chapter 20 Aug 7, 2025 My face looks like I've gone ten rounds with my feelings and lost. Mascara tracks, puffy eyes, the whole tragic heroine starter pack. "What happened?" Elio's voice goes soft, careful. I wipe my eyes with his handkerchief-still can't believe he carries those-and let him pull me close. His cologne wraps around me like expensive armor. "We need to talk." I whisper it against his chest. "But not here." Too many eyes. Too many phones. Too many ways for this to become tomorrow's paddock gossip. "Can we continue the evening at your place?" Zero hesitation. "Of course." The drive to his hotel is silent except for Hungarian radio and my occasional sniffles. Elio's suite's bigger than most apartments, all marble and modern art and views that cost per night more than my salary. He pours wine, something red and probably worth a mortgage payment. I kick off the torture devices masquerading as heels and curl into his obscenely comfortable sofa. "So, what happened?" he asks again, settling across from me. I could text Adison. Could maintain boundaries. Could pretend this arrangement hasn't shifted into something dangerous. Fuck it. "I spoke with my father. It was… tense." Understatement of the century, but Elio nods like he gets it. Maybe he does. "Have you spoken to him? Or he to you?" Elio loosens his tie-casual destruction that shouldn't be attractive but is. "He called me in last week. Gave me the whole speech about dating rival team members. The risks. The complications." "And?" "I sat there knowing I was fake-dating his actual daughter and said nothing." His laugh is bitter. "He doesn't know that I know, either. Just warned me to be careful with you." The irony's delicious. We're both lying to Lorenzo De Marco, the man writing Elio's checks and my DNA. "Are you enjoying the fact that I feel guilty around your father?" The wine's hitting different on an empty stomach and an emotionally drained soul. "Maybe." He stands, shrugs off his blazer with unconscious grace. Mutters something about the long day while rolling up his sleeves, revealing forearms that have no business looking that good. I'm staring and of course he notices. "What?" The wine makes me brave. Or stupid. Same difference. "Aren't you even going to flirt? Not going to take advantage of the situation?" Something shifts in his eyes. Dark to even darker. "If that's what you want, I'll do anything you ask, darling ." The words hit like a direct injection of want. Thirteen months of Charles's half-measures and here's Elio offering everything on a silver platter. That moment in the boutique floods back. Imagining his hands, his mouth, what he'd be like when the cameras stopped rolling. Now I can find out. "Come here." He crosses the space between us like he's been waiting for permission. I grab his shirt, pull him down, and kiss him like I'm trying to prove a point. To who? Charles? My father? Myself? Doesn't matter. What matters is Elio's responding like I'm oxygen and he's been drowning. He presses me into the couch, weight and want perfectly balanced. I feel his control in every careful touch-holding back, waiting for permission to let go. "Eva…" My name sounds different in his mouth. Reverent. Real. "Bedroom. Now." Elio's arms are like steel bands wrapped around me less than a second after words left my mouth, his grip possessive and urgent as he carries me to the bedroom. His breath is ragged, hot against my neck, and I can feel the hard press of his cock straining against his trousers, already desperate for me. My heart hammers in my chest, thighs trying to clench instinctively at the thought of what's coming next. Elio doesn't set me down gently-no, he throws me onto the bed with a primal growl, and I bounce slightly on the mattress, already gasping for air. He's on me before I can even think, his body pinning me down, his hands everywhere at once. His lips crash into mine, hungry and demanding, and I moan into his mouth as his tongue claims me with a ferocity that makes my head spin. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to make me whimper, and then he's trailing his mouth down my neck, biting and sucking until I'm sure I'll be marked for days. "Elio…" I gasp, arching into him, my hands clawing at his back, desperate to feel his skin. He's wearing too many fucking clothes, and I need him naked. Now. I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, but he's already ahead of me, ripping it off like it's offended him. His chest is bare, sculpted and perfect. And I can't resist running my hands over him, feeling the hard muscles and the heat of his skin. He's panting, his cock straining against his trousers, and I reach for the waistband, desperate to free him. But he's not done with me yet, apparently. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head, and I'm helpless as he leans down to bite at my collarbone. His teeth sinking into my skin just enough to make me cry out. His free hand roams down my body, cupping my breast through my dress, thumbing my nipple until it's hard and aching. I writhe beneath him. "Fuck, Elio," I am begging for more, but he's taking his time. Savoring every fucking second of my torment. "Elio, please," I whimper, and he finally relents. When he released my wrists to yank my dress over my head, his mouth was on my breasts. Sucking and biting until I'm trembling with need, while his fingers slide down my stomach. He kneels between my legs, his hazel eyes now dark with hunger as he stares at me, and I can feel my pulse pounding between my thighs. Elio hooks his fingers into my panties, slowly pulling them down, and I lift my hips to help him. My breath is hitching as he finally sees me completely exposed. "Fuck, Eva," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "So perfect…" He doesn't waste any time. Oh no. He leans down, burying his face between my legs, and I cry out as his tongue finds my clit immediately, flicking it with expert precision. I'm already wet, soaking his mouth as he devours me. His tongue sliding inside me, curling and thrusting until I'm clawing at the sheets, desperate for release. "Elio, oh god!" I scream, my hips bucking against his mouth as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. He's relentless, his tongue working me over until I'm trembling with pleasure, and when he adds his fingers, thrusting them deep inside me and hitting that spot, I see a fucking stars. I come hard quickly enough, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave, and Elio doesn't stop. Licking and sucking until I'm whimpering, oversensitive and begging for mercy piece of mess. Only then does he pull back, lips glistening with my juices, and I can see the hunger in his eyes as he finally strips off the rest of his clothes. His cock springs free, thick and hard, and I'm already reaching for him, desperate to feel him inside me. Elio pushes my legs apart, settling between my thighs, and I wrap them around his waist, pulling him closer. When he lines himself up, the head of his cock pressing against my pussy, I'm panting and practically begging him to take me. "Eva," he growls, his voice rough with need. "You're fucking wild." And then he thrusts into me, filling me completely, and I scream his name as he begins to move, his hips slamming into mine with a force that leaves me breathless. He's relentless, fucking me with a desperation that mirrors my own, and I cling to him, my nails digging into his back as I meet him thrust for thrust. The room is filled with the sound of our bodies colliding, skin slapping against skin, and I can't think, can't breathe. Can't do anything but feel him deep inside me, stretching me, filling me, driving me closer and closer to the edge. "Elio… I'm close," I gasp, and he growls, pulling my legs up higher, changing the angle so he's hitting that spot that makes me see stars. "Come with me, Eva," he demands, and I do, my orgasm crashing over me with blinding intensity. He follows me over the edge, his release hot and pulsing inside me, and we collapse together, tangled and breathless, our hearts pounding in unison. He doesn't pull out of me right away, and I don't want him to. I want to feel him inside me, want to savor the way he fills me completely. He kisses me softly, his lips gentle against mine. Tomorrow, I'll deal with the consequences. Tonight? Tonight I'm falling asleep in the arms of my fake-boyfriend-turned-lover, pretending the morning won't bring reality crashing back. Spoiler alert: it always does.