Valentina POV
The elevator felt like it took forever. Renzo stood right behind me, his hand resting possessively on my hip. His thumb traced small circles through my dress, sending little sparks across my skin. When the doors opened, he followed me inside without a word. The second the apartment door clicked shut, he turned me around and kissed me—slow, deep, and full of promise. His lips were warm, tasting faintly of whiskey, and I sighed into his mouth.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. “Tell me you want this, Valentina,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “All of me tonight. No walls. No audience. Just us.”
“I want you,” I whispered, sliding my hands up his chest. “The real you. Real us.”
His breath hitched. He kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue
