“You're making a mess, clean yourself up.” I chuck a few steri strips and bandages his way. “Or don’t.” I shrug, hiding the truth of what those words mean.
Walking back to the office, I swipe the contents of the desk onto the floor, anger still clawing at my skin.
Placing the box down, I use Romeo’s finger to unlock the lid.
I pull it off, picking out loads of receipts from florists, hundreds, thousands of pounds worth. Ordered every week. Enough to start up his own florist shop. I know Romeo doesn’t have anyone in his life, had I missed something?
Chucking them to the side, I grab letters, all of them bundled together and tied in black ribbon. All labelled, from eight years ago, to only several weeks ago. I pull one out randomly, tearing it open.
My eyes scanning the words, all handwritten. A few words stick out.
Sorry, miss you, love you always.
Unable to understand, I rip open more and more, until everyone is open and there’s a pile around me. All the same, proclaiming how much he is missing me, words upon words of grief. Deep rooted, heart tearing sorrow. Love, words of pure love. For me, for my family.
I put my hand back in the box seeing how much it’s shaking, pulling out pictures of us. Ones we took in secret, between the sheets just after we had sex. All of them have one thing in common. Love. It was there in every photo. No one could look at them and not see it.
Looking back over the receipts, it is yellow roses, my mother’s favourite. He had been the person putting the flowers on their graves, mourning them, he hadn’t forgotten them. Shoving everything back in the box, emotions run wild through my veins, unable to understand what they were. It was if everyone had become unstuck. Found an opening from the dark place I kept them and were racing for freedom.
Romeo is bandaging his hand, his jaw gritted together as his muscles pop underneath the skin. His head snaps up as I enter.
I empty the containers of the box over the floor. “What is this?”
Chapter Fourteen
Romeo
I freeze as the contents of the box hit the ground, every inch of me wants to run and grab up the pieces. They were my secrets, my last piece of Remy. It was all laid there amongst my blood and some tears, my truth, raw emotions. My father had trained me for this life, hardened me to this world and the violence it brought. Forced to turn off my humanity. To become a man capable of being a leader, to become the head of the Russo family. His son. But seeing all the letters, pictures, it made me feel vulnerable. I wanted to crawl away to the darkest part of earth and hide.
“You have no right.” I growl working on the emotion I’m most familiar with, anger.
Remy’s stance widens as he crosses his arms over his chest. “They are all addressed to me.” the words come out low, dark.
“No, they were addressed to m-” I cut myself off, unable to get past the lump in my throat.
His thick fingers curl around my jaw pinning me in place. “To your what?” He growls, I shake my head but his fingers bite into the skin. “Your what?” He tilts my head, our lips barely a breath apart. “To my Remy.” I growl before I can finish. His hot lips are on mine, his mouth and tongue consuming me. It felt like hot flames against my skin everywhere Remy touched. “You want this?” His voice is like a seductive kiss against my skin. “Yes.” I breathe, wanting to kiss him again. I watch as need holds my body, as he chucks me a little small tube, catching it I instantly know what it is- lube. “You want it, you’ll have to work for it.” A grin spreads over his face, as he takes a seat pulling out his hard cock, stroking his length in long motions, paying extra attention to the head. “Get yourself ready, while I watch.” Pinning me with that dark look, Remy's eyes stay on mine, as I walk to the small shower, not waiting for the water to warm up. It hits my skin like shards of glass. I wash the grime and blood off my body, moving my hands over my muscles, smirking as I hear Remy’s breath hitch behind me. I wasn’t a bottom; I hadn’t been since Remy. But it was as if my body remembered, as I grab the lube, spreading it on my fingers, before pushing in one, then two. The bite of pain sending ripples of pleasure through me, as I add another. Closing my eyes, imagining they’re his, as I pusher deeper. When I feel thick thighs pressed against mine. Teeth dragging across my shoulder, as a thick fist wraps around my cock, making my hips jerk. “Please.” I mewl, pulling my fingers out, pushing against his hard cock. “I want you; I’ve missed you filling me.”
Grabbing my wrist, he holds them in one of his hands, before moving the other down my arm, across my cheek bone; down to my neck where his fingers tighten slightly, enough to show threat, but without restricting my airway. His dick pressing against me, that had me twitching and arching back as his hand travelled down my chest pinching my nipples, before disappearing between us.
When I feel his thick cock just where I want it. “Beg for it.” comes right next to my ear, before he bites on my earlobe, causing me to hiss.
“Please, I’m aching. I need you.” As if my words break the invisible thread he is holding on to, he slowly pushes his cock in. The connection between us is stronger than it's ever been, as the thrust becomes wilder, and the stokes longer. Grabbing my hip to alter the angle, hitting that spot that
