Page 50 of Married to the Mafia Devil

“You respected every decision I made, you stayed away when I asked you to. You aren’t too controlling. You just think you are.” I walk up to him, close enough to see the pain in his eyes. “You did the right thing because you know it’s the right thing. There’s a heart in there, capable of great things.”

The initial fury in his expression has melted away to something softer, vulnerable even. I close the gap, reaching out to wrap my arms around him. He hesitates for a moment before returning the embrace, his arms strong around me.

We pull back slightly, just enough to see each other's faces. I lean in and we kiss, a gentle, affirming connection that seals our newfound understanding and forgiveness. It's a kiss that speaks of possibilities, of hope, and of a love that, despite everything, refuses to be extinguished.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, seeing the sorrow in my eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Dad’s in hospital,” I reply, the words heavy on my tongue. “He got Petrovitch to confess that he ordered the hit on your parents.”

“I know. He sent me the recording. I wanted to thank him. Did they hurt him?”

“Tried to get him to give up the encryption key but he refused. Beat him real good but he’s going to make it.”

He sighs, his hands clasped tightly together. “I tried to talk him out of it. Your father was determined, said he was doing it with or without my help. I told him to stay away from Petrovitch. I guess he’s as stubborn as you are.”

I look at him and see the lines of strain around his eyes, the slight gray at his temples that I never noticed before. This man who has done so much, borne so much, all out of a tangled sense of duty and love.

“I want to make Petrovitch pay,” I say softly, my hands clenched in my lap. “For everything he’s done—to you, to my dad. To all of us.”

“I’m on my way to do that right now.”

“You are? But Alex said–“

“I might not come out of this alive.” He reaches out, his hand covering mine, unclenching my fists. “It’s dangerous,” he warns, his voice low. “And it could end very badly. It’s better if you go home, stay out of this.”

“What’s the plan?” I ask. “If you can’t trust anyone else, trust your wife. Maybe I can help.”

This is his moment of decision. Let go of total control and accept my help, be the man I know he can be. Or tell me to go fuck myself, shut down, keep heading down the path that ends with him alone. Or a corpse.

“Well?” I ask as he continues to stare at me, his brow furrowed. “What’s it going to be?”

TWENTY-TWO

Matteo

This could be the last time we ever see each other. She listened to what I had to say and then asked if we could talk more at my place. Only, since we got in, she hasn’t said a word, just taken my hand and brought me into my bedroom, our bedroom.

She looks at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she slowly begins to unbutton my shirt, her touch sending shivers down my spine. Her fingers trace patterns on my chest, igniting a fire within me that only she can quench. She moves with grace and confidence, taking control of the moment as if she owns it.

“This is going to go the way I want,” she says, speaking at last. “I’m in charge now.”

“You’re in charge,” I say as desire courses through every fiber of my being. With a seductive smile, she heeds my words and boldly takes charge.

She strips me of my remaining clothes, leaving me naked before her. I groan in pleasure as her lips trail down my chest, leaving a fiery path in their wake. And then, with a hunger that matches my own, she takes my cock in her mouth, her tongue working wonders that make me see stars.

Her rhythm is maddeningly slow, skillfully drawing me to the edge but never allowing me to tip over. I thrust in agony and ecstasy, lost in the whirlwind of sensation she unleashes upon me.

Each sweet torment pushes me closer and closer to the precipice until I am teetering on the edge of release. She looks up at me with a wicked gleam in her eyes, a silent promise of what is to come as she continues sucking with unwavering control, her hands gripping my shaft tightly, her tongue flicking over the tip.

Every time she pulls back, her eyes meet mine, the satisfaction of her power evident in her gaze. She knows exactly what she's doing to me, and she revels in it.

With each pass of her tongue, each teasing suck, she draws me further into her web, until I am nothing more than a quivering mass of longing and need.

I reach out, trying to touch her, to pull her closer, but she evades my grasp. She knows I am only moments away from shattering, and she delights in keeping me on the edge.

My breath hitches as I feel her tongue dance around the head of my cock, teasing me more than ever before. I know she's not going to let me come, but I don't want her to stop anyway. Her control over me is intoxicating, and I can't help but crave more. If this is what it means to give up control, I should have done this a long time ago.

As she sucks me harder and faster, my entire body tenses up. My heart is pounding, my breath shallow, and my mind is racing with a mix of desire and frustration. I want her to make me come so badly, but she won't let me get there until she’s ready.

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