Chapter 142: 142

Eight Years Later

Azzurra sat at the pool’s edge, her legs submerged in the cool water, the night breeze brushing across her skin like a soft caress. Above, dark gray clouds drifted through the sky, gathering into a thunder-laden mass. The scene was wild and ominous, yet breathtaking in its own raw beauty.

She rubbed her arms against the chill, exhaling a quiet sigh when the water broke with a ripple. Marcello’s head surfaced, followed by his broad, powerful shoulders. He caught her gaze, then reached for her ankles, guiding her legs over his shoulders until his face rested between her thighs.

The shock of his cold, wet skin made her jolt, but her breath faltered when his lips closed around the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. His teeth grazed, then soothed with his tongue, while Azzurra threaded trembling fingers through his dripping hair.

Marcello trailed upward, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses dangerously close to her core. Azzurra bit down on her lower lip to stifle the sounds building in her throat, but when he brushed her panties aside and his tongue pressed against her slick heat, a broken moan escaped her.

Their eyes met his dark, hers wide, locked in a silent storm as his tongue explored her, slow at first, then deeper. His thumb found her bud, rubbing firmly until she jolted. The pressure built fast; she tried to push his head closer, chasing that unbearable bliss.

Her head tipped back, a whimper tearing free as her body convulsed in release. She barely had a moment to recover before Marcello yanked her straight into the pool with him. Water splashed violently, shocking her lungs as he ripped away her panties and plunged into her with one hard thrust.

Azzurra’s cry echoed across the pool, her hands clawing at the edge for balance. Marcello caught her wrists, holding her steady as he drove into her, each movement rough and merciless, filling her to the brink.

“Who told you to look so beautiful tonight?” he rasped against her ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe.

Her toes curled, body quaking, as she climaxed around him. Marcello groaned, shuddering with a deep growl as his release tore through him. She sagged, exhausted, but he hauled her back against his chest, his breath ragged against her neck.

“I wanted to swim, Marcello,” she whined, her voice trembling with the aftershocks.

“And I wanted to love you, Azzurra,” he murmured, voice thick with possession.

She gasped when he started moving inside her again, hard and relentless. “Not again ahhh!”

He tightened his grip, one hand closing around her throat as his thrusts grew punishing. “Say your safe word, tigress,” he growled, voice sharp with challenge.

But she clenched her jaw and met him stroke for stroke, never yielding. She had never used the word, not once. She trusted him blindly, wholly and he had never broken that trust. He might drive her to tears with the intensity of his love, but he never pushed her past what she could bear.

Outside, thunder rumbled, and rain poured in sheets, cloaking their wild passion in stormlight. Years had passed, yet their hunger for one another burned as fiercely as the first time.

Later, Azzurra padded out of the bathroom in soft nightclothes, her damp hair brushing over her shoulders. Marcello was on the couch, leafing through files. She leaned down to kiss his cheek before moving to the dresser, rubbing moisturizer into her arms and legs.

“Are you not done yet?” she asked gently.

“Almost,” he murmured, setting the files aside before dialing a number. His expression hardened as he listened.

“What do you mean you couldn’t find the trace? Sixteen humans were murdered,” Marcello bit out, his voice low and dangerous.

A pause. His jaw tightened. “Bring that bastard to me and keep looking for their leader,” he ordered before ending the call.

The mission known as Blood was still alive. Marcello had rooted out and executed countless traitors, yet the mastermind continued to slip through his grasp.

Justice in his kingdom was absolute. Just last week, three humans had stood trial for sedating and assaulting a she-wolf. When the evidence was presented, Marcello himself had ordered their immediate execution. There was no superiority, no untouchable race. Justice was equal for all.

Tomorrow, another traitor a werewolf who had slaughtered sixteen humans at his master’s command would die.

Marcello exhaled heavily and turned, finding Azzurra watching him with worried green eyes. He crossed to her, pulling her hands to his chest and holding her close.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, though his tone carried steel. “We’re close. We’ll find their leader, and when I do, I’ll give him a death so brutal he’ll wish for hell.”

A knock interrupted them. A soft, childlike voice followed.

“Mommy, Cesswario is mwissing.”

Marcello strode to the door and opened it. A small figure looked up at him with wide amber eyes that mirrored his own.

“Delfina,” Marcello said, a rare smile curving his lips.

The little girl hugged her oversized teddy bear tight, worry clouding her expression. She lifted her arms, and Marcello scooped her up with ease.

“Papa, Rosaria is mwissing too,” Delfina whispered, her voice trembling.