“For what?” It’s whispered from my chest, my fingers finding the curve of his cheek.
“For not leaving me there.” His soft words bang around in my hollow chest, my eyes pooling at the reminder.
“I’m your life. You didn’t have a choice but to be fine because I’m still here.”
I wrap an arm around his head, pretending I don’t feel the gauze of his wrap against my skin as I pull him to me. I feel him adjust the blankets around our hips, pulling it further up my back and I drop a hand between us, rising enough to sink onto his erection. He palms my back as I start moving, and I bring my other arm up so I’m hugging his neck.
I press my forehead to his, breathing in every one of his exhales, savoring the cinnamon on his tongue and the spice of his skin. I’m moving slowly, drawing out our connection for as long as I can make it last. “I love you.” I whisper it against his lips, putting every ounce of the love in my heart into those three little words. I want him to feel how much I love him with them, be able to remember the way they sounded. The way they tasted on his lips.
I pull his lips to mine before he can say it back, squeezing my arms to keep him as close to my face as possible. His palms are pressing up my sides, a hand on my hip helping me move in a way that won’t hurt him. I move my lips to his ear, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I love you.”
I can feel the tears stinging the backs of my eyes and try to rein them in, not wanting to spoil our time and not wanting to remember it with tears.
“Vita Mia.” It’s groaned into my neck, his lips brushing along my skin, his breath warm against the damp spots left from his tongue.
His hips are moving quicker against my own, getting lost in the pleasure of us and less concerned about the hole in his chest. I loosen my hold on his neck and he grips both of my hips in his hands, digging his fingers into my hips as he grinds me against him. “Cum per me, Piccola.” Come for me, baby.
I’m not there yet, but I want to please him so I reach between us pressing my fingers against my clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He brings his lips to mine and I swipe my tongue over his bottom lip, sucking his tongue into my mouth. I want to remember how he tastes just like this. Remember how his sweet commands sound on his uneven breath. I will forever be entwined with this man, forever missing half of my heart, and it’s bittersweet. There’s no one else I’d want to have it, but him. And no one else can break it like him either.
My orgasm is a slow burn, working its way from my belly to my limbs. It’s a sluggish warmth along my spine, drawing a long moan from my lips and making my legs weak. Donatello grabs my head, groaning against my lips as he finds his release, his hips rocking slowly under my legs.
I press my face to his neck when he’s done, laying on his unmarred side as I breathe him in, closing my eyes so there’s nothing but him.
“I love you too, Vita Mia.” He swallows, bringing his hand up to run his knuckles over my cheek. “We can make it work, baby. I know we can.”
I know he’s talking about Olivia, and I don’t say anything, just stay nestled with him. He doesn’t press the issue when I don’t speak, just tilts his face to kiss the top of my head. I’m glad he doesn’t try to talk more because I don’t want to. I just want to lay here with him and pretend it’ll be like this forever. Pretend I didn’t just say my goodbyes without him knowing it.
I wait until his breathing slows, until I know he’s asleep to move from him. I grab my towel and rewrap it around myself, fixing his gown and blankets. Grabbing the hotel phone, I dial Jessie’s number.
“Pronto.”
“It’s me, Jessie.” I swallow on the line, looking over at Donatello sleeping in the bed. “Can you bring me some clothes?”
“Sure. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Anything for you, Laney Girl.”
I hang up on the line, sinking into the seat by Donatello’s bed. I don’t want him to wake up until after I leave. Until after I’m already gone.
It feels like an eternity I’m sitting there, waiting for Jessie to show up, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour when he finally walks in the door. His eyes land on Donatello’s sleeping form and I stand from my chair, walking to him.
He holds the clothes out to me and watches me take them, crystal eyes honed on my every move. He looks like he wants to say something but decides against it.
“Thank you.” I step past him and into the bathroom. I drop my towel to pull on the cotton underwear Jessie picked out for me, then step into my leggings. I'm grateful he went the comfortable route and didn’t grab something fancier, knowing I’d need the comfort of my regular clothes. I tug on my tee and hoodie, walking barefoot out of the bathroom.
Jessie sees my feet and frowns. “What happened to your shoes?”
Gathering my hair, I wrap it around itself, tying it up in a bun. “I threw them
