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“Must have been my imagination.”
“Must have been. Will you be sleeping here again tonight, or was it just a one-off?” I ask breezily as if we weren’t both standing naked in a steamy shower.
“I’m not much of a sleeper, but it would make sense to get used to sleeping in the same bed if we’re going to be living together.”
“We don’t have to, Rocco. You can just get me an apartment in the city, it will be easier for both of us. You can do all the things you need to do without me in the way.”
“I could say the same for you,” he snarls.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I want you to get this fucking thing removed,” he says, lifting my wrist. “I don’t want to look at you, knowing you have another man’s mark on you.”
“Yet it’s quite alright for women to come up to me at my wedding and say they’ve fucked my husband-to-be. Not quite a tattoo but something I won’t forget, not to mention your many transgressions in whorehouses and with every socialite on the East Coast.”
“I don’t have their name tattooed on me,” he says through clenched teeth.
“You might as well,” I seethe.
“Are you ever going to let me have the last word?” he says irritably.
“No,” I say angrily, reaching for the door, but he pushes me back roughly against the shower tiles.
Before I can reply, he picks me up and presses me against the cold tiles, my legs wrapping around his torso as I can feel his growing erection starting to brush against me. My hands automatically want to wrap around his neck, but he pushes them high above my head.
“I don’t know If you realized this about me, but I like being in control,” he says darkly as his mouth finds mine.
Every kiss is how I remembered it, dark, delicious, and feral—his tongue fighting for dominance against mine. I can barely make out his face in the steam of the shower, though every sensation feels heightened in the humidity. His mouth moves down to my jawline, leaving wet kisses all the way down my collarbone. I gasp as I feel his erection tease against my entrance. Pressure and arousal push against me like a tidal wave with each grind of his hips. He moves lower, and my arms are freed as his lips clamp around my nipple sending electric sensations throughout the rest of my body before he moves to the next breast.
My hands wrap around his neck when suddenly he drops to his knees, letting my own legs fall around his neck instead. The pure primal lust in his eyes tells me what he will do next before my body has time to react. Each lash of his tongue pushes me into the deeper throes of ecstasy. I push his head closer to me as the familiar sense of release falls on me, my body sagging over his in completion. He drops me gently as he straightens up.
“We have an hour before we need to leave,don’t be late.” he says, as he walks out of the shower, the door bangs loudly against the tiles.
My legs feel like jelly as I try to regain my composure. Where did any of that come from?
Although my mother and father were full-blown Sicilian, I had some family tiesin Capri. After my Nonna’s death, I also spent a little time here deciding on my next move. There was a time when I considered not being Don, letting my father’s name peter out with his death.
There was a part of me that wanted to fade into obscurity. This was just as much home to me as New York was, although they were two paradoxes. The sweet sea air is a nostalgic memory of mine of when I was young and not carrying such a weight on my shoulders. However, the memory of myself before being Don Rocco dimmed a little more each day. I had emerged from my father’s shadow; I had so far surpassed my fears of becoming like him and planned to keep it that way.
Today had gone perfectly. I played my part as Godfather, and Sophia played hers as a dutiful wife. Unless I hadn’t been there myself, you couldn’t have convinced me that what happened earlier was actually real. She barely acknowledged me unless asked a direct question. Our little moment was left firmly behind in the shower, except just thinking about it was enough to give me a hard-on.
“It is a great honor that you have agreed to be Dante’s Godfather,” Don Romano says, jerking me out of thoughts and bowing deeply.
“You were mine, so it is fitting I do the same for your grandson. After all, Bruno is one of the few men I trust.”
“I always knew you would be Don,” the old man smiles.
“You’re probably one of the few people that would have said that,” I snort.
“You had a quiet forcefulness in you from when you were a young boy, silent but deadly. Your old man was weak, but you have an iron will. I always knew you would be a better Don.”
“Hopefully I can stay away from the temptations that ruined him,” I say darkly.
“Is that why you wanted to get married? Make the gulf between you even bigger?”
“I needed to strengthen my position in New York, and I want to make the De Luca family, a formidable one. Getting in between the Rossi and Falcone powerhouses allows me to do that.”
“Not to mention you get a hot little number thrown in,” he says, giving Sophia an appreciative look.
