Page 57 of Hateful Vows
“Put me in your mouth again,sposa mia. Show me how good you are at sucking my dick.”
Dante guides the head inside my waiting mouth and I play with the tip, licking the drops of pre-cum and sucking gently before taking more of him. I don’t let go of Aleksei’s cock and he hisses when I start to jerk my hand faster.
“Such a perfect whore,sposa mia.” The degradation is adoration on his tongue and I double my efforts to make him come. I dart my eyes to Aleksei’s whose parted lips betray the awe and lust that have taken residence on his face instead of his usual blank expression. There’s nowhere to hide when we’re raw and stripped bare like this.
Ever so slowly, he lets his head fall closer to my lips, and Dante’s cock. Then he joins me.
“Oh fuck.”
Dante might believe he’s in control but he’s as lost to pleasure as we are, grunting and swearing as we kiss sloppily. Each other and his hard shaft. It’s messy and vicious and everything we’ve always been.
“Get back, Aleksei. I’m gonna come.”
But my Lyosha has never been one to back down from a challenge. He takes my throat into his large hand and swallows Dante deep while moaning as I continue to jerk him off. Iwatch in awe as my husband loses control and comes inside the mouth of the man I’ve always wanted. Aleksei’s takes him deep, swallowing and not letting a drop glide out of his perfect mouth. He lets go of Dante with a plop then drops his head back and comes all over my hand and his chest. His cum juts out of him in hot spurts , and I bite my lip. Seeing both of them come is a privilege and a vision that’s burnt into my retina.
I’m a little dazed when Aleksei stops my motion with a soft hand on my wrist. Softer than what he’s ever shown me.
Dante moves in my periphery but we don’t stop looking at each other, breathing hard and sharing something we never thought we could have. It’s hard to deny now that Aleksei might have wanted me as much as I have wanted him. And what am I supposed to do with that?
A warm washcloth is pressed to my body, my hands, and in between my legs. Dante helps me up then into my clothes again. Aleksei’s already up and refuses the help my husband wants to give. The flex in Dante’s jaw and the dip in his brows tells me he doesn’t like to leave him to fend for himself, but he says nothing.
“I’m… I’ll…” Aleksei starts, then he turns around and disappears into the shadows.
I call after him but Dante stops me.
“Leave him,cuore mio. He needs to process what happened.”
“He’s fleeing.”
“Maybe. But can you blame him after years of denying himself?”
“Have I not done the same?” I bark.
“You’re stronger than him,” he says as he frames my face with both hands and kisses my brow. “Stronger than both of us. Let’s get you to bed. He’ll come around. I promise.”
TWENTY-FOUR
DANTE
Afew days later, Aleksei has not yet come around and Irina’s lips have turned down deeper than when I first married her. It doesn’t matter how many times I make her come in our marital bed—I can’t get enough of having her there—she’s back to moping once she’s cleaned up and dressed.
But I can’t attend to her moping today. My mother’s turning sixty-four and, as I do every year, I’ve organised a small, private lunch at the back of her beloved garden. I won’t lie and say I don’t care about my wife’s turmoil, but my mother is my priority.
This year, the guest list is extended to include Irina, Lucie and Aleksei, making it a little brighter than the four-people affair we had last year, with only my father, Tino and I in attendance.
The early summer sun shines through a canopy of trees, granting us light without the sweltering heat. A nice breeze weaves through the branches. We can almost believe we are back in Italy, in my mother’s ancestral home. Despite being a mafia wife for decades, always dressed like a queen and perfect in appearance, Mariella Ventura likes to eat on a half-broken white plastic set of table and chairs, the table cloth also made of plastic and decorated with lemons, inherited from her Italian great-aunt.
Irina’s almost smiling as she and my mother set up the table while Tino and I grill meat and ripe vegetables. I can’t stop looking at them, almost conspiratorial, the black summer dress on my wife’s body moulding her curves perfectly and clashing with my mother’s bright yellow maxi-dress. It was my father’s favourite. Something clenches in my chest, the feeling of contentment spreading through me. My life might be threatened, but for half a day, everything is perfect.
“We brought wine,” Lucie exclaims, blonde ponytail swishing side to side, and she sets three bottles of rosé on the table before embracing my mother, then Irina, and finally getting to Tino and I. “I don’t know what you did to my husband,cugino, but I think he beat his own brooding record,” she whispers in my ears before winking.
“I heard that,” Aleksei says with a frown.
He stays on the other side of the table, well away from both Irina and I. She might be used to not getting what she wants but I’m used to taking and not asking for permission. I stride toward him and don’t let him dodge me. My hand snaps around his throat and I bring his lips to mine, tangling my tongue with his. I swallow his grunt of surprise, nerve endings firing when he melts under my kiss.
“We’ve missed you, pretty boy.”
“Oh, Dante, your lover is here, that’s fantastic,” my mother says before planting kisses on Aleksei’s cheeks. He blushes and even Irina snorts. “Come, come. You will play piano for me later, won’t you, dear?”
