“A rule,” Ginevra said.
Alessio made a noise under his breath.
She looked to Corrado for an explanation, and he grinned when he murmured, “Those are what got us into trouble.”
Exactly.
Alessio stayed quiet.
“All right,” Ginevra said, “an understanding, then. Better?”
Alessio tipped his chin down to agree.
“We don’t shut out people we love, and we don’t shut off from them, either,” Ginevra said. “Ever.”
“Just like that?” Corrado asked. “That’s all you want from us?”
She met Corrado’s gaze, unafraid and so sure.
Alessio smiled—life was right again.
Or it was getting there.
“And we stay together,” Ginevra said quieter. “No matter what. Because I’m not me without the two of you, and I might be selfless to everyone else, but I am selfish enough with my happiness that I want to keep both of you.”
“Do you?”
“How could I not when I love you?”
Yes, Alessio thought, life was most definitely right again.
Corrado stilled at Ginevra’s statement, his gaze skipping to Alessio for a split second. Alessio hadn’t missed it, and he was quick to ask, “What?”
“I just ...”
“Corrado,” Alessio murmured.
“Weren’t you the one who said we put too much weight into those words?”
“I did.”
“And yet,” Corrado hedged.
“The impact is still unlike anything,” Alessio said. “And doesn’t it sound so fucking good coming out of her, though?”
“It does.”
Ginevra passed a soft smile back to Alessio. “You are something.”
He winked. “And you love it.”
“Lucky for you.”
“It is,” Corrado said, “lucky for him, I mean ... for both of us.”
Ginevra’s laughter colored up the space, but just as quickly, it was drowned out by Corrado closing the distance between them to kiss her. A few steps had separated them, then she moved around the edge of the couch to stand in front of Alessio, when Corrado caught her. Alessio had the privilege of being able to see it when the two let down the rest of those walls.
He understood Corrado’s need—that undeniable urge to just kiss Ginevra and have her close—because he sensed it, too. He’d felt it when he first saw her in her New York apartment, and it had taken everything in him to wait long enough for her sisters to be gone before he closed the distance one fucking step at a time to get what he wanted.
Hell, Corrado had lasted longer.
Props to him.
There was something stirring to Alessio to watch the two—it didn’t matter if they were cooking side by side, kissing like they were now, or waking up to see them fucking next to him in the bed. It all brought on the same hurricane of emotions. It still thundered deep in his chest, something that went beyond his heartbeat.
Love.
Lust.
Need.
Want.
Amazement.
Terror.
Appreciative.
Selfishness.
Because that was all his—both people. And that thing between them they shared. It was his, too. Individually, with each of them on a one-to-one basis, and them together as a unit with him.
People who are lucky get one great love in their life. Many more never even get the chance to meet theirs.
Alessio?
He was given two.
Two.
The hand Corrado had tucked clasped onto Ginevra’s side drifted away from her to reach for Alessio. He didn’t question the want for touch, simply answered it by reaching back, his fingers threading with Corrado’s before he leaned forward enough to press his forehead against the side of their clasped hands.
For a single second before this moment turned into something else—he figured it would; they needed the physical side, too, with each other—he soaked that in, refusing to let anything seep into his mind so he wouldn’t forget it.
That feeling.
Would it ever be the same again?
He wasn’t sure.
It didn’t matter.
He’d never forget it now.
But he also wasn’t wrong on what he believed, either. All it took was a soft, “I need you—both of you.” That whisper from Ginevra was so quiet, and yet, there was an unmistakable heat in her tone. A want.
And he swore it was second nature for he and Corrado ... an uncontrollable urge they both had to give this woman what she wanted, when she wanted it. It didn’t matter what it was, pancakes at nine in the evening, or fucking at two in the morning, they would give it to her because she asked.
A lot like each other, too.
Ginevra fell back into Alessio’s lap, her loose hair spilling over his shoulder as his arms locked around her waist. He took that chance to dip his hands lower while Corrado pulled his suit jacket off and worked on the buttons of his shirt. Alessio wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Ginevra hot and wet under the lace panties hidden between the skirt of her dress. He bunched the skirt around her hips. His hand under her panties moved fast, stroking through the seam of her sex to take the wetness he found there up to her clit.
All she needed to get off were the pads of his fingertips against her clit in fast back-and-forth strokes at a steady pressure, and he would make her come like nothing at all. He did exactly that, wanting her worked up. No flavor was better than Ginevra’s pussy right after she came, no doubt about that.
There was something sweeter tasting to her skin, he would swear on it.
“Yeah, fuck,” Corrado said when he buried his face into Ginevra’s neck to breathe her in as she squirmed against his hold, “make her come, Les. Let me see it.”
“Oh, my God,” Ginevra choked out, the sound raw enough to make his cock impossibly harder beneath his jeans. And with her tight little ass grinding against his groin to get more friction of his hand against her clit, he damn near blew his load like a fucking teenager. “Please, don’t stop. Please, Les.”
He laughed against the heat of her skin, and her pulse thrummed under the spot where his lips grazed her throat. “Not this time, sweetheart.”
Alessio realized Corrado had kneeled down between the two of them when the warm roughness of the man’s tongue lapped at his fingers running across Ginevra’s clit. The heady moan that Corrado let loose was enough to have Alessio clenching all over—but in the best way.
“Do you hear that, Ginny?” Alessio asked her, his mouth drifting up the side of her trembling jaw before coming to a stop at her ear. He found the flavor of salt on her skin already, but also that strange sweetness, too—it would be a good fucking night all around. “That sound means he likes the taste of you on me, woman. Do you want him to eat your pussy while I make you come?”
A whine echoed from Ginevra. A clear yes following right behind it. Corrado did what she wanted, and Alessio intensified the pressure and pace on her clit for her. Everybody had that button to push, and this was Ginevra’s. As soon as he hit it, and Corrado was feasting on her pussy she shouted loud as she came.
Trembling all over.
Hot to the damn touch.
Sobbing their names.
Fuck.
It was sacrilegious.
It had to be.
If sin was a physical thing like people believed it to be, it had to be the sound Ginevra made when she was coming like that with both of them touching her. And if heaven truly existed, it was also this.