Page 12 of Carlo
The fucking asshole got hell, and I got heaven. The same woman delivered both. I slide her across my chest and groan when she hooks her knee around my erection. She smiles up at me, her eyes still hazy with sleep. “It’s too early,” she complains. “You’re supposed to be off duty.”
“I am. This is for you.” I roll her over and settle between her thighs. She laughs and pushes me away. But I’m stronger, and I have her hands pinned above her head. Shit. I forgot. No holdingher down. No cuffing her hands. I release them like hot skillets. All teasing is wiped from our frozen faces. I’m working up an apology when she cups my face.
The only time her eyes are this soft is when she looks at Caterina. The light shining from them spellbinds me. Her whisper is a delicate kiss along my skin, but the words hit like boulders. “It’s okay.” My wet eyes feel heavy, but I refuse to blink. Refuse to release any emotion. Even when she adds. “We don’t need safe words… or safe spots. We are each other’s safety.”
I seek shelter in my pillow. Burying my face against hers and take deep breaths. Of all the gifts I’ve received, tributes from other families to curry our favor… this one. This fells me. I need two more breaths before I can say, “Thank you.”
I jerk my head up when a laugh quakes her chest. She nods to the bedside table. “But you need to answer your phone.”
My lips trace her jaw in nibbling kisses. “I don’t need to do anything except eat your pussy, and fuck you senseless.”
“Oh, really?” she challenges.
My lips glide down the now familiar trail from the chord of her neck to her collarbone. “Yes, really.”
“What if it’s urgent?” she protests. But her legs are vines around mine, holding me close.
“Fuck them,” I growl. “This is urgent.” I rub my cock between her thighs. Pulling her breast into my mouth as my lips and tongue work her. Her groans tell me she has no more teasing remarks. Instead, everything is silenced while I work her body.
My hand slides down her side and between her legs. Her pussy is soaked and ready for me. I slip my fingers inside and pump until she’s arching against the bed. Begging for my cock. “Please, Carlo.”
“My name. Say it,” I demand.
“Carlo Falcone.” She whimpers.
“Again.”
“Carlo Falcone.”
I push inside her in one thrust. Her head arches back. Her hair falls in a dark cloud around us. She’s so damn wet, and I’m so damn hard that we both groan in relief. I move. Short thrusts that make her moan. I keep it up until I’m afraid I’ll cum too soon. Then I slam into her. Her body bucks beneath me. I lift her hips higher so I can drive deeper. She screams and claws at my back. Begging me for more. More. More. I give it to her. Harder and harder. Her walls clamp down on me like a fist, and we both scream when I explode.
I fall against her. My cock still inside her. I can’t move. Don’t want to. She’s my wife. I need her like this. Always.
Valeria’s fingers thread through my hair. She tugs gently, and I lift my head. Her face is flushed, her lips swollen. She’s never looked more beautiful. “Get your phone. If they’re calling you today, it’s probably important.”
I kiss her once more before rolling off her and reaching for the phone. “It better be,” I answer, my voice gruff from the workout. She’s worried. I’m not. I know that whatever it is, my family and I will handle it. She’ll never have to worry again.
Not about the Verrazanos or anyone else. Not about me. I’m her husband, and I’ll protect her from anything that comes our way. As I promised her that first night. “You’re mine.”
She smiles and snuggles closer. “Yes, I am. And you’re mine.”
“Always, baby. Always.”
* * *
I made them wait until my honeymoon was over. I’ve dedicated my life to this family for nearly two decades—they owed me one fucking week. Seated in Bruno’s office, we gather around his chair as if it’s a throne. Our suite in the Sindicate Towersoverlooks Lake Michigan. From this vantage point, we can follow the shoreline from the Illinois dip to the far east coast of Indiana. At certain times of the day, the light rays hit the blue-gray waters, and the waves crest and break like diamonds laid at our feet.
We’ve had one month of silence—of peace. No deadly trips to the vault that holds secrets and bodies below us. No murderous trips overseas to protect our territory and exact vengeance and justice. In a way, it’s been a honeymoon for all of us. Bruno’s stone face tells me the honeymoon is over.
Everyone settles in for the meeting with their drink. I ignore the smirks as they look at my ice water. Valeria hates the smell of alcohol on my breath. It triggers her, and although I can root her in the present with a bite of pain and a lick of pleasure. I’d much rather dole those out when we can both enjoy them freely.
Bruno starts the meeting. “We cannot ignore the insult from the Verrazanos.” I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. “I know what you had to promise to keep the peace in your home. So we will not include you in the plans. I am informing you as a formality only. As you know—”
“Weakness is death.” I finish the words my father ingrained in us all our lives.
He nods. “Exactly. They dared to touch the hair of a Falcone child. One we claimed and swore to protect. If we let this go unchallenged, none of our children will ever be safe.” He focuses on Matteo. “Speaking of which…”
“Fuck you, Bruno.” Matteo glares. “When my wife and I conceive is not your fucking business.”
