Page 88 of Nanny to the Mafia

“Shh… don’t worry, mia cara. I didn’t kill him… yet. Let's just say he will not come knocking on our door again… unless he doesn’t value his life anymore, hmmm.”

“You are a beast. I just kissed him to feel what it was like, okay?”

“Did you, now?” I said calmly, catching hold of her flailing and kicking arms. “What did you find out, huh? Do you like kissing him more? Was he a better fuck?” I taunted her, moving her negligee out of the way with my teeth, latching on to her nipple and pulling hard, punishing her for kissing another man.

“No,” she whimpered, the fight going out of her. “I felt nothing, okay?”

“You better hope so, mia cara.”

Sitting up, I jerked out of my briefs and bunched up her negligee with one fist.

“You are my wife,” I spat out. “Why do I have to fucking remind you all the time?” I pushed my dick inside her without any build-up but found her still wet and dripping for me. I withdrew again to drive deep.

“Who fucks you the best, mia cara?”

“You do,” she whimpered.

Grabbing her hair in my hands, I yanked her head closer to punish her with a kiss.

“Whose kisses do you like?” I rasped, my voice broken.

“Yours. Yours, okay.”

The urge to bury my hurt crawled all over me. Even as I pounded inside her, the image of Harris’s face popped up in between. I should have never kept him alive. Red filled my view.

“Please?” she whimpered.

I shook off the red haze around me to see her again. “Please what?”

“Please make it stop. Make me come. Please?”

“That’s fucking better.” I slammed harder in and out, punishing her with my rhythm, punishing me even more for ever meeting this woman who bewitched me and took my control. I wanted to shackle her to the bed and impregnate her. Spilling my seed inside her was the only release I could get of this pain in my chest that I would just lose her one day.

CHAPTER THIRTY

ANTONIO

“That’s a dumb idea. It’s a train wreck waiting to happen.”

I scowled. Angelo was a fucking nuisance. Today more than any other day. “I’m not asking for your opinion, and nothing’s going to wreck.”

“Well, I agree with him,” Marco interjected, grabbing onto the chair next to Angelo’s and trying to puzzle his big, long body into it.

“Piss off… I never asked for your opinion either,” I snapped.

“You’re getting it, anyway. Hiding things from your wife is a bad idea on so many counts, and you should know this given your hmm… past mistakes.”

I was glad my interior designer chose chairs with arms for my office. There was a certain pleasure to take in watching Marco’s discomfort, trying to fit his ass into one.

“Right. How long did you have to butter her up the last time?” Angelo mocked me, false innocence sprayed all over his face.

Too long. But I wasn’t going to budge. I wasn’t ready yet. Besides, everything was still so fucking raw. Just like it always was in our marriage. We were either fucking like rabbits or on other sides of an imaginary ocean fighting a cold war. However, this time, it was one of my choosing. I needed the distance to think and come up with an action plan before I put a bullet through someone’s head. I hadn’t even recovered from Harris before I received this blow. My marriage held more tension than the fucking cables on a suspension bridge.

I stalked over to the window and looked down at the ongoing traffic below me. Away from the two idiots behind me forming a team against me. They were nothing but my wife’s pawns.

Fuck! I wanted to go back to a few nights ago. Before Harris. Before all of this. Even though I got monstrous pleasure from punching the life out of the swine. I lifted my cracked knuckles, fist clenching and unclenching.

So worth it.

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