#banchetto

You meet Mona's eyes offering her a look you know she will understand. Later. You will explain, you will have to but you need at least a few hours to let the fresh wounds settle. Mona leads you all through the preparation, having slotted naturally into the position while you had been away. It's a welcome distraction watching her work so well and you easily fall in to step behind her, letting the the controlled chaos of the kitchen temporarily plaster over the hurt.

Too quickly it seems, everything for lunch is done. The dishwasher full, the work stations sanitised and what used to be one of your favourite times of day now fills you with a sense of anticipatory dread. Once you say it, once you tell them out loud it will all be real. Not some horrible nightmare suffered during a first night in a new bed. It will truly be over.

A hand on your shoulder shakes you from your distraction, Lilly offers you a gentle smile and a cup of tea. The walk to the office feels far more monumental then it should. What used to be so familiar now uncomfortable, your very presence an overwhelming elephant in the room. No one offers any small talk. They just sit and wait and you know now you have to rip off the plaster. 

'I'm back now. For good,' you start there. It sounds simple but they know there is more so they sit and wait for you to continue. 

'Sister Imperator came to tell Papa this morning.' You stop with a shaky breath. You can't tell them about anything else you heard. It's not your place and the last thing you need now is to be the source of rumours about Copia's ascension.  

'I bet Papa wasn't happy!' Rich jokes awkwardly his laugh cutting off abortedly when Lilly gives him an unsubtle nudge. 

'He wasn't, no.' You try to contain your heartbreak but a single tear escapes, rolling down your cheek and it's as if everyone holds their breath. Mona reaches for you first and the second her arms encircle you the dam breaks and you find yourself sobbing in her arms. There is nothing you could say, no words to explain how you were feeling but they understood enough. The quiet comfort of your friends helps so when your tears finally run dry and Mona sends Lilly and Rich to begin the dinner preparations you manage to pull yourself back together. 

'We can cover tonight you know,' Mona offers as she gives you a handful of tissues. 'Go back to your room and get some rest.'

'I would rather be here I think,' you reply croakily, your voice still choked. 'I need the distraction for a little longer. Please.' 

'Ok,' she offers you a sad smile and pushes your hair out of your face. 'I know it doesn't feel like it right now but it will be ok.' 

'I don't know if I will be.' The hurt is crushing and yet you barely feel as if you have come to terms with it. It feels especially cruel coming after you finally admitting to him how you feel. You had one blissful night of certainty only to have it ripped away before you had even properly woken up. 'I love him Mona.'

'I know,' she replies, taking the tissues from you she wipes away the few remaining tears. 'But it will still be ok, eventually. Whether he proves himself worthy of that love or not.' You just nod, not sure if you entirely believe her. 

She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. You pick up the tea things automatically busying yourself at the first opportunity and she lets you. You place them by the sink gripping the edge with your fingers, grounding yourself in the pressure. You had done this hundreds of times before and you could do it again. 

It's as if your body switches into autopilot and time seems to run away. Your head blissfully empty as you lose yourself in the kitchen routines. Later it will hit you like a brick wall you are sure but at least for now you have a little peace. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Like a scab you can't help but pick you find yourself looking to the upper clergy table. His place, which presumably had been vacant all this time was still empty. A void left at the centre of the table. Tears prick at your eyes for what could be the hundredth time today, the thought of him shut in his room alone once again. He may have made his choice but you didn't have to like it. You didn't like it all but it was out of your control. You refused to stand by and be his emotional punching bag every time he was hurt. 

It was admittedly cruel the way that Sister Imperator had spoken to him, to tell him he must leave his home and his family. Everything that had happened to him in the last year was cruel but that didn't make it alright for him to be cruel to you in turn. You had barely touched your food as you ruminate, doing little more than push things around your plate. Despite the busy day your appetite was non existent. 

'Mona,' you lean close to your friend, trying not to draw anyone else's attention. 'I'm going back to my room.' She squeezes your shoulder with a sad smile you were becoming all too familiar with. 

'I can come with you,' she offers. She means well and you do appreciate it but you think you are finally ready for some time alone. In fact you need it. You only can shake your head in response.  'You know where I am if you need me.'

Being around so many people was only proving to emphasise the lack of the one person you really wished to see.  You give one last glance at the main table as you get up as if he might have appeared there in the few moments since you last looked. He hadn't and instead you caught Secondo's eye. In fact it seems you may have caught the attention of the three present Emeritus brothers. 

They have heard, undoubtably, you would guess from Sister Imperator rather than Terzo himself. But they must know him well enough to understand why you are here and not with him. Their eyes on you make you feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Quickly you turn to leave not feeling up to being subjected to their sympathy or understanding. Not when your hurt is still so raw.    

A group of siblings congregated at the dining hall door delay your escape, their excited chattering making them oblivious to anyone trying to get past. You can't help but look back one last time only to see Secondo is now missing from his place and your need to leave gets all the more urgent. 

With rushed apologies and excuses you push your way through the group and hurry away from the hall. Your hands begin to tremble, the inner turmoil finally breaking containment with the cold sanctuary of your room not too far away. 

You round the corner only to come face to face with the last person you wanted to see. Secondo stands in the doorway of the kitchen, clearly having anticipated your path. Not wanting to be rude you at least acknowledge him with a nod as you try to hurry past but his heavy hand catches your shoulder and you have no choice but to pause. 

'Sorella,' he says, stepping in front of you, blocking your path. His tone is hushed, mindful of the possibility of someone else coming around the corner at any moment. 'What ever has happened you need to talk to him.' 

'No I don't,' you hiss, an anger you hadn't even acknowledged yet finding its way out of you. He takes a step back, surprised and you instantly feel bad. He was not to blame for what had happened. You take a deep breath and push your hair out of your face with still trembling hands and tried to find at least some composure. 

'I'm sorry Papa but I do not.' Your voice sounds as shaky as your hands but you continue anyway. 'I will respect his wishes and if this is about anything I may have learned during my time with him please reassure him I will keep his confidence.'

'No you know its not that.' He seems frustrated and you stop yourself from wondering how his conversation with Terzo went. You can't bear to think about it 'You and he...'

'There is no him and me,' you interrupt. 'He made himself quite clear. I was there to do a job, and now that job has been completed.' It hurts just saying it out loud. Even if you are convinced he didn't really mean it. He said it and he did not take it back. 'Now if you don't mind I wish to retire for the night.' Before he can say anything you side step him and carry on your way. Your feet feel like lead, trying to keep your feelings in check all day having drained all your energy.

'Sorella you know he...' He turns as you walk past as if to follow you but you just can't do it any more.

'Please Papa no more.' Your voice cracks. Talking about it won't make it any easier, won't unsay the horrible things he said to you this morning. Whether its your voice or the way he must be able to see your eyes filling with tears he finally raises his hands in defeat.  

'Good night Sorella.' He looks frustrated and sad but you have nothing left in you to try and reassure him.  

'Good night Papa.' Finally free you continue on your way back to your room. The door seems to resist when you try and open it, a stiffness you hadn't anticipated making everything more difficult. You had only been away for one night and yet it felt like even your room was trying to emphasise the monumental shift your life had taken in the past day. 

You don't bother switching on the light, you just pull off your clothes and collapse in to bed. It should be a comfort, your bed, your sheets, but somehow you missed the scent of him, the warmth of him beside you. It's ridiculous you know it is and yet you feel it all the same.

You cry yourself to sleep, grieving for the future you had felt on the precipice of just the night before. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

As you prepare for the day the notebook sits on your desk, taunting you. You aren't going to to keep it. Your conscience wouldn't let you. But that didn't help you think how you could return it without giving it to him yourself. 

You couldn't go to Secondo. Not after last night but you needed it gone all the same. It comes with you to the kitchens as had been your habit since this whole thing began. It was blessedly quiet at least at this time in the morning. You had volunteered to take the breakfast shift almost as soon as you had returned and Rich was more than happy to give it up and have a lie in. 

The notebook continues to play on your mind though as you loose yourself in cooking. Breakfast is a more simple affair at the Abbey, fresh bread, eggs as many ways as you could imagine, meats, cheeses, oats, salad, fruit. Teas, coffee, fruit juice and filtered water. It was simple enough. A buffet laid out for people to pick and choose and once the initial preparation was complete the only real work was replenishing over the few hours the inhabitants were given for their morning pursuits. Clean up was usually handled by the lunch time crew before they started on whatever lunch was called for that day. 

It was a simple enough routine and more work than you had done in the months you had been working for Terzo but it still didn't distract you quite the way you had hoped. The first hour or so of breakfast was typically quiet. There were very few residents of the Abbey that were consistent early risers but you should have known that the Cardinal would be there. As he approached you where you were filling up the hot plates, he seemed to be having some kind of internal argument with himself.

'Having some trouble deciding what's for breakfast Cardinal?' You joke even if your voice comes out hollow. It seems to have been the right tact, his frown easing and any indecision he may have had about approaching you put to rest

'Good morning, Sorella,' he says cheerier then you feel. Now he has calmed somewhat you can feel the excitement rolling off him and you couldn't blame him for that. He deserved his time to shine just as any of the previous Papas. He has worked too hard not to earn his place, to be able to lead them all in earnest. The only dampener on your excitement was how this was coming at the expense of Terzo but you knew enough to know that wasn't Copia's fault. 

You check around you for any other siblings or clergy members close enough to hear your conversation while he bounces on his heels beside you, doing his best to seem as if he is only considering the breakfast options in front of him. 

'I hear some congratulations are in order,' you say in a whisper. He beams letting it all out for just a moment, his mind no longer on the breakfast buffet. He looks back at you and his smile falters. 

'Have you spoken to him since...' His voice trails off and you feel the black cloud bloom over the two of you. 

'He sent me away,' you say shortly, trying your best not to dwell too much on what was said the previous morning despite his angry words ringing in your head. 

'I'm sure he will...' He tries but you are tired of people trying to tell you what he would do. 

'No Cardinal he was quiet clear.' You don't want to be short with him or Secondo but you can't help feeling like they should be having these conversations with Terzo and not you. You don't say that though. It was never your place, even less so now. He looks sheepishly back at the buffet, the guilt in his expression clear though whether it is over what he had said to you or how his elevation was the catalyst of all this you couldn't tell.

'I do have to ask you something though Cardinal,' you say, taking the opportunity that was being presented to you. Putting down the spoon and tongs you were holding you pull the notebook from your pocket. Part of you does feel bad, taking advantage of Copia's guilt and revealing something so personal of Terzo's in the same action but Copia knew enough anyway and you were tired of twisting yourself in to knots to keep his confidence. This really was the best of a series of increasingly bad options. 

'Take this, please,' you plead trying to hand it to him but he takes a step back. 'Can you return it to him?'

'He won't see me, Sorella.' He shakes his head as he refuses. 'And I think it should come from you.' You start to object, your anger returning that they keep suggesting you go back to him. They knew him, you were sure they had been on the receiving end of his cutting temper and yet they wanted you to go back to him as if it was nothing. Secondo and now Copia too. 

'I'm sorry but I can't help you with this.' His regret is evident and you feel bad for your internal anger. This situation was horrible for everyone, Terzo included. 'I have my own matters to resolve with him before he leaves.'

'That's ok Cardinal.' You watch him dejectedly fill his plate at last. He offers you a final sad smile before leaving which you try to return. For a moment you watch him make his way back to the Clergy table, the notebook held in your hands before some approaching siblings snap you out of it. Heading back to the kitchen you look at the fraying cover as you had so many times before and the sadness washes over you once more. This was not how it was supposed to be. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The letter arrives a few days later after lunch, timed perfectly for your down time. As you take it from the ghoul who had appeared at the door you wonder if it was the one you had seen before. It could be, you find it so hard to tell them apart, not that it mattered but the thought is a distraction from the unsteadiness of your hands as you unfold the note. You know it's from Primo before you open it, but that doesn't stop you from hoping Terzo had had a change of heart and was reaching out.  

Sorella, 

Please come and see me in the greenhouses at your soonest convenience. 

Primo. 

You try to stifle your disappointment but it festers inside you even so. With every day that passes your little well off hope runs dry. You had been too hurt at first to even entertain it but as the days crept on you couldn't help thinking perhaps this would be the day he reaches out.  

You let Mona know you are heading out instead of joining them for break and you see the same hope reflected in her. It feels almost worse to disappoint her but you have to with a shake of your head. You show her the letter quickly before taking your leave not wanting to linger more than you needed too in this discomfort. 

It doesn't take long to find him, following the soft sounds of his puttering to the back of the large greenhouse. He is tending to rows of potted seedlings spraying the soil ever so precisely until he notices your presence. 

 You can't help but feel a sense of deja vu here, having sought him out on many occasions for guidance for one thing or another. This time was by far the most daunting. You are under no illusions that he doesn't at least have an idea about what had happened between yourself and his brother even if he doesn't quite understand all the details but that didn't make broaching the topic any easier.     He says nothing just places the spray bottle down on his workbench and waits. 

Words elude you and instead all you feel is a building resentment. Surely he knew this might happen. That you might fall for Terzo. Maybe he thought you would be able to fix him and that wasn't fair. That was Terzo's responsibility not yours. Clearly some of his wounds ran too deep for him to truly let someone in and even days after you had yet to hear a hear a word from him. You didn't know how he was, what he was doing, when he would be leaving. It was just all too much and as you stood there in front of Primo it all became overwhelming.  

Your inner turmoil must be have been clear on your face because all he offers you is a sympathetic smile and a seat at the bench beside him. With a sigh you sit down heavily and force yourself to speak.

'You have spoken to him?' He doesn't look surprised at your question even though you are. Part of you wishes to rail and shout about how unfair it all is but you can't fight your instinct to just care for him whether that is welcome anymore or not.

 'I have.' he replies simply.  

'Is he ok?' It is a stupid question really but you ask it anyway. 

'No.' You aren't sure if that makes you feel better or worse. 

'I didn't think so.' He doesn't elaborate and as much as you want to press, you don't. You understand the need to keep his confidence all too well and you could hardly blame him from shielding his brother.

'You still care very much then.' It isn't even a question and you snort in indignation.  

'It's not something I can switch off so easily.' If it sounds accusing it is because you are. It's not that you believed what he said about you but the motivation behind it that you couldn't understand. That his pride and anger were so much stronger than his feelings for you. 

'You know he can't either,' he says so matter of factly. 

'At first I thought not but I don't know anymore.' He drops his head to his chest and you start to feel that resentment slip away as easily as it grew. If he had pushed you away the likelihood was he was doing exactly the same to his brothers. He looks so tired, wrung out just like you. No you were not the only one feeling like this. 

'Will you give him this?' You ask, sliding the note book on to the bench in front of him. He blinks down at it slowly, the strain even more apparent on his aged face. 

'No Sorella,' he says quietly but firmly.  

'Please.' Your voice comes out thick with emotion, as your eyes fill with tears. 

'No,' He finally looks at you, eyes full of sympathy. 'Not because I don't want to help you but you need to do this yourself.' 

'Why?' The damn of your feelings break with his refusal, all your hurt and frustration pouring out of you. 'Why do you all keep insisting? He did this to me.' It feels like the are all trying to push you back towards him and yet it was his fault. If he hadn't lashed out at the first sign of trouble you would be by his side still.

'He did, he did Sorella.' His arm wiry yet strong wraps around your shoulders as you cry. 'And he was wrong for what he has done to fill you with such sadness but ...'

'But what?' You can't help but cut him off. 'I need to give him another chance? Another opportunity to brush me off, diminish what we had, what he felt, because he can't manage his feelings?' A part of you feels wrong, talking to Primo about his brother like this but he needed to know why. Why it wasn't fair to ask you to just go back and risk him treating you the same way all over again with no remorse. 

He squeezes your shoulder and just lets you cry it out. It feels good to surprisingly let it out finally to someone who understands. He was your mentor, the man who introduced you to this place. It's as though he knew you needed this. Maybe you should feel slightly manipulated but maybe he also knew you needed an outlet that you couldn't have with Secondo or Copia or Terzo even. He stands slowly patting your shoulder reassuringly before he leaves you sitting there. 

The sounds of the greenhouse calm you as you wait, knowing he wouldn't just leave without a purpose. The constant trickle of the irrigation and the drip drip drip of condensation. The outside world seems to get further away as you sit, letting your tears gradually run dry. After what could have been minutes, or hours he returns with two steaming cups of tea and despite it all you still manage to muster a smile. 

He watches you blow over the rim of your mug, cooling the drink before taking your first sip. It's your favourite blend of sweet earl grey and you hum in appreciation. He is still watching you and you sense a hesitancy in him and somehow you know he is going to ask something from you. 

'What is it?' You ask with no bite.

'We are having a meal together before he leaves.' He states and you know what he wants before he even speaks the words. 'Will you help me?'

'Papa I can't.' Tears you didn't know you had left spill down your cheeks. You are so tired of feeling so torn. Part of you wants to but you can't help but fear his reaction. 'He doesn't want to see me.'

'Do you really believe that Sorella?' He looks at you seriously his mismatched eyes seeming to stare in to your soul, so similar yet so different to his brother. 'I do not.' He sounds so certain you almost believe him. 

'Couldn't one of the others help?' You ask but he shakes his head stopping any further suggestions from you.

'I do need your help but you need to do this.' He insists gently. 'For you. For closure.' He is right but you are reluctant to admit it. Yes you are scared, but the thought of never seeing him again, of not giving him one last chance fills you with a deeper dread. 

'Ok,' you finally agree. It feels like a defeat and a relief simultaneously. He cups you cheeks, gently wiping away your tears before letting you finish your tea. He sits with you quietly for a while longer letting you rebuild your composure after such an emotional outpouring. He lets you set down your mug before handing the notebook back to you. 

'Give this back to him then Sorella,' he tells you gently. 'And if you can, give him one more chance.'  

You leave feeling lighter than when you arrived, surprised by the sense of purpose Primo's request had filled you with. One more chance.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • You don't hesitate to use the notebook recipes for this last meal. It feels almost poetic to make their last meal as a family from the thing that may have caused the whole series of events to come to pass. If he hadn't given you this notebook then you would have quit after a week and carried on with your life. And, despite all the heartbreak you would never forget all you had learned and enjoyed cooking over the last few months. 

Primo had made no specific requests so you pull out all the stops. Regardless of the outcome for you, this should be a night to remember for them and nothing short of an extravagant Italian banchetto would do. As you plan, course by course you go back through all the recipes you had made and enjoyed building every course into the whole. 

Unlike what you were used to courses were served together bringing meats, vegetables, pastas and salads together so those enjoying the feast could pick and choose what they wanted. Every element needed to work harmoniously, to build flavours and textures together. It was a challenge but you were up to the task. 

Everything you can is prepared ahead of time and you enlist Lilly's help to bring it all together. She loved being able to learn from you and you felt more comfortable with her at your side. If anything didn't go to as expected then at least you could rely on her to make sure the brothers enjoyed their last meal. 

Primo had commandeered the clergy meeting room for the night, quite rightfully avoiding trying to get him to any of their individual quarters. Neutral ground was best he had assured you but as the planned time of their arrival crept closer you started to feel sick with nerves. 

There was some closure in doing this, you felt it already but as time passed you became less and less certain that he would even come. He might still be too deep in his hurt and self loathing but you hope if nothing else in the few months you spent together he had grown enough not to waste the opportunity to spend some quality time with his family. With those who care about him and would miss him when he leaves. 

'Everything is perfect,' Lilly reassures you, taking the serving spoons you had been arranging and rearranging for the last few minutes from you. It was all perfect. You had accounted for everything but you just couldn't stop yourself from fidgeting. 

'You are quite right, Sorella.' You both jump a little when Primo enters the room. 'You have out done yourself!' 

'Thank you Papa but I couldn't have done it without Lilly's help.' You gesture towards her and Primo follows smiling at her warmly. Lilly still not used to spending much time around the leaders of your church bows awkwardly when his attention turns to her. 

'No need for formalities child, thank you too for all your help.' She squeaks out an acknowledgement and you shoo her back to tend to the food as you wait.  

'Ah Copia come in come in.' He welcomes him, directing him to a seat across the room.

'Primo, Sorellas,' He smiles a both of you but you can tell he is nervous. You wonder if he had managed to speak with Terzo yet. 'I thought I might be late.' He does seem more relaxed then when you had seen him at breakfast. You offer him a smile in return and hope he understands you have no hard feelings towards him. 

'No no Copia, I am sure Terzo intends to arrive fashionably late as usual.' Primo replies good naturedly. He settles himself at the head of the table just as Secondo arrives. 

'No sign of him yet then?' He quips as he sits across from Copia, leaving one seat left open. He looks the most tired of them all and you feel even worse for snapping at him.

'Wine Papa?' You offer the other two's glasses already filled. 

'You look better Sorella,' he murmurs as you lean over. 

'I am thank you Papa,' you say matching his tone. Because in many ways you do. He gestures to you when you have poured enough. 'I wanted to apologise for ...' You start but he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

'No need,' he reassures you before continuing. 'In fact I should ...'

'Also no need,' you interrupt him in turn. You were both clearly feeling the impact of what had happened that day but no one was at fault. He nods at you again and you step aside feeling another one of your worries lifting. 

They chatter amongst themselves for a few minutes and while Lilly was busy tending to the hot plate you take your opportunity, taking out the notebook and holding it ready to handover. 

'Do you think he will come?' Questions Copia as he notices you, almost seeming reluctant to voice the very real possibility. 

'He would not speak with me,' Secondo mutters. You aren't surprised but you feel for him. The closeness you knew they had likely caused Terzo to shut him out in a similar way he had you.  

'He will come,' Primo states, sitting confident and patient. His surety should be reassuring and yet you feel like seeing him disappointed might break them all. They fall in to tense silence, the only sounds the ticking clock and the muted comings and goings of the rest of the Abbey. Five minutes pass, then ten. You can see Lilly shooting you concerned glances, much of the food could not sit for much longer but you send her a reassuring look. It won't be much longer whether he arrives or not. When it reaches fifteen minutes you finally give up. You give her the sign and she starts plating the dishes while you address the waiting men.

'Papa, I appreciate what you were trying to do but he isn't coming.' You say, placing the notebook where he should have been sat and heading for the door. They all stand as if they would try and stop you but you just shake your head sadly. 'He isn't coming.' It hurts to say and you feel your last shred of hope dissipating as you do. You give them one last look before opening the door only to come face to face with Terzo himself. 

'Who isn't coming?' His smile is sheepish but the joke falls flat, everyone in the room just looking at him in silence. You take one step back then another and another until he has more than enough room to enter but still he lingers in the doorway. He looks, surprisingly good at least physically not that you really expected otherwise. It would take more than a few days for him to get to the point he had been at the start of your arrangement. When he looks at you though he looks like he wants to be sick and like he has never been happier at the same time. 

'Terzo you have kept us waiting enough, come and sit down,' Secondo chides him but he waves him off. 

'Cara I ..' he begins but you turn, picking up the notebook and handing it to him. 'No,' he refuses pushing it back towards you. 'That belongs to you now.' 

'Papa please it's important to you,' you insist and try and hand it back to him.  

'That's why I want you to have it,' he says simply and you can't help but feel exasperated. All you want is to return it to him and yet everyone was making it impossible. Before you can argue further though he drops to his knees before you. 

'I owe you more than an apology,' he starts offering you his hands and you find yourself frozen. Yet again he has defied all your expectations. Even in the best possible scenario you never imagined him being like this in front of his brothers. Hesitantly you take his hands. You want to help him up these hard wood floors wouldn't be good on his knees but you know he is stubborn and won't get up until he has said his piece.   

'I am a selfish, greedy, prideful man and instead of cherishing you for the blessing you were I have treated you terribly time and time again. You cared for me and look you are still here, you still did all this for my brothers and for me.' His voice sounds thick as he speaks and while you don't disagree with him none of what happened would have stopped you from caring about him. 

'Many people, they accuse me of not taking things seriously, but I have never been more serious about anyone or anything. How I treated you the other day, was not a representation of that and I am so sorry.' His eyes bore in to yours and you can feel his sincerity. 

'We Emeritus men are taught to be proud, but of this... I am not proud, not proud at all to have shown my ass in this way, to have not held onto one single lesson you taught me in these last months....what a discredit to the woman you are, and the man I want to be.' Your breath catches, to hear him talk of the impact you have had on him it's validating and equally painful. 

'I won't ask for your forgiveness not now,' He blinks back tears as he finishes and you want nothing more then to pull him in to your arms but he is right to give you time. You both need time. 'But I will ask you at least give me some of your time so I can even begin to make this up to you.' 

'I ...' You find yourself at a loss for words even though you knew your answer as soon as you laid eyes on him today. Articulating it though is another matter. 'Yes,' you say quietly before looking towards the others and seeing them quietly watching the two of you. 

'Have the dramatics finished now?' Secondo asks, not quite able to disguise his proud smile. 'Some of us are hungry fratellino.'

Terzo scoffs but relents, letting you help him back to his feet with a soft grunt. He finds his way to his seat and Primo gestures widely at the table

'Will you join us Sorella?' He asks. There was more than enough food you were well aware and had all faith that Lilly was more than up to the task, she had already resumed plating up the food without waiting for your say so. 

But taking a moment you realise you feel slightly numb from his declaration. He always manages to do this to you, sweep your feet from under you and leave you off balance. Under other circumstances you would love to join them but you need some time to clear your head. 

'No, I don't think I will,' Terzo whips around to look at you but your hand finds his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. 'Thank you for the offer Papa, really. I just I need some time. As do you all.' 

Primo nods in understanding and slowly the others each the same. Terzo reaches for you and you offer him that connection, taking his hand in yours. 

'Enjoy your meal please,' you say to the table at large before turning to him. 'I will meet you in the garden when you are ready.' You smile at him and then the others. Hoping you don't look as far removed from your body as you feel. You briefly check in with Lilly but she promises she will be fine. 

'Buon appetito gentlemen,' you say with a bow before taking your leave. For a moment you lean against the door, until you hear the low hum of their voices in the room. He needs this time with his family as much as you and he need to talk. You had waited the majority of the week, what was a few more hours. You wander the corridors  until you find the door you were looking for that leads you to the only place you would be able to think clearly.  

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

He finds you on your usual bench watching the sunset across the moon garden. There is a reservation in how he approaches you, hesitating at the edge of your vison as if unsure of his welcome. You offer him a smile and only then does he approach seeming a different man entirely than the cold and isolated one who you left a few days ago. 

He sits down heavily, leaving space between you. Too close and yet still too far now you are both in this limbo. He almost starts, drawing in a deliberate breath and yet he says nothing, letting the silence stretch. It isn't awkward in the usual sense, silence wasn't an uncomfortable place for the two of you but there was a weight to the conversation you needed to have. You appreciated his initial apology but that didn't make everything right, or return things to how it had been before. He sighs quietly and rests his hand between you on the bench. The gesture familiar and with barely a thought you rest your hand on top of his. 

'I am leaving in two days,' he starts. You aren't surprised but your heart still seizes at the confirmation.

'Where are you going?' It's hardly the most pressing concern but you want to know and any other questions feel too big for the quiet moment. 

'When I was touring I ... I did some unsanctioned digging. I found my mother.' That was not what you had been expecting. 'We had been in Florence when I was a child so in between rituals in Europe I went.' Just from his words you can tell how difficult that had been for him. You wait for him to continue while he gathers his thoughts.

'She wasn't there, not anymore. But I found out she had gotten married and moved out in to the countryside.' Part of you feels guilty now, that for all this time you had been making this woman's recipes you had been thinking of her in the abstract. Yes you had always felt questions wouldn't be welcomed by him but even on your own you had thought of her in the past. 'I found her.'

'Did you go and see her?' You would have hoped he might have mentioned if he had but even now you are realising how many things you don't know about him.

'No no, I didn't,' he says, voice tinged with regret. 'There was never the time and well. I wasn't sure if she would even want to see me.'

'But I have written to her and ... I'm going to stay with her and her family. Just for a while.' The sadness of having to leave clearly weighs heavily on him but you can sense the spark of happiness in him, the excitement. Getting to rediscover the first life that was stolen from him by the Clergy even as he is removed from this one by them too.

'Terzo, that's amazing.' Just the thought of him reconnecting with his family alleviates so many of your worries. If there was one thing the notebook made clear it was how much his mother had cared for him and you had no doubt that her family would give him a warm welcome. You pull him in to a hug unable to contain your joy. He hesitates for just a moment before pulling you close, his face buried in your shoulder. 

'I still hate that the clergy has done this to you,' you say, because you do. The way he had been treated, the things you had learned about him and his brothers was making you question so much about this place you had thought of as home. 'But I am so happy for you.'

'That's the Clergy for you.' He pulls back so he can look at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. 'We will all get chewed up and spit out eventually.'

For a moment you just sit together, ruminating on everything that had happened. So much had changed in just a few months, some for better and some for worse but it was hard for you to imagine ending up here with him under any other circumstances. 

'Cara mia,' he pauses, looking out into the garden and wringing his hands. 'You could ... You could come with me.' You take his hands in yours again with a sigh. 

'I ...' You start but you have to think carefully about how to word your response. He looked so hopeful, and while part of you really wanted to just say yes, you know that is not what either of you needed. 'Terzo I ..'

'You are questioning everything no?' He cuts you off before you can even start, rushing to head off any of your reasons before you can even give them. 'I can tell. Come with me and we can ...' He grasps at you hands, an almost frantic look in his eyes that you know you need to calm. 

'Terzo please.' You wait for him to stop and it hurts to watch him deflate. He knows you are about to refuse but you just hope that he will listen. 'I can't, not right now,' he opens his mouth interrupt but you give him a stern look. 'I am not saying no. I am saying not right now.' He nods, he knows deep down you are making the right decision but it goes against his impulse to pull you as close as he can and not let you go.

'This has all been a lot,' you continue. 'What we have is so new and has been so fraught.' He winces but you squeeze his hands in what you hope is reassurance. 'If we are going to work we need to take it slow.' 

'It is really not a no?' His voice cracks as he asks. You rest your hand on his cheek, easing his face towards you, unable to resist stroking him with your thumb.  

'You need time to reconnect with your family on your own terms,' you remind him. You can sense how important this will be and while you are fully in support of him it is something he must do on his own. 'Without any distractions.'

'You are not just a distraction,' He responds indignantly but you just role your eyes affectionately.  

'You know that's not what I meant!' You chide him. 'We both need time and that's ok. Go, get settled and once you are I will come to you.'  

'You are right, Cara mia,' he concedes. 'Sometimes I think think you know me better than I know myself.' He scoops up you hands in his once again and kisses across your knuckles. You had missed his easy affection.  

'I don't know about that I just ...' You pause again needing to be careful with your wording. 'I care for you so much but I can't be your emotional punching bag. I want to do this with you but we need to make sure we are both able to give our best.' His face drops again but he nods in agreement. He has said as much in front of his brothers but you needed some reassurance now it was just the two of you. 'It will be hard and I will miss you terribly but I want to make this work if you do too.'

'I do.' He says he it with such certainty as he tucks your hair behind your ear. 'Do you remember what you told me once about how to save a dish when you have added all the wrong seasoning?'  

'I think I recall yes.' It takes you a moment to remember but you do, back to near the beginning when he used to watch and quiz you while you cooked. Even before you really started to fall for him. 'That you need to find the right flavours to balance out the mistakes?'

'Si! For the longest time I knew I was unhappy and I blamed the things that had happened to me, what was taken from me but now I realise that it is up to me now to add the things to my life that will improve the flavour.' He is so earnest as he speaks and while you hadn't realised how metaphorically he had been taking your cooking lesson it makes so much sense. 'Anger and resentment will only continue to add more of what I find distasteful and stop me enjoying what I really want.'

'That's a very good way to put it.' He isn't wrong and while the future is still uncertain with his words he wipes away many of the reservations you may have had. He needed to realise he was getting in his own way and he had. 'And I am glad you feel that way now. That was a very appt metaphor I gave you even if I didn't realise at the time.' He laughs along with you but his smile turns earnest once again. 

'You have taught me a lot mia Cuocoina and no matter what happens I will never regret the time we have spent together.' You don't feel like you deserve as much credit as he has given you but before you can argue he continues. 'Apart from one thing. I feel like I have wasted this last week when we could have been ...' He quirks his brow at you a smirk pulling at his lips as he trails off. 

'We still have a couple of days left,' you remind him although it comes out a little breathless.  

'We do.' His voice melts low and seductive as he takes your hand more firmly in his. 'And we should make the most of every second.' His eyes darken and you can almost feel the way he looks over you. There will be plenty of time for conversation in the future so you agree with him completely. 'Will you stay with me tonight?' 

'Yes,' you agree without a seconds hesitation. 

'Then let us return to my rooms while they are still mine.' He stands, pulling you to your feet and then offering you his arm. You feel as though you about to embark on the longest walk of your life. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

There is a delicious tension but no rush as the two of you walk back to his room. The whole evening feels like some sort of dream, the meal, his apology, your plans for the future. You try to ground yourself as you go, to make sure this was reality. You can smell the sweet scent of the night blooming flowers giving way to candle smoke and old stone as your journey progresses. The song of the nightbirds you can hear slowly dampened by the soft echoes of your footsteps. 

The cool night breeze feels fresh against your face and his surprisingly soft hand warmly encasing yours. The white and green of the garden had turned greyscale in the dimming light but you can still see his handsome face, softened and relaxed in the shadow. The almost peppermint tang of the evening air soothed by the wine warm taste of his mouth as he steals kisses from you.  

It may seem like a dream but no dream could conjure up the perfect details of this evening. You move through the space as if you were dancing, not with the fervour of the last time he took you to his room. You want him of course, the pleasurable churn of arousal fills your stomach as you get closer but there is a surety now that you hadn't realised had been missing. As if all the time you had spent together in the past had an inevitable but unforeseen end hanging above you on a fraying thread. It had snapped and it had hurt you more then you had ever imagined but now you were both free of it and you had still chosen each other. 

You were under no illusions that the future would be easy but you were prepared for that now. There will be times when you missed each other, when you hurt each other but as long as you continued to choose each other and to choose to be better you would always have a future. 

He senses your mind whirring, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you approach his room.

'You are ok, cara mia?' He doesn't sound worried just caring and you feel almost overwhelmed by your love for him for a moment. 

'I am, I was just making sure this was real.' It probably sounds silly but you don't care.

'I understand.' He kisses your forehead again, eyes closed but just taking your presence before him in. 'I know I don't deserve your forgiveness for how I have treated you.' 

'Terzo,' you start to cut him off.

'No please let me tell you.' You rest your hands on his chest and feel his voice rumbling as he continues. 'I' will make it up to you every day for the rest of our lives.'

'I forgive you,' you remind him, kissing him soundly.

'I know and I will do it anyway,' he says against your lips as he cradles your head in his hands. His fingers wind through your hair and he kisses you deeper pouring everything he is trying to say in through your joined lips and you feel it.  You try to communicate right back that you accept it and you accept him. You're both panting when you break apart clinging to each other but he smiles and everything softens as he eases you to sit down on the bed. 

He kneels before you looking up at you with such clear admiration it makes your heart ache. He lifts your foot into his lap, undoing the buckle of your shoe before pulling it off and setting it to the side. He reaches for the other but finds you anticipating him, footed lifted and read to make his task easier. He tuts at you and looks at you pointedly until you set it in his hand. 

'For all this time you have been letting me take take take from you mia cuocoina.' With the other shoe removed her pulls off your socks one at a time, resting your feet back in his lap. You try to reassure him but he lifts a finger to quiet you before you can even start. He rubs your feet, his strong fingers soothing aches that you hadn't even realised where there so you lean back on your elbows in surrender and let him do as he pleases. 

'It is my turn to look after you now.' He works diligently caressing your ankles massaging your calves taking his time to seek out every spot of tension until you begin to melt under his hands. You give up any pretence of watching him or attempting to hurry him along and lay back, taking his words to heart and just letting him take care of you. As he reaches your thighs he edges closer, spreading your legs apart to make room of him between them. The hem of your dress is inched higher and higher as he works until it sits at your waist. 

His hands leave you for the first time in what feels like an eternity to help you out of the garment, pulling it over your head with ease. Your underwear is next, he removes your bra with practiced ease and then slides off your underwear without you hardly having to move. He settles back between your legs his lips pressing soft to your knee, so soft it almost tickles but he has no intention to tease you, not today. He is being thorough though, taking his time to lavish attention on every part of you he can reach. His hands follow the path of his lips, encouraging you to open up to him and accept his adoration. 

He nuzzles at the hair at the apex of your thighs taking a moment to breathe you in before he takes his first taste. It's only when he touches you that you realise how wet you are, having been so lost in his attentions but your harmonising moans bring you crashing back into your body. You at the feel of him devouring you and him at the taste of you now coating his tongue. 

He works you until you are shaking and over sensitive, your climax barely registering as he pleasures you for his enjoyment as much as your own. Your hands which were once pulling him closer, fingers wound in his hair start to pull him away instead. He follows your lead reluctantly but there is a sparkle in his eyes when you finally are able to muster the energy to open yours. 

His cheeks are flushed and slick with your arousal as he smiles up at you. You need a break and yet you don't think you will ever get enough. He crawls up the bed taking in the wreck he has made of you with a smug smile. He settles beside you and just watches you catch your breath and you can't look away from him. 

You trace the perfect lines of his face with your fingers, he looks lighter some how. Now the expectations of the clergy and the uncertainty of his future had been lifted. It looks good on him and you have no doubt that the time he will spend in Italy will only make it more so. You want him desperately

Desire gives you the energy you need to crawl on top of him, encouraging him to roll on to his back so you can drape yourself across his body, peppering kisses along your journey. You could hear his heart beat where you where you settled, your ear pressed to his chest taking another brief moment to rest. His arms encircle you holding you close and you relish in the skin to skin contact you had spent so long yearning for but so little time exploring. You felt boneless with satisfaction yet at the same time completely insatiable. And you needed him to know. 

You nuzzle at his chest nipping and kissing at all the skin you can reach. Skimming you fingers through his chest hair down to squeeze his thick waist. The soft give of him under your hands making you slowly grind yourself on his hard cock trapped between you. It is wet and messy but it only makes you want more.

The need to have him inside you was almost overwhelming but you couldn't stop worshipping his body. Hard plains given way to soft curves you could sink into and all because of you. The care you had given him, the love you had channelled through his secretive recipes making him look and feel so cherished. You had always thought him attractive before but now you were ravenous for him and he revelled in your attention as you all but worshipped him with fingers and teeth. 

As much as he seemed to enjoy the frenzy you were working yourself in to, feeling so wanted for exactly who he was rather than who he pretended to be or the power he represented he stops you. Gripping your shoulders pulling in to a searing kiss. 

'You see me for what I really am.' He pants between kisses. 'Who I really am. I owe it to you to be the man you see.'

'Don't owe me anything,' you say, trying to shush him,. Trying to capture his sweet words with your mouth but he soothes you, his large hand smoothing down your spine, calming your frantic movements for the moment. He holds your hips guiding your movements until he is poised to slide his cock right in to you. But he pauses, holding you on the brink as he so often likes to do. 

'It felt like half of me was missing after you left,' he admits. 'We fit together so well.' 

'We certainly do,' you laugh breathlessly taking the opportunity to sink down his length. His eyes roll back in his head and then he chuckles breathlessly. 

'For once I was not speaking with innuendo but you are right.' You aren't sure if you believe him or not but you can't think of anything but getting closer to him so you do. Your kissing is as messy as your fucking, the need to be as close as possible superseding finesse. Tongues slide together as you pant into each others mouths, hips pressed together as you move its perfect and not enough all at the same time. 

Whines fall from your lips as need claws at your insides. Too far gone to articulate the way you want him but he knows some how. He always knows. Sitting himself upright and taking control of your hips. He lets you grind for a moment longer before pushing you off him. 

You want to protest, to cry out but before you can he is manhandling you into position across the bed opposite the free standing mirror that had inspired the beginning of all this and despite the complaints caught in your throat you know you need this, need him to take control.

'Let me look at you,' he says brokering no argument. He helps you up from your knees until your back pressed against him. You can feel his cock wet against your ass but despite your squirming and wordless protest he doesn't give you what you want. 

His arm wraps around your waist, holding you close and still. He cups your breast in his hand, thumb teasing at your nipple already so sensitive to his touch. His other hand slides down your stomach and in between your legs. His deft fingers finding your clit with ease and circling torturously slow. 

'Do you remember?' He asks as he watches you fall apart in the mirror and you can't look away from his piercing eyes. 'Catching me like this? Watching me like this?' Your whole body shudders, whether from the memory or the feel of his fingers slipping inside you you couldn't say. 

'Do you?' He asks again, his voice more insistent as he holds his fingers still inside you.  

'I do yes!' You moan and he rewards you with a measured flex of his fingers. 'I wanted to join you even then,' you admit, remembering the way his body had looked under his own hands. 

'I'm glad you didn't,' he grunts as he grinds against your ass, his reaction somewhat misaligned with his words and yet you understand. 

'Me too.' If you had joined him then you know this never would have got so far. He would have fucked you and that would have been that. Growing tired of his own teasing he pushes you gently to all fours in front of him.

'Keep looking at me,' he tells you and your eyes lock with his in the mirror. It takes all the will power you have left not to let your eyes slip shut when he fucks in to you again. The sweet slick stretch of him filling you completely. 

If you're being honest, more than any of the other things you were appreciating, the factor that made waking up here far superior to waking up anywhere else is that you are waking up next to him. When wakefulness had first found you, your face had been nuzzled in his chest, the two of you having gravitated towards each other in your sleep until you had been using his arm as a pillow and had tucked a leg between his. His gentle snores had been ruffling the hair at the top of your head, that and the soft chirping of birds in the garden the only sound you could hear in late morning. You hardly wanted to move at all but as you stirred he had rolled onto his back giving you an even more pleasing view.

There was little chance of falling back to sleep now instead you watch him sleeping peacefully. You roll closer following his heat leaving you perfectly positioned to have your chin propped on his chest. His hair is laying mussed, salt and pepper waves tousled across the pillow, his face relaxed in a way you had never seen as he sleeps. It may just be your imagination but you think you can see a smile on his lips. 

Perhaps you were flattering yourself in your romantic reverie but since your confession the night before he had appeared to glow with happiness. His contentment was palpable though he hadn’t responded in kind and yet you weren’t worried. The way he had looked at you, touched you, it left you in no doubt at the depth of his feelings. Even if he wasn’t able to put it into words yet, you had known then that he needed to hear it from you. He needed to understand how much you had come to care for him. You push a lock of hair out of his face and he almost follows the journey of your hand seeking the warmth and comfort you are offering until your hand is rested on his cheek.

He breathes deeply, seeming to sense you watching, his mismatched eyes blinking open slowly. After a stretch of his arms and a groan he pulls you closer until you are lying almost completely on top of him. 

‘Buongiorno mia cuocoina,’ he says through a yawn. 

‘Good morning,’ you murmur back, closing what little distance is left between you for a kiss. It’s slow and comfortable and so sweet. You run your fingers up his chest, scratching your nails through his thick hair just as you had imagined all those times, swallowing the low rumble that your actions inspire. His hands follow the curve of your body until he can cup your ass and with surprising strength given the amount of time he has been awake shifts you until you are properly settled on top of him.

It's almost unthinking the way you begin to move together. You cup the back of his neck running your fingers over his nape and into his hair enjoying the way the silky strands feel between your fingers and the way he gasps into your mouth giving you the perfect opportunity to deepen this good morning kiss. His hands flex on your ass, grip tightening as you feel him hardening against your hip and you offer no resistance when he starts guiding your movements, the slow grind taking you both far beyond a good morning kiss. 

You could stay like this forever, part of you wants to but there is a fire starting to burn in the pit of your stomach turning your lazy morning appreciation into a more urgent simmering need. You prop yourself up, hands on his chest and you can’t help but laugh at how his whine of disappointment turns choked when you settle yourself more firmly against his morning erection. He catches on quickly though syncing the rolling of both your hips. His eyes flit back and forth between your face and your bare breasts hanging temptingly before him as you both move. 

With only a small groan of effort he lifts himself up on his elbows bringing him perfectly in line to nuzzle his face into your cleavage and when content follow the curve of your breast with his tongue capturing your nipple between his lips. He watches you with intense eyes as you arch into him chasing all the pleasure he so eagerly gives you. The blissful haze is interrupted by a loud knocking coming from his office. You jump, pulling away from him and he moans in annoyance, wrapping you in his arms and trying to pull you close again. 

‘Shhh,’ he whispers soothingly trying to pull your attention back to him. ‘Ignore it, cara mia. They will go away.’ He kisses up your chest, over your throat and chin, seeking your lips and almost succeeding. You glance at the clock on his bedside cabinet, surprised by how late it is as you accept his kisses. Already after 10, no wonder someone was trying to seek his attention. Any further objections you may have had are swallowed up by his mouth though, your eyes slipping closed as you succumb to him nibbling and sucking at your lips, enticing you to open up for him once again as you settle against him, this time the hard length of his cock laying perfectly against your core. Just as you have almost entirely forgotten the knocking begins again, louder and much more insistent. 

‘Ah cazzo,’ he says, collapsing back against the pillows petulantly before sliding out from under you muttering under his breath. ‘I will get rid of them.’ He finds his lounge pants and pulls them on before wrestling with his dressing gown. The tie gets caught in his sleeve and you watch with pity for a moment before rising and helping him untangle himself and try to be at least a little presentable. 

‘And I will make coffee for when you do.’ You pull him in for one last kiss, your fingers running through his hair tidying it somewhat before he goes to face the interruption. Looking around you realise there aren’t very many of your clothes in this room, so you steal his shirt disregarding the fact the hem barely skims your ass before wandering to the kitchen. 

Making coffee is second nature to you now so you let your mind wander to the later on. Perhaps he will ask you to spend the night tonight to pick up where you left off this morning. You cycle through some ideas for something special to make him tonight, just because. Something had changed last night and while you had shied away from thinking about the future before it felt safer now, more certain. The coffee starts to bubble up, filling the pot while you imagine days and weeks spent together, holidays and trips and excitement but also the day to day. Coming back to him after a day in the kitchen, falling asleep together, making his coffee. You add a splash of milk and a touch of sugar just as he likes before quietly making your way to his office in case he wasn’t done with his guest yet. 

Your bra you find in the dining room, hooked over a chair and your dress in the sitting room half hanging off a sofa. Putting the coffee on the side table you shuffle into your own clothes, pausing with a curse when you remember that your underwear was lost in his office the previous evening. Hopefully he had the sense to pick them up before letting his guest in. You send a short prayer to Satan as you fetch the coffee. 

As you get closer to his office the soft hum of voices becomes more distinct. The conversation carries to you through the slightly ajar door and you are surprised to hear the voice of Sister Imperator. In all this time she had never visited Papa as far as you were aware. Their conversation continues and you know you shouldn’t listen but you could hardly interrupt in the state you were currently in, it would have been more than obvious that you had stayed the night here and this wasn’t how you wanted your relationship revealed to the upper clergy. You were curious though of why she was here now so your curiosity wins out and you get as close to the door as you can get away with and listen.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

A watched pot never boils so they say and it certainly feels that way as you wait but catching it at just the right moment, turning off the heat as the spout begins to bubble over and let the pressure and steam do its work. There is nothing, nothing, nothing then before you know it half the reservoir is filled. Flip the lid closed as the last spurts are driven up from the chamber mainly to capture every last drop but also to avoid the splatter of hot coffee everywhere in the vicinity. Many take it black but he takes his with a splash of milk and a pinch of sugar, a short mix then it is ready to serve.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Even from outside you could sense the thick tension in the room. You could just about see them both from where you were peeking around the door frame, his back to you while Sister Imperator was facing you sat across his desk. He looked so rigid in his chair, clearly uncomfortable in her presence, far from his usual confident lounging. He looked smaller, his arms and his dressing gown wrapped tightly around himself as if trying to make himself less of a target, but her sharp expression was fixed on him.

‘It should be obvious to you Terzo,’ she states, leaving you with little context to their prior conversation. 

‘Papa,’ he interrupts but she barely acknowledges him aside from an arch of her brow.

‘Your time is over,’ she continues. ‘It is time for the Clergy to move on to bigger and better things. You have had your time to sulk but now it is time for you to step back and find a hobby like your brothers.’ 

Her condescension rankles you both, his shoulders hunching impossibly higher as you feel anger starting to swell in your chest. Despite the circumstances at the end of his reign he had been a well loved and successful Papa, building on the foundations his brothers had laid and bringing not only the ghost project but the church itself to new heights. There were more siblings, more money, more praise for our unholy father. It unsettled you seeing her talk to him like this.  

‘But who is taking over?’ He questions, his tone bemused. It was a valid question. It was his father that had addressed the children of the ministry at his final appearance but he could hardly walk unassisted let alone lead the Church or the ghost project. While Terzo had continued some of his Papal duties while you had worked for him it was no secret that the bulk of the work had been shared between his brothers. 

‘Well I should thank you for that Papa.’ While she concedes to using his title this time her tone is far from respectful. ‘Cardinal Copia he is…’ She pauses, seeming to pick her words carefully. ‘He will be taking over the ghost project,  as he has taken over the majority of the work you should have been doing these past months.’ Her face hardens as she continues. 

‘He has been forced to step up while you have been indisposed and getting waited on hand and foot.’ She points at him accusingly, any pleasant façade completely fallen away. ‘Taking resources away from the greater congregation to indulge yourself which hasn’t gone unnoticed.’ The unfairness of her accusations stings even you. If she had known how bad he had been, if she had seen him at the beginning. You take a quiet breath trying to calm yourself down. She composes herself and leans back in her chair affecting a more casual air that belies what she says next. 

‘The Cardinal will succeed and when he does he will become Papa.’ And with that she stands. ‘You have a week to vacate these rooms and find something more suitable for your new rank. Might I even suggest further afield than the grounds of the abbey.’ She doesn't even pause to watch him deflate at her words, any fight he had left leaving him in an instant. 

‘Oh and one more thing,’ she pauses her hand already on the door handle. ‘This personal chef nonsense ends today. With the success Copia will bring the ministry she will be needed more than ever and it is about time the whole world stops pandering to you. She is to report to the kitchens for lunch time prep. Which starts in about half an hour.’ She glances towards the ajar door at that last statement, somehow aware of your eaves dropping then without a second glance at Terzo she  leaves, closing the door with a quiet click as if she hasn't just turned both of your worlds upside down. 

You are frozen, torn between running straight to comfort him and giving him his privacy. Your mind is whirling with everything you had just heard, the way Sister Imperator spoke to him, the fact that Copia would be leading the ghost project, that you would no longer be working for him, that he would be leaving. Your thoughts grind to a halt. He would be leaving. Your stomach fills with lead. A week and he would be leaving. You try and steady your hands still holding the coffees you had so happily made a few minutes ago thinking this was just the beginning of your time together and in just that stretch of time everything had been turned on its head. 

Your frantic thoughts are interrupted by a bang and a smash from his office. You jump, losing your battle against spilling the coffee, hot liquid spilling over both of your hands.

‘Oh shit,’ you exclaim quickly, putting the cups down before you spill anymore. But as you turn the door to his office is yanked open and there he is stood in the door frame. 

‘What did you hear?’ His voice takes you by surprise, cold and hard in a way you hadn’t heard from him for months. 

‘Terzo, I…’ he shakes his head, cutting you off before you can continue. His grip on the door frame becoming white knuckled. 

‘How much did you hear?’ He seems brittle, as if he is about to snap at any moment, as if one wrong move will send you both plummeting into the icy waters of the reality of what just happened. 

‘I don’t know I just….’ You have hardly had time to process what you did hear and his cold demeanour unsettles you even further. He is so obviously hurting and yet all you can think about is him leaving you. ‘You have to leave?’

‘Get out.’ he says, his voice flat and emotionless. You think you misheard him at first.

‘What? Terzo …’ He turns away heading back into the office as you start to question him so you reach for him but he shakes you off with a jerk of his shoulder. 

‘You heard.’ That cold flat voice again as if someone other than the man you had fallen in love with was standing in front of you. ‘You are needed back in the kitchen.’ 

‘Please stop,’ you beg, your confusion starting to lift as you realise he is shutting you out on purpose, trying to isolate himself the way he had before. Though the knowledge does nothing to quell the tears welling up in your eyes. ‘We need to talk about this.’ 

‘Talk about what?’ Still nothing but his cold flat responses. ‘Things that are none of your concern?’ He won’t even look at you and your chest feels tight. 

‘Terzo,’ you say a plea clear in your voice. He still won’t look at you, standing by his desk fiddling with the papers and trinkets across the surface but you can see his shoulders begin to shake. ‘Please don’t do this.’

‘Leave.’ If your attention hadn’t been fixed on him, if you hadn't spent the past months doing everything you can to make him happy, if you didn't care for him the way you do you might have missed it, the way his voice breaks as he says it. ‘Ti prego.’ 

‘You can’t expect me to leave you like this.’ Surely he knows, surely you have shown him how much you care. ‘After everything we have, after everything that has happened.’ You step closer reaching for him once again but he flinches away. 

‘Everything we have been through?’ he scoffs, finally turning to face you. He pins you with his gaze no longer cold, but burning and far from the passion you had grown used to. His anger was winning out, at Sister Imperator, at the disrespect he had been shown, at the situation he is being forced into. And yet despite the care you have given him he is still using you as the scapegoat for his frustrations. 

‘My life, everything I have ever worked for is being torn to shreds because some bitch is on a power trip and you think a good fuck in an apron is going to fix it?’ He could have stabbed you and it might hurt less, but you wait, let him run out of steam. ‘You were a pleasant diversion, mia cuocoina, but I have something a little more pressing to deal with right now so run along back to the kitchen and leave me the fuck alone.’ 

His chest is heaving with deep breaths as he tries to maintain his casually cruel façade. Your tears are falling freely now despite the fact you know he doesn't mean it. He is so clearly hurting and lashing out at you but that doesn't make any of this ok. So you wait, despite the way your heart is breaking, for the apology you deserve and that you are sure will come. 

He watches you, uncertainty creeping in at the corners of his expression. He expected you to give up by now, to leave him to wallow and now he doesn't know what to do. You take a final step forward until you are within touching distance, hoping that you are finally through the worst but his expression shutters. 

‘GET OUT!’ He shouts, stepping back from you and gesturing towards the door. You try your damnedest not to flinch even more sure he is just cycling through every possible tactic to push you away but with this he has gone too far even for you.  

‘I know that is not what you really want but I deserve more than this.’ You say as calmly as you can muster, your voice shaky despite your efforts.

‘I can't feel my toes, cara mia! What if my fingers are next?’ He cries mournfully, wiggling his fingers under the blanket. You wait him out, holding his plate and coffee mug out patiently until he relents with a dramatic huff. He wriggles until his arms are free of the blanket and takes them from you, pouting all the while and muttering to himself as he takes a bite out of his toast. 

‘It is as if I woke up in the Arctic.’ He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘See if I spend one more winter in this frozen place.’ Another larger bit of toast. ‘I should be in the Bahamas or somewhere nice. Warm.’ You watch him fondly as he finishes off his breakfast, grumbling all the while. 

‘Is there anything else I can do for you this morning Terzo?’ He gives you a sidelong glance refusing to give up his frown just yet but there is a twinkle in his eye you know means his mood is already lifting. 

‘I fear there is but one thing that will save my fingers and toes.’ He almost keeps a straight face but the corners of his lips give him away lifting as he tries and fails not to be amused by his own idea. ‘You must join me here cara mia, share your body heat so your Papa doesn’t freeze to death.’ 

‘And that is the only way to save you?’ You have no plans to refuse him, there is nothing for you to do for a while anyway and it would take a stronger person to refuse an opportunity to snuggle with this ridiculous man. 

‘The only way! You would not let me freeze to death would you?’ He looks at you pleadingly as you take the plate and mug from him and set them on the side table.

‘No I would not, I would miss you too much.’ He lifts the blanket with a much more genuine smile, until you don’t move quite fast enough for his liking, a scowl overtaking his face as watches you step out of your shoes before he hurries you under the blankets before too much cold air can get it. And so you found yourself held as close as you could possibly get, under the guise of helping him keep warm. He was pressed against your back, chest to thigh, your neck pillowed on one of his arms which was now looped around you, his hand caressing your shoulder through the fabric of your jumper. His other arm laid against your thigh as he had wandered his fingers down the side seam of your skirt, before resting on the curve of your hip. 

As impatient as he may have been with you he clearly appreciated your forethought, wasting no time intertwining his feet with yours. Even though you had both unspokenly acknowledged his thorough exaggeration you are momentarily shocked by the chilly temperature of his toes even through his socks.Before long your shared body heat does the job creating a cosy and relaxed bubble where the two of you can while away the morning. You are content, and so is he for a time but whether it had been his plan all along or whether he just couldn’t help himself, his wandering, fidgeting hands become a distraction.

The hand that had been resting on your hip gives him away first slowly bringing the hem of your skirt up your thighs inch by inch until you can feel his warm fingers against bare skin. You let him continue, unable to conjure even one reason why you should stop him. The anticipation builds as you wait for him to make his next move. Fingers creeping teasingly slow across the top of your thigh while you feign interest in the day time telly that was playing out quietly across the room. If someone was to ask you to explain what was happening you wouldn’t have a clue but you do so enjoy these little games the two of you play together. 

He stops just shy of your underwear, tracing teasing circles against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The barest pressure of  the side of his finger skims you through your underwear as he strokes you and it takes all the will power you possess not to squirm and grind down for more. It feels like forever as he keeps pushing and pushing. Giving you nothing but the barely there back and forth of his fingers. Even though you can’t see it like this his smirk is palpable as your wetness starts to seep through the infuriating material that bars you from his touch. How could you be blamed for your patience finally snapping?

The few seconds since you spoke stretch like hours as he gapes at you, fingers still poised between your legs. You catch his eye over your shoulder trying to gauge his reaction but as you shift you feel the tell tale bulge against your ass. From your forwardness or his teasing you aren’t sure but his obvious arousal gives you the confidence you need to try to spur him back to action. 

Stuck in this awkward position there is only one thing you can think to try. Moving deliberately as you hold his gaze you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against his bulge. He sucks in a sharp breath, his hips twitching towards the friction and his grip tightening on your shoulder. 

‘Terzo,’ you say, not even trying to suppress the whine in your voice. ‘Stop teasing and fuck me.’ You grind your hips back against him again to punctuate your words and it is only the combination that seems to crash him back to reality. He takes advantage of how you have twisted to look at him, kissing you clumsily. He misses your lips entirely on the first try, his shock and eagerness overwhelming his usual self control. When he finally captures your lips he doesn’t relent, lapping at your lips determinedly until you open for him then shifting trying to untangle himself from your limbs and the blankets.

‘You are sure?’ He questions, showing an unexpected hesitance as he hovers over you, his hand still warm against your thigh and still not offering you more than a tease of pleasure. It’s not that you had been deliberately waiting. You knew from experience there was no right time and it’s not even something the two of you had discussed. It had been an unspoken arrangement to allow your relationship to progress and in this exact moment you knew you needed him now. With your voice now caught somewhere in your throat you can only nod frantically to reassure him before pulling him in for another intoxicating kiss. 

His fingers firm up against you finally dispensing with the teasing touches and instead exploring, checking if you were ready to take him. He finds the wet patch again easily, not even needing to find your entrance, you can't help but grind down against his hand confirming what he must already know, you need nothing but him inside you as soon as possible. 

Your patience wearing thin you find his waistband, thankful he had yet to change out of his lounge pants so you can impatiently push down and free his cock. It takes some manoeuvring, becoming slightly awkward in that way that first times tangled in blankets tended to be. There is  barely enough room for him to twist between your legs and it's too hot considering you were both still mostly dressed but you don’t want to stop. He attempts to slide your knickers down your hips but he is already between your legs and the thought of him moving away from you instead of closer, closer, closer, in order to remove them has you slap his hands away. 

With little effort you pull the gusset to the side, hooking your calf around the back of his thighs to pull him close enough to line up the blunt head of his cock with your entrance. His hips jerk forward the moment he can feel your wet heat but you hiss, the slick still not quite enough to soothe the initial stretch. He pulls back blinking at you owlishly. 

‘Did I hurt you?’ His worry overtakes him and he begins to pull away bracing his knees on the sofa cushion beneath you. You shake your head, tightening your legs around him, enjoying the soft give of his hips against your thighs.

‘It’s ok,’ you sound breathless but you don’t care, only able to focus on getting what you want. Inelegantly you spit into your hand, the only quick solution coming to your mind. Prepared for his reaction this time, you swipe over his cock anticipating how he thrusts into your palm and hoping the cursory improvised lube will be enough because you need him now. You barely have to line him up before he is taking over, pushing into you in one hurried thrust. Gasping into each others mouths you stare, still somewhat wide eyed and surprised that you are suddenly fucking. 

The stillness breaks you first but trapped as you are between the tangled blankets and his welcome weight on top of you you can hardly take control. You wiggle your hips to no avail so resort instead to baring down, squeezing him tight inside you his reaction almost instant snapping out of his lust induced daze only to give you a smirk. 

‘Quanto è impaziente la mia ragazza,’ he says, brushing his nose along yours until he can press a kiss to your cheek that might almost be considered chaste if his cock wasn’t buried to the hilt inside you. He trails kisses down your face to your jaw, nuzzling at the joint until you give in with a sigh, tipping your head back to offer your neck up to him. He sucks and nibbles at your skin as he finally, finally moves, the pull out agonisingly slow despite the relief that he was moving at last.    

It feels indescribably good as you move together, not frantic and fast as you might have imagined it, and you imagined it a lot. Not too slow either, just right. Good. He loses purchase once, twice before giving up on holding any space between you, resting his soft body against yours. It is your turn to wrap yourself around him craving to feel every inch possible pressed against you even as you curse the layers of clothes you hadn’t bothered to remove. 

Next time, you think with a thrill, certain as you are there will be a next time, you will make sure you can feel all of him. A shudder wracks through your body, mostly from the way he is grinding his hips, rubbing back and forth against your gspot in a way that has the beginnings of your climax curling in your belly. But also the thought of the future of feeling his soft skin pressed against yours, tickling hair and beads of sweat. Now you had a taste you weren’t sure you could wait.   

His lips find yours again as your bodies move together, kissing you deeply until you can hardly tell where you end and he begins. A shudder passes through you after an especially deep roll of his hips, your whole body tensing as your orgasm starts to build. He breaks the kiss with a grunt, resting his sweat-dampened forehead against yours. 

‘Cazzo!’ He groans. ‘Sto per venue.’ He seems as if he is speaking to himself, pleasure glazed eyes blinking at you slowly. His eyes regain focus locking onto yours and you feel that pleasurable shudder run through you again. 

‘I need to feel you cum on my cock mia cuocoina.’ His hands grip your hips holding you still as he starts to fuck you harder, his precise thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His upper body covers yours, his comforting weight and more deliberate attentions making your breath come shallow and fast until your head is spinning. You grip his shoulders tightly needing something to ground yourself as. WIth a growl he shakes off the blanket, kneeling back so he can fuck in to you even harder. You would miss his closeness if you didn’t feel so connected by his burning gaze and iron grip on your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. 

Even without the blankets the heat between you is stifling as you both hurtle towards your climax. You can’t even speak, barely lucid enough to keep breathing when his thrusts begin to stutter and lose rhythm. His thumb finds your clit rubbing barely in time with his thrusts but it's enough and you cum with a gasp, your hands gripping his waist like your life depends on it. 

‘Fuck, fuck, FUCK!’ He moans as he rides out the pulses of your climax. He throws his head back with a groan pushing as deep inside you as he can as his orgasm overtakes him, his thrusts shallowly matching the pulsing of his cock. He pants for breath above you, his cheeks pink from the exertion but a smile creeps over his face that you can’t help but match. 

‘Fuck,’ you sigh, still feeling light headed with pleasure. As you look at him you feel a rush of feelings you still don’t quite want to put a name to but you push aside those thoughts for now to focus on the moment. Using what little strength you can muster you open your arms and he eagerly accepts, his exhaustion already creeping up on him. 

‘Fuck,’ he murmurs into your chest as he settles in your arms. Your fingers wind your way into his damp hair, smoothing the strands from his forehead so you can drop a gentle kiss in its place. He sighs contentedly, his eyes drifting closed. The telly continues playing the unwatched mid morning drama but nothing could pull your attention from the man falling asleep in your arms.  

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The rolls themselves can be made ahead as well. The dough rolled out thin and precise circles then carefully wrapped around cylindrical mould. Your oil should be hot and ready, maintaining a steady temperature for the quick work that is ahead. It takes but a minute for them to cook perfectly crisp, golden brown and bubbling on the surface. While still warm remove them from the mould and place on paper towels allowing excess oil to wick away and when cooled you can carefully package them away. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It’s not even that the two of you have become insatiable now. You still cook him three square meals and all that entails and you still head to your own room at the end of each day. He still attends to his reduced duties in a timely manner. It was just now when he looked at you with darkened eyes and lascivious smirk it went further than the flirtatious innuendo it used to end with. Though the tension had been delicious you can’t be anything but thrilled with the turn of events.

This time your only warning was the sound of him entering the kitchen to find you leant over the table in the middle of the kitchen finishing some preparation. He says nothing, only squeezing your hips firmly before easing his hand up your spine encouraging you to lean forward. In anticipation you slide your chopping board out of the way until you are bent over the surface as he cups the back of your neck with another more gentle squeeze as if asking for your permission to continue. With the small amount of room he has given you to manoeuvre you turn your head to the side and you can see him at the corner of your vision. As you nod though your head knocks the chopping board and you suspect your food prep needs to be moved to a much safer place before he continues.

‘Papa, the food,’ you say, hoping he understands what you are trying to communicate, struggling to put together a more elaborate series of words in your current state. 

‘You stay exactly where you are.’ His commanding voice makes you shiver and you give thanks to Satan that he understood your meaning as he slowly walks around the table. One at a time he moves the chopping board and bowls off the table. Your field of vision doesn’t allow you to see exactly where and you dare not move, knowing without seeing that his eyes are locked on you checking for any signs of your disobedience. 

‘Are you happy now?’ He asks when what you can see of the table is clear. 

‘Yes Papa.’ He circles back around the table resuming his position, one large hand on your hip and the other gripping the back of your neck, pinning you in place. 

‘Now where were we?’ He presses his erection against your ass, groaning at the little friction he is allowing himself. 

‘Do you know,’ he starts, his conversational tone so at odds with the way he is touching you. ‘How many times I have imagined you like this?’ The hand at the back of your neck starts to move, caressing across your shoulders then down your back leaving goosebumps in its wake. Both hands settle on your ass cheeks, squeezing firmly until you gasp. He grinds his cock against you again, the hard ridge of his arousal catching you perfectly. You are already so wet when he pulls back your skirt is stuck to you and he lets out a long slow breath when he notices. He lifts the hem of your skirt up revealing you to his gaze.  

‘Puttana,’ he mutters, freezing in place for just when he realises that you hadn’t bothered with any underwear this morning. ‘Cazzo,’ the sight of you wet and ready for him to take must chip away at his self control, he grabs your wrist twisting it to the small of your back and directs you to hold up your skirt for him.   

‘All spread out over this table just for me.’ He has barely even touched you but your breath comes in pants as you listen to him opening his trousers, the pop of buttons, the click of clasps clasps and the hurried unzipping of his fly. You feel the heat of him before he even touches you but instead of fucking into you like you need he pushes the head of his cock between your thighs. His breath stutters at the sensation of your pillowy thighs squeezing his cock as he slowly thrusts. The sensation only makes you more desperate as he takes his pleasure from your body without giving you anything in return. 

‘If I had known how desperate for me you were before,’ he says, slowly, softly, making you wait even for his words when he finally, finally angles his next slow thrust upwards. The tip of his cock gradually pushing through your folds and nudging at your clit with the same slow precise rhythm of his carefully chosen words. 

‘That every time I had the urge I could have bent you over.’ His every action seems designed to drive you mad with want. He finds your entrance with ease, the pressure just enough to make you clench in anticipation but yet not enough to give you any satisfaction. ‘And fucked you.’ 

You aren’t quite used to it yet, the delicious stretch, the perfect angle of him. He must be watching himself fuck you, pulling out infuriatingly slow before thrusting back in, knocking th air from your lungs each time. His self control doesn’t last for long though, the tight wet heat of you pulling him in over and over again until he is pushing into you hard and fast. The heavy table creaks at the onslaught and you are sure to have bruises on your hips where he is pressing you into the edge but it feels too good for you to consider stopping for a second.

It’s not long before you sense him getting close, leaning over you for support, his soft stomach pressing your hand into your back. For a moment you find yourself again wishing you had taken the time to pull off each other's clothes so you could feel his bare skin against you, the soft scratch of his chest hair, but there would be time for that. Next time you promise yourself yet again, as you feel your orgasm washing over you. 

You stare through the table top, your head buzzing, somewhat detached from reality. His final thrusts jolt through your body as he joins you in bliss, his strength seeping out of him as he collapses  against your back. The world comes back into focus with him panting against the back of your neck, the welcome weight of him slightly less welcome this time now you are pressed against the kitchen table. 

‘Terzo, the table is quite hard,’ you inform him, attempting to push yourself into a more upright position. 

‘Oh! Mi dispiace,’ he says hurriedly lifting himself off of you. You grab his wrist before he can get too far though turning to face him. 

‘I’m going to think about that every time I am preparing food now,’ you tease him with a smile, drawing him in for a kiss. 

‘Mmmm but I was already.’ You giggle as he kisses you, languid and warm until his rumbling tummy makes you break apart with laughter. You both look down at his complaining stomach, then back up at each other, laughing even harder.

‘I think I better finish off this meal,’ you say, righting your dress. ‘Before we get any more complaining out of you,’ you joke, giving his tummy a gentle poke. He swats away your hand before flopping into one of the chairs just out the way, watching you get back to work with a dreamy expression. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The filling is as important as the dough being one of only two components and can be flavoured to your preference. Generous spoonfuls of ricotta and mascarpone are whisked together with sugar and candied fruit peel added to taste. The mixture is ready when it is light, airy and just sweet enough. Spoon into a piping bag and you are ready to assemble the final product.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘Terzo are you busy?’ You ask knocking on the door frame. He had mentioned craving something sweet earlier so you were hoping he would have the time to indulge both you and himself. You held the tray of cannoli behind your back, admiring him as you waited for him to finish with his work. He is once again wearing his glasses as he sits at his desk, reading over some documents. Though his brow is creased in mild frustration at whatever he is reading, his expression lifts as he acknowledges your interruption, a smile crossing his face as he drops the documents  on the desk and spins his chair to look at you properly. 

‘Not any more,’ he says, eyes raking you up and down over the rim of his glasses. ‘What can I do for you cara mia?’

‘I have a surprise for you,’ you reply coyly, slowly making your way towards him.   

‘A good surprise?’ He questions. You are almost insulted, when have you ever given him a bad surprise?

‘I would like to think so,’ you say, not willing to give away the surprise yet especially while he is questioning your motives.

‘Ok then, come and surprise me.’ He pats his lap beckoning you closer. You take a few steps closer then with a flourish present him the plate and his face lights up. 

‘Cannoli? For me?’ His face lights up in delight and you think that you want to make him happy like this everyday for the rest of your life but you push that aside for later.

‘You said you were craving something sweet,’ you say instead.

‘Ah mia cuocoina always making sure I am satisfied.’ He reaches for the plate but you wave his hands away a sudden idea coming to you on how you might satisfy him even further. Placing the plate on his desk just out of his reach you settle sideways across his lap leaning against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist holding you close and he presses a kiss to your cheek murmuring in thanks. 

‘Let me taste,’ he demands but this is one time where you have no intention of following his orders. You pick one off the top of the pile and hold it to his mouth forcing him to lean forwards to take a bite but just when the treat is within his reach you pull it away. 

‘No teasing cuocoina’ he says sternly.

‘You didn’t say please,’ you remind him sweetly.

‘Please. Now.’ he rolls his eyes at you as he says it, barely humouring you and yet expecting you to obey. You hold the treat towards him again but at the last second eat it yourself. He watches you in shock as you moan exaggeratedly at the taste, licking the escaped cream from your fingers and your lips.

‘Cara mia why would you tease me this way?’ He asks as if he isn’t the worst tease you have ever known. 

‘You didn’t say please,’ you repeat. He did say it technically, but he didn’t mean it and you were enjoying watching his frown lines deepen the more you wound him up.

‘I did,’ he says indignantly. 

‘You need to mean it,’ you say, reaching for another one and sucking the cream from inside first before popping the outer shell in your mouth.

‘Please mia cuocoina! Ti prego, per favore, please!’ He looks pleadingly between you and the plate as he begs and as much as you want to give in and let him taste you decide to push him a little bit further.

‘Show me how much you want it.’ He drops his pleading act in an instant the terrible man, his eyes darkening and a smirk pulling at his lips now he has figured out your game. 

‘If you insist.’ In a moment he is fully in control, his hand finding the back of your head to keep you in place as he shows you exactly how much he wants it. He kisses you fiercely, tongue delving between your lips searching out any left over flavour of the treat. He pauses to catch his breath and you take your chance, twisting in his lap and helping yourself to another. You lean back against his chest, tipping your head back against his shoulder and letting him watch you delicately lick the cream from inside before eating the pastry in two bites. 

‘You are an insufferable tease mia cuocoina,’ he growls it into your neck, nipping at what he knows is a weak spot for you as he watches you eat.

‘It takes one to know one.’ You are being childish, you know that but you are having fun. It’s not very often you get under his skin and you want to stretch it out for as long as possible. 

‘I thought this was my surprise.’ And even despite his grumbling you can feel him getting hard beneath you. 

‘I decided you need to earn it.’ You push even as you tip your head offering him more of your neck to torture you in return.

‘Oh.’ You’re in for it now you can tell by the sound of his voice but you couldn’t be happier. He slides his hands down your waist and over your thighs, spreading your legs and bracing you either side of his lap. ‘I see how it is.’ He unbuttons your habit slowly working from the hem up to your neckline peeling back the material. He sighs in satisfaction when he sees your underwear, delicate purple lace with sparkling gold embroidery.  

‘I like this,’ he comments as he slips his hands into the cups of your bra, teasing your nipples with controlled pinches and flicks of his fingers. 

‘Have another,’ he tells you, pinching your nipples sharply when you take a bite. This is his payback, you realise when he doesn’t relent, alternating between massaging your breasts and stroking your nipples, surprising you with hard pinches everytime he thinks you have got too comfortable. You need more, more of something but he offers you nothing, spreading his legs inside yours so you can’t even grind down or press your thighs together to get some relief. He pushes you until you are whining with every breath, every part of your body except your voice screaming please. 

‘Not nice is it mia cuocoina.’ He sounds so smug you almost want to scream except this is what you wanted wasn’t it? You should have known you could never beat him at his own game. 

‘Ok ok,’ you give in, reaching for another cannoli and holding it to his mouth and finally let him take a bite revelling in his moans as the flavour fills his mouth. 

‘So good,’ he groans, accepting you surrender as he finally reaches into your underwear circling your clit deftly working you until you are again writhing in his lap. Clearly having run out of patience himself he pushes you forward against his desk giving him just enough room to fumble with his trousers. He takes your hips encouraging you up just enough that he can find your entrance with his bared cock and as soon as he does he pulls you down until you are once again seated on his lap but this time full with more than just cannoli. 

Before either of you move you offer him another; he eats it messily, licking spilled filling from your fingers before bracing your hips and helping you ride him in his seat. You are both so worked up you find your rhythm easily bouncing and grinding in his lap the sweet taste of dessert on your tongues. His hands roam your body squeezing and caressing before he finds his way back into your underwear stroking you in time with your movements until your legs start to feel like jelly.

When you can no longer coordinate your movements he lifts you up bracing yourself against the arms of his chair so he can fuck up into you. His angle is perfect, hitting you over and over again in exactly the right spot that has sparks flying across your vision. Your arms start to shake but you focus every bit of strength you have left to staying exactly where you are, his legs are shaking too and you know he is just as close as you are. 

With one last thrust he pulls you back down into his lap, moaning as he cums inside you, losing himself in his pleasure. You can feel the pulses of it as he finishes not quite enough to tip you over the edge but intensely satisfying all the same. After a moment he comes back to himself finishing you off with his fingers and moaning along with you as you cum around his spent cock. 

In a daze you look down at yourself, almost fully dressed aside from your open habit and curse yourself once again for you rushed fucking. Next time, you swear to yourself, next time you will insist on doing things properly. He nuzzles against your neck now, soft kisses where before there were sharp nips. 

‘Have I earned my treats now?’ He asks sweetly, starting to button you back up without letting you move an inch away from him. He had more than earned his treat, as many as he wanted so you feed him another without any further resistance, pausing between each to kiss the taste of cream from his lips.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

At the last possible moment you want to fill them, as you want to serve them straight away. Placing the nozzle into the centre you fill each roll generously ending with a flourish in the shape of your favoured piping nozzle. Coat the end with your topping of choice then set on your serving dish.  Before long you will build a rhythm, fill, top and display. Fill, top and display until every last one is cream filled. Finally dust with a fine layer of sugar and they are ready to be devoured.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

You had been trying to leave this time, you really had. Admittedly it was getting harder and harder as time went on. Many weeks ago he had started walking you to the door each night, long before even your first proper date. Lingering conversations had become lingering touches which had all culminated in tonight. 

He had you pinned up against the door both your wrists grasped in one hand against the hard wood. The leg you weren’t wobbly balancing on was hooked around his hips keeping him close, your underwear already dangling from your ankle. At some point he had managed to undo his trousers, the loose belt buckle digging into your hips where he was pressed up against you and somehow his fingers were buried inside you twisting and stroking perfectly despite his arm being trapped between you. 

He was kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin of your neck, probably leaving terrible marks but you couldn’t care less. Lost in his muttering against your skin. How irresistible he finds you, that you are a temptation he would never resist, how he can’t bear to be separated from you without the scent of you on his fingers or the memory of being inside you. It’s pure filth but from him, in his melodic Italian drawl it sounded like the most romantic poetry you had ever heard. Overwhelmed with pleasure you clench down on his fingers always needing more, more, more of him.

‘I need you now,’ he groans, pulling away from your neck and withdrawing his fingers, leaving you empty and wanting and even more desperate. He fumbles between you trying to line himself up, his quiet speech turning from seductive to frustrated. It doesn’t quite work, aborted thrusts not hitting home. He tries again standing on his toes, trying another angle which fails again. There is no deliberate tease this time, not when you are both this heated, this desperate. One last time and when he doesn’t hit his mark you both feel the tension snap. 

He snarls, losing patience entirely he grips your hips firmly and moves. One minute your feet are firmly on the ground the next he has lifted you clean off the floor encouraging you to wrap your legs around him. Your now free hands grip his shoulders as he lines up again. With gravity now on your side you sink down on his cock  and for a blissful moment you enjoy the fullness of him inside you after the drawn out torturous wait that is until he tries to move. 

A concerning yelp escapes from him at his first thrust, his leg giving out beneath him. Somehow in the tumble you find your feet steading him where he is knelt before you both fall to the floor. All your frustration turns to worry in an instant as you rub his shoulders as soothingly as you can manage.

‘Terzo are you ok?’ His forehead rests against your stomach for a moment before he offers up his hand asking without words for some help to get to his feet.

‘I forget sometimes, I am no longer a young man,’ he says wryly as smooths his hair looking anywhere but at you. 

‘It's ok.’ you say reassuringly. I like you exactly as you are.’ You press a kiss to his nose and wrap your arm around his shoulders once again. His lips start to pull up at the sides and he finally looks at you. 

‘Si, you do,’ he says before shifting his weight to his leg with a wince, his expression becoming more serious. 

‘Do you think?’ He hesitates. ‘Maybe it would be more sensible to take this to a bed, si?’ It is your turn to hesitate wondering if he is really suggesting what you think he is. This has been another one of the two of your unwritten rules. You had never stayed the night with him always returning to your own rooms a reasonable time after serving his dinner. Yes that time had stretched longer and longer but it was a line neither of you had ever broached. Until tonight. 

‘Would you like to spend the night with me?’ He asks, seeming to sense you needed him to properly state his attentions and as he does your heart starts beating faster. The rush of your feelings is overwhelming all of a sudden. This was real, not that you had doubted him for a long time but this felt like a bigger step, a bigger declaration then any of the other things that had happened before and it was just for the two of you. 

‘I would love to spend the night with you.’ He kisses you softly, taking your hands in his. He leads you towards his room, pausing every few steps, unable to keep his lips from yours for long, as you manage to dodge around the armchairs and side tables in his sitting room. Realising you finally have your chance to feel all of him you eagerly reach for his collar unbuttoning his shirt in between kisses pushing it from his shoulders to puddle on the floor. Your knickers are long gone, abandoned back in his office but he doesn’t hesitate to pulls your dress over your head and your bra removed not long after his dexterous fingers make quick work of the clasp. 

The dining table proves a difficult obstacle but you take advantage, pushing him against the edge so you can pull his vest free of his already open trousers and finally get to run your hands over his bare chest. He moans as you scratch your fingers through his chest hair, his hands resting on your ass pulling you ever closer. After another moment he spins you away from the table walking you back and towards his room.

You find yourself pressed against a door once again, the cold wood contrasting his warm softness against your bare skin. He fumbles for the handle even less inclined to interrupt your kiss now he is so close to finally getting you where he wants you. The door opens and you are through. You had been in here a few times before but never like this never with the intention and invitation to stay.

He breaks away from you stepping towards the foot of the bed watching you as he shimmies out of his trousers so he can lie back on the bed gesturing you closer and you don’t need to be asked twice. You crawl over him revelling in feeling all of him. The soft hair of his chest against your nipples, the give of his soft stomach, the way your thighs spread to accommodate his hips and his beautiful face watching you with such fondness and desire. All it takes is a guiding hand and a shift of your hips and he is finally inside you again. 

This feels like more than sex, then lust as you move together, the closest you have ever been. You had been avoiding it for a long time putting a name to the way you feel about him but it’s undeniable. You love him. You love everything about him. The more you have got to know him, the real him, the harder you have fallen.  It wouldn’t matter if you were told to stop working for him tomorrow, you would want to make sure he was happy and looked after and being with him like this only makes that stronger.

‘I love you,’ you whisper against his lips not wanting to hold it in for a second longer. 

‘What?’ He blinks at you in confusion, like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

‘I love you Terzo.’ You say more firmly giving him no room for doubt. He stares at you for a moment longer. Then he kisses you so passionately he takes your breath away. WIth a surprising amount of grace he rolls you over, wrapping you securely in his arms beneath him. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t need to. He shows you exactly how much you mean to him with his attentive kisses and reverent touches. By making love to you in a way you had never experienced before until you were left with no doubt at all that he felt the same way as you. And later, as you fall asleep in his arms for the first time you can’t help but dream about the perfect future you are certain is laid out for the two of you. 

He kneels before you looking up at you with such clear admiration it makes your heart ache. He lifts your foot into his lap, undoing the buckle of your shoe before pulling it off and setting it to the side. He reaches for the other but finds you anticipating him, footed lifted and read to make his task easier. He tuts at you and looks at you pointedly until you set it in his hand.

'For all this time you have been letting me take take take from you mia cuocoina.' With the other shoe removed her pulls off your socks one at a time, resting your feet back in his lap. You try to reassure him but he lifts a finger to quiet you before you can even start. He rubs your feet, his strong fingers soothing aches that you hadn't even realised where there so you lean back on your elbows in surrender and let him do as he pleases.

'It is my turn to look after you now.' He works diligently caressing your ankles massaging your calves taking his time to seek out every spot of tension until you begin to melt under his hands. You give up any pretence of watching him or attempting to hurry him along and lay back, taking his words to heart and just letting him take care of you. As he reaches your thighs he edges closer, spreading your legs apart to make room of him between them. The hem of your dress is inched higher and higher as he works until it sits at your waist.

His hands leave you for the first time in what feels like an eternity to help you out of the garment, pulling it over your head with ease. Your underwear is next, he removes your bra with practiced ease and then slides off your underwear without you hardly having to move. He settles back between your legs his lips pressing soft to your knee, so soft it almost tickles but he has no intention to tease you, not today. He is being thorough though, taking his time to lavish attention on every part of you he can reach. His hands follow the path of his lips, encouraging you to open up to him and accept his adoration.