Page 19 of His Mafia Lover

And I hold him close, breathing him in, memorizing the feel of his skin against mine. Because in a few short weeks, I'll have to watch him walk away, watch him surrender himself to a system that's far from perfect.

But this isn't the end for us. It's just a detour, a bumpy stretch of road on the path to our happily ever after.

We've fought too hard, come too far, to let anything tear us apart now. And when Santino comes home to me, to the family we've built...

It will be the most glorious beginning of all.

CHAPTER 9

SANTINO

The day I've been dreading and anticipating in equal measure dawns cold and gray, the wind off the lake carrying the bite of impending winter. It feels fitting, the bleak weather mirroring the heaviness in my chest, the sense of finality that sits like a stone in my gut.

Today is the day I turn myself in, the day I face the consequences of a lifetime of sin and violence. The day I leave behind the two brightest lights in my world, trusting in the love we've built to guide me through the dark times ahead.

Aaron finds me in the kitchen, staring into the depths of my coffee mug like it holds the secrets of the universe. He comes up behind me, slipping his arms around my waist and pressing a tender kiss to the nape of my neck.

"Hey," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. "You ready for this?"

I lean back into his solid strength, letting his presence soothe the ragged edges of my nerves. "No," I answer honestly, my voice rough with the emotions I'm trying to hold at bay. "I'll never be ready to leave you and Matteo, even if it's the right thing to do. The only thing."

He turns me gently in his arms, cupping my jaw and tipping my face up to meet his steady, loving gaze. "It's not forever, Santino. You're coming back to us, to the life we're going to build together. This is just a detour, a necessary step on the path to our future."

I search his eyes, marveling at the depth of faith and devotion I find there. "How do you do that?" I wonder aloud, brushing my thumb over the delicate skin beneath his eye. "How do you always know exactly what I need to hear, exactly how to make the darkness seem a little less consuming?"

He smiles at me, soft and sweet, and presses a lingering kiss to my palm. "Because I love you, Santino Ricci. Because I believe in you, in us, with everything I am. And because I know, bone-deep, that our story doesn't end here. It's only just beginning."

Emotion swells in my chest, hot and bright and almost painful in its intensity. I crush my mouth to his, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude and desperate, aching need into the slick slide of our lips. He opens for me beautifully, his tongue tangling with mine as he surrenders to the kiss, to the heat that sparks between us like a living flame.

I walk him backwards until he's pressed against the kitchen counter, my knee slotting between his thighs as I grind our hardening cocks together. He gasps into my mouth, his fingers tangling in my hair, tugging just hard enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain dancing down my spine.

"Santino," he breathes when I break away to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat. "Baby, we shouldn't...Matteo will be up soon, and the lawyers..."

"I need you," I rasp against the thundering pulse in his neck. "Need to be inside you, Aaron. One last time before I go, I need to feel you around me, need to memorize every inch of you. Please, tesoro. Let me have this, let me love you."

He shudders against me, his legs falling open in silent invitation. "Yes," he whispers, his eyes dark and glassy with desire. "Yes, Santino. Take what you need, take all of me. I'm yours, always."

I groan low in my throat, desire and possession and bone-deep adoration surging through my veins like wildfire. I strip him with eager, reverent hands, baring his body to my hungry gaze. He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, all lean muscle and smooth, golden skin, his cock flushed and heavy against the cut of his hip.

I take my time preparing him, working him open on slick, clever fingers until he's writhing against the counter, broken pleas falling from his kiss-swollen lips. When I finally sink into the tight, slick heat of him, it feels like coming home, like finding absolution in the cradle of his body.

I make love to him slow and deep, pouring every ounce of my devotion into each rolling thrust, each drag of my lips over sweat-damp skin. He clings to me, his short nails scoring my back, his heels digging into the flexing muscles of my ass as he urges me deeper, harder.

"Never letting you go," I breathe into the hair's breadth of space between our mouths. "Never stop fighting to come back to you, Aaron. You're my heart, my home. My everything."

"Santino," he sobs, arching beneath me as I change the angle of my thrusts, hitting that spot inside him that makes him see stars. "My love, my forever. I'll wait for you, I'll be here. Always, I swear it."

We come together in a tangle of limbs and panting breaths, our releases pulsing hot and slick between our pressed bodies. I bury my face in the sweat-damp curve of his neck, breathing him in, letting his scent and his warmth imprint themselves on my very soul.

If I have to carry a piece of him with me into the cold, lonely years ahead, let it be this. Let it be the memory of his body joined with mine, his heart beating in time with my own.

Later, after we've cleaned up and dressed in somber suits, it's time for the goodbye I've been dreading most. Matteo, my bright, beautiful boy, looking up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes as he clutches his stuffed giraffe to his chest.

I kneel down to his level, gathering him into my arms and burying my nose in his soft, sweet-smelling hair. "I have to go away for a while, cucciolo," I murmur, my throat aching with unshed tears. "But I need you to know that it's not because I don't love you, okay? I love you so much, Matteo. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He sniffles against my shoulder, his small hands fisting in the fabric of my jacket. "But why do you have to go, Uncle Santino? Is it because I was bad? I promise I'll be better, I'll be so good..."

"No, no, baby," I soothe, pulling back to cup his face in my hands, brushing away his tears with the pads of my thumbs. "You could never be bad, Matteo. You're perfect, exactly as you are. This...this is about me, about mistakes I made a long time ago. Mistakes I have to make right."

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