Blame it on the shame Part 2

Her breath hitches when I cup her jaw and lean down. I study every feature of her perfect face, even though I've never forgotten a single detail of it.

I brush her tears away, but fresh ones fall. Each and every one of them burn me, but I deserve it. "I hate you," she says as she lifts my shirt and I raise my arms for her.

She stands up and begins removing her clothes. "I chose you."

I follow suit but make no move to take it further until she does.

I'll do anything to take away her pain and give her what she needs.

And what she needs right now is to hate me...she needs to blame me for what happened. And I have to let her.

Because it's so much better than the alternative...her continuing to blame and hate herself.

She straddles my lap and leans her head against my chest. "I'm so sorry, baby." I press my lips to her forehead and rub soothing circles along her spine. "It's all my fault. Not yours."

She begins crying again and I feel like the world's biggest asshole.

"I hate you," she screams through sobs as her hand finds my cock and she brings me inside her.

I fight back my groan of both pleasure and heartache and look into her eyes. "I'm sorry."

And I am. God, I fucking am. There's nothing that can ever undo what happened.

There's nothing that can ever fix us after this.

She begins rocking over me and I plant delicate kisses along her collarbone, remembering the knife I held up to it not too long ago. "I'm sorry, baby," I continue whispering between kisses. "It's all my fault, not yours."

I run my tongue along her pulse point, needing to feel it beat. "Never your fault," I murmur against her soft skin.

She skates her hand across my jaw and rests her forehead against mine as she begins picking up her shallow pace. "Take all the pain away, Ricky."

I wrap an arm around her lower back, lift my hips and thrust. Goosebumps dance along her flesh and she sighs my name.

I can't hold back my groan this time because it feels like heaven being inside her again, even though we're going through hell.

I repeat the movement and she scratches her nails down my back. "I hate you," she screams. "It's your fault."

The pain of those words slice through me but I caress the side of her face and gently kiss her tears away. "You're right. It is all my fault, Lou-Lou."

Her nails claw into my back again, this time drawing blood. "I hate you."

She leans back and I drag my tongue along her nipple before pulling it into my mouth and gently sucking. "It was all my fault," I repeat over and over again. "Not yours."

I'll take every ounce of blame and I'll fucking bathe in it so she doesn't have to. I'll let it chew me up and spit me out until it eats me alive and there's nothing left of my sick fucking soul.

I'll keep making love to her...even though she's making hate to me.

Her sobs soon turn into moans and she looks up at me in turmoil.

I know what she wants and what she needs right now, she just doesn't know how to ask me for it anymore...or worse, she doesn't believe she deserves it.

I bring my hand down between us until my finger lands on her clit. "I'll take care of you." I flick her clit and she sucks in a breath. "I'll take it all away."

I squeeze and knead her ass with one hand, circle her clit with my knuckle, and drive into her deeper. She begins to clench around me, her wetness coating my cock. I pull back until I'm almost completely out and slam into her so hard my balls tingle.

She mewls and a flush spreads over her chest and neck. I grip her clit between my two fingers and begin massaging it as I continue pumping in and out of her. When she's dripping down my balls and I know she's about to come, I grab her chin and kiss her like there's no tomorrow.

Hell, for me...there might not be.

She opens her mouth and moans and I can taste her tears in our kiss. I flick my tongue against hers slowly and sweetly as she rides out her orgasm. As soon as she's on the decline, I rub her clit again and she bucks her hips. I move my lips to the spot just under her ear and murmur, "I've got you, baby. This isn't over."

Because we'll never be over. Even when we are.

I lean back, fasten my hands on her hips and angle her so my dick hits her clit with every thrust. Her eyes flutter and she tosses her head back. I take the opportunity to lick and suck every inch of her exposed throat as she falls apart in my arms again and again.

"You can't kill him, Ricardo." She rolls over and looks at me. "The council will get their revenge."

I pull her into my arms and kiss her shoulder blade. "No, they won't. Because I'm all they'll have left."

She reaches up and grabs my face. "What about Jackson and Tyrone, huh? What about me? They could take one of us out. Did you ever stop and think about that?"

"I—" I stall, because I don't have a response. At least, not a well-thought out one.

She rubs her nose against mine and squeezes her eyes shut. "Do you love me?"

"Open your eyes," I tell her. When she does I say, "Ti amerò fino al giorno della mia morte ... e non solo." I will love you until my dying day and beyond.

"I don't know what that means," she whispers. "I thought I love you in Italian was, Ti amo?"

I slide my hand to the back of her neck and pull her close until our lips are almost touching. "It is. But what I feel for you goes far beyond that." I lean my forehead against hers. "My 'Ti amo' means I'd do anything in the world for you."

She drops her gaze before her eyes land on mine. "Then let me kill DeLuca."

Except that.