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“Just talk to me, T. Who knows, maybe I can help? Maybe you’ll feel better just talking it over.”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair, pulling at the ends. I can feel the thread I’m hanging by wearing thin. My breaking point is not something I want Holly to see ever again. She saw the destruction I caused when my father died. No, he didn’t die; he was fucking murdered. Fucking Lana, I really fucking want to hate her so I can kill her. Is my old man rolling over in his grave with the knowledge I haven’t avenged him? I laugh at the thought.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Holly?”
“Everything. Anything. Just talk to me, T. You are not in this alone anymore. We’re a team, remember? United.”
“You want to know how I have no fucking idea how I’m going to get this family through the war that’s fucking brewing in the streets right now? I have men dying as we speak, dolcezza, good fucking men. Dying because of me, because of their fucking loyalty to this family. The fucking Irish have a contract on my head. Is that what you want to know?” I yell as I swipe the contents of the dining table to the floor.
It’s not until I’ve flipped my chair back and I’m pacing the room that what I’ve just done sinks in. Fuck! I look at Holly, who hasn’t moved an inch. To her credit, my wife doesn’t cower. She doesn’t jump. She just waits. Watches.
“I’m sorry. Fuck! Dolcezza, I’m sorry… I didn’t… I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” I pick up my chair and sink back down into the seat. Resting my forearms on my legs, I let my head hang low.I just need to breathe, I tell myself as I silently count to ten inside my head. I need to get my shit together.
I look up. Holly still hasn’t said a word. She continues to observe me, until she slowly stands and walks around the table, avoiding the mess that now covers the ground. Pushing my shoulders back, she pulls her hem up to her hips before she straddles me. Where the fuck does she keep finding these tight little dresses anyway? I run my hands down her arms, and she shivers. Holly cups my cheeks. “You can yell at me. You can throw shit around the room. I don’t care. I’ll still be here, always. I want to help. But I can’t help if you don’t let me in, T.”
“Right now, I want to forget. I want to forget that my father was murdered. I want to forget that I’m the fucking head of the family and supposed to have all the answers. I want to forget that my mother hid the identity of my biological father my whole life. I just want to forget,” I admit.
Holly’s lips tilt up. She slides her hands down to my waist and unfastens my belt. “I can help you forget for a little while.”
“Uh-huh, and how do you plan to do that?” I ask, watching as she pulls out my cock and starts stroking.
“Mmm, I have a few ideas.” She slides off my lap and down to her knees in front of me.
Her tongue glides up the seam of my tip and circles around. I groan. Then I remember what happened last time she was in this position. “Dolcezza, you don’t have to do this. I don’t want you getting sick.”
“Shut up, T.” She closes her mouth around me, sucking me right into the back of her throat.
“Oh, fuck.” One of my hands rakes through her hair and tugs upward. I need to see her face. Our eyes connect and that’s when I forget. In that moment, I lose myself in her, in the sensation of her wet, warm mouth sucking me, her eyes shining with unshed tears and something else. They’re shining with love. Complete adoration.
“Mmm, I think I just discovered what my first pregnancy craving is going to be,” she says as she drags her tongue from my balls to my tip and back down again. She closes her mouth around my balls and pumps my cock with her tight palm.
Holy shit, that feels good. “Fuck, dolcezza, what kind of fuckery are you doing down there? Don’t stop. Shit!”
She looks up at me, and her lips tilt as much as they can when her mouth is full. My head falls back. I’m going to fucking come if she keeps this up. I’m not letting that happen. I gently pull on the hair still clenched in my fist and yank her up and onto my lap. My mouth slams down onto hers, our tongues dueling for ownership before she sinks into me and lets me control her movements. She doesn’t know just how submissive her body is to mine.
I pull her panties to the side and dip my finger inside her, testing her readiness for me. She’s fucking drenched. Her moans are like a lullaby to my ears. She pushes forward on her tippy-toes and grabs my cock, lining it up at her entrance before she slowly sinks down on me.
“Fuck me,” I growl. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being amazed at how fucking good her pussy feels wrapped around my cock. It’s fucking pure ecstasy.
Holly grinds down on me. “Oh, I fully plan to,” she says as she pushes herself back up and drops down again.
“Fuck… Again. Do that again.” My hands go to her hips, guiding her up slowly before slamming her back down. Fast. “I need to fuck you, Holly. I need to….” My thoughts trail off as she repeats the motion.
“Yes, T, please.”
“Please what, dolcezza?” I want to hear her say it. I love hearing her say it.
“Fuck me, T. Fuck me so I can still feel you when I’m walking around tomorrow. Fuck me like you own me.”
I pick her up and walk to the dining table, laying her on top of it. “I do fucking own you, dolcezza,” I say as I thrust into her. I hold her hips in place as I drive forward and back. Hard and fast. “Pull your tits out. I want to see them bounce as I fuck you!” I command. She doesn’t disappoint. She drags the fabric of her dress down—she’s not wearing a fucking bra. I watch her tits bounce as I lose myself in her. “Best. Fucking. Pussy. Ever!” I grunt.
“Oh God, I’m…” Her mouth parts in a not-so-silent pout. And I follow her off that cliff as her screams echo against the walls.
Covered in sweat and panting, I tug her to her feet, drop her dress back in place and readjust her neckline. Then, I do up my fly and button my pants before picking her up and walking out of the room.
“What are you doing?”
“If you think I’m even remotely close to being finished with you, you’re out of your beautiful fucking mind. This is far from over.”
