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She closed her eyes as his powerful thighs pushed her legs open wider. His erection was long and heavy and she felt it brush against her, and then Vittorio was entering her, stretching her to accommodate him.
She loved this moment when they became one, loved the feeling of possession and connection. So much of her life she felt alone, but when they were together like this, she felt whole and peaceful.
He slowly began to move in her and her hands stroked the length of his back, his skin warm and satin smooth beneath her palms. His body was hard and lean, beautifully muscled and she relished the width of his back, the smallness of his waist, the leanness of his hips and the small strong muscles in his butt.
She ran her hands over his butt, feeling the muscles tighten with each thrust of his powerful hips even as she pressed her mouth to his chest, his neck and his jaw. He smelled so good. He felt even better. I love you, she thought, as his hard strong body pushed her to the pinnacle of pleasure. I will love you forever.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THEY’D made love again during the night and Jillian woke early the next morning still wrapped in Vittorio’s arms.
It was the most amazing feeling in the world to wake in his arms. The most amazing thing to feel so safe. So loved. Because in his arms, against his warm chest, she felt loved. She felt perfect.
This was perfect. He was perfect. They could make this work, they could.
Turning in Vitt’s arms, she pressed her cheek to his firm chest, her thighs brushing his. Closing her eyes she listened to the steady beat of his heart. She loved listening to his heart. It made everything simple and real. He was a man. She was a woman. And they fit together.
“What are you thinking about, cara?” Vitt’s deep voice asked, rumbling through her.
“You. Me. Us. Everything.”
“All without coffee?” he teased, lifting a hand to stroke her hair.
“Mmm.” She smiled, snuggled closer, sliding one of her bare legs between his. “I loved last night. Thank you.”
“My family was delighted to meet you too.”
She giggled against him. “You know that’s not what I mean. I was referring to us. Making love. It felt really good. It felt like it used to.”
Vittorio continued to slowly, lazily stroke her hair, his hand running from the top of her head all the way down to her back. “It was good.”
She felt like a cat beneath his caress and she arched a little with the pleasure. “I did like meeting your family though. And I adored your grandmother, as well as your father. You look so much like your father. Do you hear that often?”
“I do,” Vitt agreed.
She pictured his father and the wheelchair with the ventilator tucked beneath. “Where was he shot?”
“He took a bullet in the back. Well, five actually, but the one that severed his spinal column was the one that nearly killed him.” He paused. “Thank God it didn’t. But he was in and out of hospitals for the next two years. Sometimes he still gets very sick.”
She struggled to process what he’d told her. “But who actually shot him?”
“A member of the cosca,” he said, using the Italian word for a Mafia clan or association. “As I told you last night, he wanted out. I was seventeen, the age many men join the brotherhood, but he made it clear that I wouldn’t, nor would any of my children.”
“I didn’t think you could just walk away.”
“You can’t.”
She heard the pain in his voice and moved closer. “What happened?”
He tensed. “My father announced he’d no longer be part of any criminal activity. He made it clear he would no longer extort money or provide kickbacks.” Vittorio paused, stared up at the ceiling, deep lines etched next to his mouth. “We were all at dinner one night in Catania. My father and mother, my grandparents, my uncles, their wives, a few cousins and me. They called all the men out of the restaurant. My father knew what would happen. After all, he’d been a member for years, just as my grandfather had been. He told everyone to stay put, that he alone would go out. My grandfather and uncle refused to let him go alone.
“They shot them all,” Vitt said bluntly. “My father threw himself over Giovanni, his younger brother, to shield him but it didn’t matter. One of the bullets that struck my father, passed through him and killed Giovanni instantly. My father alone survived. It’s a miracle he did.”
“And then your family was finally free?” she asked, her voice husky with emotion.
“There was a huge public outcry. Everyone knew us in Catania. Everyone knew what had been done. People were livid. Even members of the association were uncomfortable with what happened. I think the taking of two lives, and the maiming of my father, satisfied the clan’s need to make a statement. Enough blood had been shed. We were left alone.”
She pushed up on her elbow to look down on Vittorio.
