Page 65 of Fatal Sloth

“You’re always causing troub––” Peter's words are cut short by the threatening growl that escapes my lips.

I crack my neck from side to side and rise from my seat. My hand unclips the holster, my fingers curling around the cold metal. I brandish the weapon at Peter, my eyes ablaze with fury as I confront him head-on. "Get your fucking hands off my wife!" I say, removing the safety and cocking it back. That one little clicking sound seems to grab his attention, pretty damn quickly."If you have the balls to touch what's mine again, I'll rip your damn hands off and proudly display them as my trophy."

Peter's face goes pale, finally realizing how much he's fucked up. His grip loosens, allowing Mia to pull free from his grip and move back to my side.

“I-I didn't mean any disrespect to you, Don Morelli,” he stutters.

The touch of gentle fingers slides over my arm, a touch I recognize all too well. It's the touch that brings a rare moment of solace in this fucked up world. My gaze follows Mia's hand, tracing the path where Peter's hand once was, and I can see the faint red marks he left on her creamy skin.

Despite the tension in the air and my gun still pointed at Peter, with Dario, Daren, Yusuf, and now Enzo standing behind him, Mia manages to offer a small smile. But it doesn't reach her eyes, her way of telling me that she's okay, despite the shitty situation. Peter may be a prick, but I won't hurt Mia by killing him. Instead, I aim and shoot the plate right in front of him. The loud bang echoes through the room, and food splatters up the front of him. Then, in one step, I close the distance between us, my gun pointed right between his eyes.

"She’s the only reason you and that," I point my gun directly at the Bride of Chucky, then back at him, "get to live another day. But if you ever touch Mia again, I'll fucking kill you with my bare hands. Understand? She’s my wife and belongs to only me!"

My hold on Mia's hand tightens like a vice as we walk out of this shithole, leaving Peter and Karen in our wake. Mia's eyes betray her relief, her fingers practically clawing into mine, like I might let her hand go, as we step into the cold night air. The thought of Mia being raised under Peter's thumb makes my stomach churn with dread.

The dinner table showdown is just a small taste of the hell Mia suffered under Peter’s control. Growing up in my father's shadow, I know the harsh realities of our lifestyle. But to see such brutality within our own fucking family is a bitter pill to swallow.

It's a stark reminder that even the ones closest to us can be the motherfuckers to stab us the deepest. And I sure as hell won't tolerate it. Not now, not ever.

Dad’s smug grin speaks volumes as he and Aldo follow behind us. Damnit, I almost forgot he was in there, probably just enjoying the show. But I have this under control; I sure as hell don't need his help right now. He was the one who taught me always to protect what's yours, and tonight, I had to do just that for Mia––against her own father.

37

Mia

For a moment, I feared Sebastiano might abandon me, leaving me here. But his hand envelops mine, and when the cool wind brushes against my skin, it feels like a weight is lifted from my shoulders. I'm glad he didn't shoot my father. Despite his many wrongdoings, I don't think I could live with myself knowing I have someone's blood on my hands, especially my own father's.

Once he opens the car door, I hop in, and he closes it before taking his seat behind the wheel. With just the two of us in the car, I grab his jacket and pull him close, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. It's a bold move for me, especially with Sebastiano, but it feels like something has awakened in me. For the first time, I'm genuinely happy to be his wife.

As soon as we step through the front door of our home, Sebastiano scoops me up effortlessly, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips find mine in a hungry kiss, and I melt into him, completely lost in the moment. Despite the muffled sounds of greetings from Marie and possibly Nico, I keep my eyes closed, savoring the sensation of his lips on mine as he effortlessly carries me upstairs.

Once we're in the bedroom, he kicks the door shut, the sound echoing through the room. Before I can process it, the fabric of my dress is being torn off my body, replaced by the cool kiss of air against my heated skin. "I prefer undressing you," he whispers in my ear, his warm breath tingling down my neck. Then, his lips press against my neck, trailing kisses that ignite a fire within me.

The clasp of my bra gives way, then the sting on my hips tells me my underwear is being ripped off me. Fully exposed now, I fall back onto the bed, my heart racing with anticipation. Sebastiano looms over me. His presence is commanding and powerful like a predator sizing up its prey. At that moment, there's an ache deep within me that only he can soothe.

Sebastiano discards his jacket carelessly, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. With deliberate, slow movements, he begins unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. It's as if time itself slows down, leaving me in suspense, uncertain of what Sebastiano will do next. His shirt joins his jacket in a haphazard heap on the floor as he moves to his pants. His eyes are full of an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Show me what belongs to me." His voice is low and husky, sending heat to my cheeks.

Despite my embarrassment, I comply, parting my legs to reveal just how wet he makes me. His eyes darken with desire as he seizes my ankles and pulls me toward him, positioning me at the edge of the bed. With tantalizing slowness, he lowers himself to his knees, peppering kisses down the length of my thigh.

Sebastiano's kisses travel higher up my thighs until I feel his warm breath brush over my pussy. His tongue explores my core, igniting waves of pleasure that ripple through me. He spreads my legs fully open, a testament to years of dance training, allowing me to lay flat on the bed, flexible and at his mercy. Sebastiano’s tongue teases my clit, sending shivers of ecstasy through my body, with each stroke.

Suddenly, he slips a finger inside me, only to withdraw it moments later, leaving me craving more. "Please," I moan, my voice thick with need. "I need more," I plead, my desire for him consuming me.

"What do you need more of?" he asks, his voice making me shudder with excitement.

"You," I manage to gasp between moans. "I need more of you."

My fingers tangle in his chocolate locks as I shamelessly grind against his face, looking for more of the euphoria he's providing. "That's it, Piccolina," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Take what you need." I teeter on the brink of ecstasy when Sebastiano abruptly halts his movements. "You're coming on my cock tonight, not on my fingers or tongue," he says firmly, and before I can protest, he rises to his feet, grabbing my ankles and flipping me over in one swift motion.

The sudden change in position catches me off guard, and before I can fully understand what's happening, I find myself bent over the bed, my body primed and ready for him.

He positions his thick cock with my eager core, teasing me by stroking his cock up and down my wet center, eliciting needy moans from inside me before thrusting forcefully inside me, causing me to cry out in pleasure. He sets a relentless pace, his movements becoming faster and more intense with each thrust. The room fills with the sound of our bodies coming together, combined with my moans.

Pleasure ripples through my body, and a knot forms in my belly, warning me that the release I desperately need is coming. "I'm gonna come," I whimper, barely able to articulate the words before waves of ecstasy wash over me, leaving me trembling with intensity.

Sebastiano's movements become more urgent, matching the rhythm of my climax until he releases inside me, filling me with warmth. After withdrawing, he ensures none of his essence is wasted, gently pushing it back inside me with his fingers.

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