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I quietly creep into the room and see Cam, curled into the fetal position beneath the covers. Stepping round the bed, I glance down at my son, sleeping in his crib. Sucking away on his pacifier. Cam didn’t want to give him one, but when his thumb kept making its way into his mouth, she said “It’s a lot easier to get rid of a pacifier than his thumbs”.
I move Cam’s hair out of her face. She’s so beautiful.
She looks so peaceful.
I slip out of my clothes and climb into bed with her.
As soon as I dip onto the bed, I pull her back to my chest. In sleep, she has no recollection that she doesn’t want me touching her. She turns into me and brings her hands to my chest, snuggling her head into my throat. I place kisses to her hair and then lift her chin to kiss her eyelids gently, then each cheek, then her perfectly plump lips. She surprises me by moaning and opening her mouth for me.
Fuck knows if she’s awake, but I’ll take what she’ll give me. This is not how I thought the shittiest day ever would end.
But I need to be close to her right now.
“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry for bringing this shit into our lives,” I whisper as I continue to pepper her with kisses.
She knows the score of our world. Hell, this is the girl that demanded her father let her stay with me before we were married. She’s a queen in this world, and she’s not afraid to demand what she wants.
“I know,” she whispers back so quietly I almost don’t hear her, but I feel her breath against my throat.
I look down and see that her eyes are open as she traces the small scruff of hair on my chest.
I try to lift her chin, but she pushes against me, nuzzling further into my throat.
“Bella,look at me. Don’t hide those beautiful blues from me,” I whisper, conscious of not waking our six-week-old son.
“I’m hurt, Al, I don’t know how I’m meant to feel. On one hand, I want to stand by your side, to be strong, be your queen. But the thought of sharing you with another woman.” She shakes her head, still not meeting my gaze. “I… I can’t do that,” she chokes.
“Angelo, you will never have to share me with her. I have a duty to that baby. I can’t… I can’t not support that child, Cam. But she knows that by doing this, she has left that child without a father, because I cannot claim that child.”
“You claimed Andrea, before we even knew we would be married. You would have been a father to him,” she tells me almost stubbornly.
“Andrea’s mother is a Mafia queen, whether she wants to be or not. The blood of two underbosses runs through his veins. He was always part of my life from the moment I found out, so were you. I didn’t see how much I needed you before I had you.” Kissing her again, I force her to look up at me.
She resists, but eventually submits.
“That child is the child of a whore. I would never subject that child to our cruel world. Will I support it? Yes, it’s still my child. But will it know me? No, and that will be for its own good. I don’t know what game Juan is playing, but this was not a simple deliberate pregnancy. He’s trying to cause rifts in the ranks. He’s an intelligent man. Leo is strong, yes. But he’s ten times stronger because of the loyalty his men give him. Even those not in our world can see how close we are. We barely go a day without speaking. Juan admitted in so many words on the phone to Leo that to destroy him, he will destroy his men. I’m not making excuses,angelo. I had a past before you, but I will make this right. I just hope you can learn to forgive me.”
“You lied to me, Al, lied to my face for weeks. You should’ve told me. I’ve just had a baby. I feel so insecure about the way I look undressed. It just feels like a knife in the back that you knew she was pregnant and didn’t tell me.” She shakes her head from my hold but still keeps my gaze.
“Angelo,your body is perfect, you carried our son. For that I will forever cherish the marks that he’s left on you. Because they were made in creating him.” I pull the sheets from her and roll her onto her back, hovering above her.
She’s only wearing her panties and her nursing bra, that way she finds it easier to breast-feed. I lean down, pulling down the cups of her bra, I place a gentle kiss to each of her swollen breasts, careful not to put pressure on them. I made that mistake a few weeks ago and got an eyeful of milk.
I move downward and kiss each side of her ribs. I circle my tongue around her navel causing her to shudder, I know how much that turns her on. As I move south, she stiffens as I near her cesarean scar.
“Al… don’t,” she whimpers, going rigid.
I run my fingertip over the red raised healing scar.
“I love everything about you,angelo, even your scars. This scar.” I place a kiss to her cesarean scar, and she whimpers again. “I love this one in particular as it gave us our son.” I run my hands up from her knees and over her thighs.
Has her body changed since giving birth?
Yes.
Does it turn me the fuck on knowing why?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
