Page 28 of The Vendetti Soldier

“That’s it, mio dolce. Tell me what you need.”

“Y-you. I need you. Mmm, that feels so good.” My eyes are rolling heavenward with each twist and squeeze of his hand. Then his weight leaves me as he shifts lower. His hand moves to my base as his warm, wet mouth takes my cock as far as he can. He sucks eagerly, slurping when needed, the loud sounds of my wet cock filling the silent room.

“Fuck,” I groan long and low. I should’ve known he’d be good at this; he’s good at every fucking thing, including being a moody asshole. “Fuck,” I repeat the word three times, making it my new chant with each bob of his head. One hand finds his hair, twining in the soft locks, while the other moves to my cock so I can feel each time his mouth slides all the way down. It’s my undoing. I can’t hold on because it’s too much. “I-I need to… can I?” I stammer out, and he continues to suck until tears are leaking because I can no longer hold myself back from coming no matter how hard I’m trying.

Cum explodes from my tip as my cock gorges itself on the intense sensations, soaking up every ounce of pleasure Santino’s mouth offers. Luciano has sucked my cock, but not when I was feeling so fucking emotional. No, Santino waited until I was unbelievably vulnerable so it’d feel like I was being blown by a fucking Greek god.

He swallows every drop of my cum, licking his lips after he’s drained me. “Now, I fuck you, mio dolce. Hold on tight, I’m going to take you hard after enjoying your taste and your cock so much.”

Chapter 14

When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. - unknown

Santino

“Vi, can we talk?”I ask Matteo’s wife as soon as I see her. I like to think we’ve been friends from the moment she came here. It may’ve not been under the most optimal circumstances inheropinion, but regardless, I was glad she came. We needed her more than we ever realized, and she has become such a massive part of our family that it’s hard to imagine a time now of her not being in it.

“Sì, fratello,” she greets me with a smile, calling me her brother even though she’s my sister-in-law. “What’s up?”

I steer her toward the sitting room and head for the nearest liquor cabinet. I need a drink to discuss this, even if I am the one asking to talk and not the other way around. “Want something?”

“No, I’ll wait until dinner to have my small glass of wine.” Right, she’s still breastfeeding. Matteo would ring my neck if he’d heard me slip up and forget while being trapped in my thoughts. I automatically reach for a bottled water in case she changes her mind and bring it with me.

“It’s about mia moglie.”

Her brow instantly wrinkles as she shifts toward me as I sit on the same couch as her. I need to be somewhat close because I don’t want my voice to carry. Sure, the Estate is massive, but it means little when you have so many people living under one roof together. It’s more like if we were to each have our own average-sized house and stick them all together to be one. Doesn’t seem so big anymore. “Is Mischa alright? I thought the marriage was going well so far.”

I nod, my lips tipped down at the corners as I attempt to delve into what I want to say and how to get it out. “It is.” I stop talking, taking a drink of my Tiramisu Martini. The chilled mixture of Amaretto, coffee liqueur, and cream has the perfect flavor to momentarily steal my attention away, as the flavor has my taste buds exploding with appreciation.

Violet’s expression softens, understanding dawning in her curious stare as she watches me take a few moments to gather my thoughts. She knows me well enough at this point,considering we’ve lived together for years now, to realize when something weighs heavily on my mind. However, she’s also used to giving me a bit of patience when I need it to find the right words. After a moment, I set down my half-empty glass and meet Vi’s intelligent, deep brown gaze.

“This isn’t something I expected to be thinking about now or ever, truthfully. It's about... my feelings for her,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper.

She reaches out and places a comforting hand on my shoulder, always quick to offer us support when she thinks one of us needs it. Violet has her own long list of responsibilities being the matriarch of the famiglia, married to an extremely demanding husband, mother of multiple children, as well as having a house full of staff to look after, yet she’s always around when I need her. “You like her.”

The words seem so simple, when in reality they could mean a range of things. I nod.

She continues, “More than you thought you would. You were expecting to fuck her to get her pregnant and then feel nothing.” She’s assuming, but she’s also right. “Then go back to living your typical soldato life and not worry about her unless you need to put another bambino in her again.”

I reach for my glass again, but she stops me when her grip tightens. With a sigh, I confess, “You’re exactly right, and I’m a dick for it. I swore to myself when it was my turn, I’d be a devoted husband. When Mischa and Rorik came for dinner, Iwas thrown because I thought Luciano would be married next. Don’t get me wrong, I was ready to step up if I needed to in his place… but then I found her sitting at the dining table.”

“You weren’t expecting someone like her?” she asks.

Shaking my head, I run my hand over my face, then drop it to my lap. “Not in the slightest. Matty, Cris, Sal, Dante—they’re all married to…”

“Innocent Italian women,” she supplies for me.

“Her hair is like silk, the Russian lilt in her voice drives me wild every time she speaks, and don’t get me started on her body. Her curves are everything.”

“You’re thinking with your penis, which is good where baby-making is concerned, but you’re not in here to tell me about how you fuck her. You asked me here to talk, which means it’s more. It’s me, Tino, tell me what’s in here and here.” She leans close enough to poke my chest, then my forehead. She’s still the feisty asshole she’s been since day one. Something I’ve always admired about her.

“Micha’s the first thing I think about when I wake up. I hold her all night, not letting her go. If she gets up to use the restroom and is gone for more than two minutes, my chest hurts, but only until she lays back beside me,” I admit quietly, feeling a restless sort of confusion. I’ve been with other women in the past; hell, I thought I was attached to one for a while, but I can adamantly confirm it was nowhere near what I’m experiencing with mywife. “I don't want to push her for more and ruin what we’re building, but I also don't want her to feel like she can’t ask me for more if it’s what she needs.”

“As a woman and a wife, I can assure you, she wants to know. We all see the obsession in her eyes when she stares at you, how she allows you to dominate her and is willing to share you with her brother if you wish. It takes a certain kind of strength and certainty to let go of so much control and put it into one person. You could crush her heart if you wanted to; you simply can’t see it because your own feelings are clouding everything.”

“It’s too soon,” I argue, thinking I’m being foolish.

She tilts her head, brow raised as she questions, “Is it, though? Think of everything you’ve faced together since she’s been here.”

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