Page 38 of Shaw

I always reply with the same answer. “We both did.”

He smiles against my hair. “Good girl.” And I melt against him.

He turns and opens multiple cupboards, looking for the same tableware we use every evening. I bite my bottom lip to stifle a laugh at his inability to grasp where everything is by now.

Shaw pops his head over the top of the cupboard door. “Keep giggling and I’ll be spanking that ass.” He grins back at me, making my heart yearn for every part of him, including his spanking.

I dish the rest of our meal and set it onto the table, then wait for Shaw to cut into the lasagna before I start on mine.

“I have a surprise for you tomorrow.” Shaw stares at me with a smile on his handsome face and hope in his eyes, but I freeze.

My throat goes dry. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a surprise before. Not the good kind anyway.” My eyes dart away when I consider all the surprises I have received. I inwardly shudder thinking about the bloodshed and violence brought to our doorstep in every form of a surprise. I close my eyes at the pain of losing my parents, my sister, and a multitude of extended family members on my brother’s quest for vengeance.

A soft hand grazes my cheek, and my eyes flare open to clash with Shaw’s concerned ones; he’s moved from his chair and sits kneeling on the floor before me. “What’s the matter, baby?” He sits back on his heels and watches me, waiting for my response.

My throat clogs. “I don’t like surprises,” I rush out.

Shaw’s face softens and he nods in understanding—when in reality, I doubt he can understand.

“Okay. No surprises.” His lips tighten into an appeasing smile. “Shall I tell you and bump?” He places his palm on my stomach, making my muscles relax at his touch.

I nod. “Please.”

“Good girl.” He places a kiss on my forehead.

“Well, you’re going to come to my office tomorrow afternoon so I can show you around.” Excitement hums through me at the thought of Shaw letting me into his life beyond our arrangement. His smile widens, and I liken it to childlike, making me smile just as happily back at him. “Then we’re taking this little one for one of those 3D scans. You know, where we can see bump’s face. I did some research, and it looks incredible.” Emotion wells inside me, threatening to spill over, something not okay to do in the Mafia world.

Tears well in my eyes at his thoughtfulness, something he’s looked into not just for bump but for me too. His hand moves from my stomach, and I instantly feel the loss, only for him to replace it with gentle fingers grazing over a lone tear falling down my cheek.

“Are these good tears?”

I choke on a laugh. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He smirks back at me, and wetness pools between my legs. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His head dips down to my stomach and presses a soft kiss to my bump. I suck in a sharp breath as my fingers tangle in his hair.

A thought hits me. “Did you ask Luca if it was okay for me to go?”

Shaw’s head reels back, and stunned, he stares at me. Then his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

I elaborate. “I have to get permission to go somewhere different, Shaw. The guards need to be aware of any changes and make sure the premises are secure.”

His jaw tightens and the veins on his forehead protrude, anger taking over his features.

“You’re safe with me,” he snaps back and stands with his hands on his hips, his chest heaving. “You’re my fucking wife!” His loud voice makes me jolt, but at the same time, my heart races with pleasure at his possessiveness.

“If I want to take my wife out, I’ll fucking do it.” He picks a glass up from the countertop and launches it at the wall. The shattering launches me to my feet, and I don’t think twice before I have his face in the palms of my hands.

“Fuck. He even gets to decide when you leave the house. This is so fucked up,” he seethes, pacing the kitchen like an animal prowling. “He doesn’t fucking own you. You’remygoddamn wife.” He stabs his finger to his chest.

“I’m yours,” I reassure him.

His gaze locks with mine, and heat boils between us. “Mine,” he mutters with a deep growl that heats my body with need.

He stalks toward me then. His hand shoots out and he wraps it around the back of my hair, tugging my head hard enough that I wince from the pain.

His other hand fumbles with his belt while I help him push down his boxers to release his wet cock. I wrap my hand around him and pump him, and he hisses through his teeth, allowing me to fist his cock. “So fucking good.” His chest rises, but this time, it’s in need instead of anger, and the thought I can turn his mood around so quickly fills me with pride. “Keep pumping, baby. Pump harder.” He moans through open lips. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You belong to me, Emi. You both do. You’re fucking mine.” He bends down and takes my mouth in his, nipping enough at my lip to cause a sting of pain before he sucks it into his mouth. His hips move against me, making my pussy throb with need.

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