping it between us to stroke her clit. She barely has time to inhale before the words come out yet again in the form of a moan. "Oh God."
It doesn't take long for her to come again, her legs shaking, body quaking around me, as a loud cry vibrates her chest that she can't restrain. It's an agonizing shriek of pleasure that rocks me to the core, exploding somewhere deep inside of me so I can't hold back my own anymore. I grunt, slamming her against the concrete as I thrust hard, coming inside of her.
After a few thrusts, I can't take anymore and have to pull back, slipping out of her. I quickly tuck my cock away and grasp her hips to make sure she's stable as she drops to her feet, wobbling. Instead of slipping past me, rushing inside or dodging for her clothes just feet away, she collapses into me, wrapping her arms around me as her head comes to rest against my chest. I hug her back, engulfing her in my arms, and press a kiss to the top of her head.
A catcall cuts through the night air, a loud whistle echoing across the street. My eyes dart that way as the man claps. "Bravo!"
"Oh my God," Karissa groans. "I can't even…"
She slips out of my grasp, darting away, leaving her clothes discarded right where she took them off as I call out "Can't even what?" but she's gone before I even get out the first word. The man across the street shouts out something else, the fast and fluent Italian lost on me as I watch Karissa's shadow move around.
Laughing, I wave at the man and head inside. "Ciao."
"Do you want to—?"
"Nope."
I stall, standing in the middle of the hotel room, a cold sense of dread sweeping through me when Karissa cuts me off mid-question, not letting me finish what I was going to ask.
Déjà vu.
I thought we were past this nonsense. Yesterday had been better than ever. I've never felt as close to her as I did laying in bed last night, holding her, no clothing between our bodies, no secrets separating us anymore.
I expected to wake up to a new day, a fresh start, but instead she does this?
Karissa's stretched out on the bed, wearing only one of the big white robes supplied by the hotel, her hair still damp from her shower. She's flipping through channels. There are only a few, mostly in Italian. She doesn't know a damn thing that's happening on any of them, but they're stealing her attention.
I don't like it.
The urge to punch the television nearly overwhelms me.
My hands clench into fists involuntarily. Almost like she can sense it, Karissa stops on one of the channels and tosses the remote down, her attention turning to me. Her brow furrows as she takes in my stance before she smiles. "If it requires walking, abso-freaking-lutely not. After yesterday, I am beat. The only way I'm going anywhere is if you carry me."
"I offered to carry you yesterday and you refused."
"Yeah, well, not today," she says, relaxing back against the pillows as she gazes at the television again. "The only way you're getting me to move from this bed is if you pick me up and physically move me."
"Ah, well, lucky for you, I can think of plenty of ways we can pass the day without leaving the bed," I say, sitting down beside her. "And I was going to ask if you wanted breakfast. I was going to order room service."
"Uh, yes, I take it back... that would be amazing. Do they have bacon and eggs? Oh, and French toast, or does France have a monopoly on that in Europe?"
"Actually, the French didn't invent French toast," I reply. "That was probably the Ancient Romans."