Page 177 of A Beautiful Crime

The macabre sight of his head half blown off doesn’t faze me. Nor does it Carina. Instead she only turns her heel and raises a cool brow at me.

“He was mine to kill, Constantine.” She pouts. It shouldn’t be arousing yet it is.

“He threatened you. As much as I would’ve loved what you had in store for him I couldn’t allow him to live for a second longer.”

Warmth enters those enchanting emeralds. Her expression softens. Only in our world is killing a man an act of love. Diamonds are nothing compared to a threat's head.

“Do you believe they’ll come for us?” She asks and I raise a brow for her to elaborate. “The Irish Mob. Do you believe they’ll want revenge for killing their prodigal son?”

“It’s a bridge we will cross when we get there.”

Not being able to withstand the distance between us I pull her to me. She succumbs to my touch. Melding herself to me as if we are one. I brush the apple of her cheek with my knuckle. Her pouty lips part as her eyes close.

“I’m proud of you, amore.” I praise her and she melts further. “You were made for this life.”

“Made for this life or made for you?” She asks in a husky tone. She then looks up at me through her lashes. The sight is enough to tempt a saint.

I frame her face in my hands as I skim my nose along hers. The scent of cherries envelopes me. I breathe her in. Her breath hitches.

My lips move against hers as I reply, “Both.”

In one swift movement her lips close in on mine as her hand grabs the back of my neck, her nails sinking in. Her touch is possessive. Claiming ownership. She leads the kiss. Dominating me in a way that leaves me utterly breathless and wanting. There’s a craving. A deep hunger for her to dominate me completely. It’s a fantasy one day we will play out.

Reluctantly, I pry her lips from mine before we lose ourselves to our urges. She licks her lips. Tasting the remnants of me and savoring it.

“When this war is over you won’t be leaving our bed for a week,” I promise her.

“Only a week?”

A growl of pain and lust tears from the back of my throat. It’s sheer agony to not finish what she had started. As much as I am trying to hold onto a modicum of modesty I am only a man.

I collar her throat. Her pulse races beneath the pad of my finger. “Or would you rather be fucked here? Would this please you, my beautiful wife?”

“Have you grown fond of having an audience?”

From the corner of my eye I spot the living who are still here. Rico could count as the dead. It wouldn’t affect him. But Gino and Tao. They would have a reaction. And as much as I loved submitting to her before I don’t think I can allow for there to be an audience again. I shared the view and sounds of my wife in passion once. It’s not going to happen twice.

Reading my facial expression her fingers curl in the ends of my hair. She raises herself on the tips of her toes, her lips ghosting over my own. “Don’t worry, husband. I’m for your eyes only.” She then nips my bottom lip between her teeth. Giving asmall tug before she releases me. “That is if you remain being a good boy.”

I swipe the dribble of blood with my thumb. I do love it when she leaves her mark. I place my thumb against her pouty mouth. The red of my blood is a bright contrast against her cherry coated lips. “I thought you enjoyed me being a devil?”

“Very much so. As long as we’re partners. On every level.”

“Always.”

“Then, my devil, get rid of our men so you can fuck your wife.”

CHAPTER 41

Carina

Ihaven’t allowed myself to grieve. I fear if I do I’ll slip into a vat of despair that not even Constantine will be able to pull me from.

My fury is the only thing driving me. The sweet promise of exacting vengeance is what keeps me motivated.

Because when I close my eyes . . . when I close my eyes I see his bloodied face.

I fist my hand against the desk in Constantine’s office. An office he says is mine just as much as it is his. Yet still, with the lingering scents of cigar and Constantine’s signature cinnamon and musk lingering in the air I only think of this as his.

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