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I eye him, wondering where this is going before I comply. Once my ass is facing him, he lifts my hips and hauls them closer to his shoulders. I have to fling my arms forward to catch myself.

“Wha—?” I start to ask what he’s doing when I realize his cock is inches from my face. Understanding dawns while he repositions, then tugs my hips backward until my pussy hovers over his face.

“That’s what. You’re going to sit on my face while you suck my cock.”

I take him in my hand, give him one more look over my shoulder, then suck him into my mouth.

Elio rumbles with satisfaction. “Need you to spread those knees wide, baby girl. Bury me in your sweet pussy.”

The dueling sensations are overwhelming at first—trying to pay attention to what my mouth is doing while simultaneously enjoying his tongue on my clit. It’s dizzying and makes me feel out of control.

The stubble on his chin grazes my entrance, igniting electric jolts of pleasure. I moan, taking him even deeper into my throat where he can feel the vibrations. The muscles on his thighs flex as he moans back at me. Then his hands leave my hips where he’d been holding me close to him in order to play with my breasts. The zing of pleasure when he squeezes my nipples is so intense, my hand accidentally squeezes tighter around his cock.

“Fuck, yes, buttercup. Squeeze me,” he rasps from beneath me.

I do as I’m told.

And when his tongue flicks my clit again while his fingers pluck at my nipples, the cacophony of sensations overflows, and I’m swept into an orgasmic river of pleasure.

I struggle to keep my rhythm, sucking his cock, muscle memory taking over when my mind blanks. Fortunately, my release summons his, and within seconds, I feel his dick grow impossibly hard before warm jets of cum spurt into my throat. I swallow and breathe and try not to pass out.

When we’re both spent, I collapse onto the bed next to him. Rather than make me move, Elio crawls over and wraps his body around mine. We lay like that, simply enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat and our closeness.

“I knew you weren’t DiAngelo, you know,” I say groggily. “I couldn’t explain it, but I knew something was off.”

Elio huffs a laugh. “Whatever. You thought D was hitting on you.”

“Yes and no. I knew he’d never do that, but it was more than that.”

“I’m a little surprised we still look so similar, even after being apart. Seeing my face on him after so long was strange. It gave me a glimpse of what other people experience when they can’t tell us apart.”

“Not me. I always could tell you apart—like you have different energies—I could just … tell.” I’m surprised at my own words because I realize they’re true. I’m not sure how. I didn’t spend a ton of time with them, but I’m certain I could distinguish them when most couldn’t.

I suddenly realize Elio stopped breathing. I lift and look back at him. He’s watching me, his gaze searching. Maybe even a little … optimistic? I’m not sure what he’s hoping to find.

“Everything okay?” I ask softly.

“Yeah … I think it is.” He sounds almost surprised as he pulls me back down into his arms.

It’s strange, but I’m too exhausted to question him. Within minutes, he has to hoist me around to get me under the covers before I fall into a deep, blissful sleep.

CHAPTER 41

ELIO

I need Isa to remember. All the other shit would be manageable if I could get her to remember how much she means to me. Because if her love was at all like mine, twenty years apart washed away the moment I saw her again as if the years without her had never happened.

If those memories resurface, I know she’ll be mine forever.

I won’t have to worry about her trying to run from me or have to question her motives. I’ll know her kindness comes from love and not pity or manipulation. Yes, kidnapping her put her in a position that lends itself to distrust, but only because I needed to keep her safe and had no idea she wouldn’t remember me.

I’d say none of this has gone according to plan, except I never really had a plan. I’m bumbling through this, one emotionally charged decision at a time. And at the moment, that means I’m not having sex with Isa until she remembers me. I swear to the gods above, I want her to truly see me the first time I push inside her again. See that I am her world the same way she’s mine.

I’m holding onto hope that it will happen.

Last night, when she commented that she could always tell DiAngelo and me apart, I thought for a second she might have connected some of the dots, since it was so similar to conversations we'd had in the past. I could have sworn her pause was a sign she was skimming the surface of those memories, but the moment evaporated before it could take shape.

I need something tangible to help bring it all back—something she can touch and see that will jog her memories. I know what that something is, but I’ve been hoping it wouldn’t come to that. At this point, however, I’ll do practically anything to get my Isa back.