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Kieran shrugs, moving around to the front of the chair as bright red blood pools beneath Dominic’s feet. He’s pale and barely awake. “Maybe not, but it’s pretty fucking fun.”
My father cocks an eyebrow at me, and I just shake my head. We’re in this now. Can’t turn back.
We watch as Dominicfinallyloses consciousness, but Kieran doesn’t appear to be finished. He crouches, pinching the skin on Dom’s left thigh, and then glides the blade gently down the middle. A vertical line that immediately begins leaking, blood pumping from the wound at an impossible rate.
“Oh, fuck.” Marco dry heaves, darting across the room to puke in an empty trash can.Maybe he needs to get out of the warehouse more often.My father sighs, and Gia looks away from the mess in front of us.
I swallow as Kieran stands, eyes trained on Dom’s thigh until the last drop spurts out. Feeling a bit woozy myself just from being here with him, I nod to my men and turn on my heel, trying to focus on the success of the evening, even if it did get more intense than I’d anticipated.
As I make my way to my car parked outside, sliding behind the wheel and heading toward the airport, happiness roots itself deep in my soul, a tree sprouting from the dirt and flourishing.
We’re free, baby.
I slip out of my clothes silently, watching my wife’s chest rise and fall with soft, sleepy breaths. When I boarded the private jet, a loan from Rafe Ricci as a late wedding gift, Juliet sat in the cabin flipping through a magazine. She pointed her thumb in the direction of the bedroom toward the back, not even bothering to glance up, apparently not interested in striking up a conversation with me.
Which is probably best given my clothes are covered in her father’s blood.
Kicking off my slacks, I scrub my hands over my face and slide under the comforter beside Caroline, pulling her body back into mine. I tuck my chin over her shoulder as she stirs, kissing the side of her mouth when her eyes flutter open.
The take-off signal appears on the wall, and I sigh in relief, glad we’re about to get some reprieve from this awful little town.
“You made it,” she rasps, rolling to face me. Having changed out of her dress from earlier, she’s clad in one of my old t-shirts; it dwarfs her, skimming mid-thigh, and making me hard as a fucking rock.
“Was there ever any doubt?” I nuzzle under her ear, smoothing a hand over her stomach. “How’re you two doing?”
“We’re okay. Glad it’s all over.” She wraps her arms around my neck, drawing me closer. Moving in to press her lips to my chin, she pauses, tilting her head. “What’s that?”
Her hand touches my jaw, her thumb spreading over the skin there. “What’s what?”
“It looks like…” She blinks, eyes darkening into stormy seas I want to lose myself in. A shudder works over her, and I slide my hand to her ass, pulling her leg over my hip. “...blood.”
I lick my lips, entirely distracted by her beauty. “It probably is.”
Swallowing, she stares at the spot, hands retreating slightly. They land on my chest, a whisper of a touch, and I moan because I want them elsewhere. Want my body inside her, want to climb her hills, and die there.
“What did you do?”
“What I had to.” Her bottom lip quivers and I lean down, catching it between my teeth. “Shh,mio amore.Don’t say anything that might ruin this moment.”
Her nails flex into my skin, little pinpricks that have my dick swelling, and she taps me once. Twice. Three times. Tears pool in her eyes, and she shakes her head, blinking them away. “I love you, Elia.”
My heart soars, a flock of millions of starlings taking flight and filling the sky with their black bodies. I tug her on top of me, pushing up the t-shirt and pulling myself from my boxers. Slipping my fingers between her thighs, I find her panty-less, soaking already. “Fuck, baby. I need you.”
No time for foreplay as wanton feelings throb through me, making me feel dizzy. Nodding, she helps me strip her bare, positioning her hips over mine. I fist my dick, lining it up with her pussy, and on an exhale, she sinks down, engulfing me.
Flames of desire lick at my skin, press at the recesses of my brain. She swivels her hips, and I reach around and grip her ass in my palms, guiding her movements. Fast and hard, then slow and smooth, tortuous grinding that has me gritting my teeth against release.
My thumb finds her clit, rubbing tight circles around the pulsating bud, and she undulates on top of me, coming on a silent scream. As her pussy flutters around my cock, milking my orgasm from me, I stuff two fingers in her mouth. “Suck me. Show me what else you love, my dirty, gorgeous wife.”
She obeys, eyes flaring, picking up the pace of her hips. Leaning up on her knees, she bounces up and down, the sound of her ass slapping against my thighs deafening in the little room. I palm one of her tits, rolling my fingers over her hardened nipple, and she fucks me harder, showing meeverythingshe’s never been able to say.
I come like a teenage boy, unable to hold off as her second orgasm wreaks havoc on her body, pussy clamping down around me like a goddamn vise. My seed paints her insides, weeping from the release, and she collapses on top of me, breathing like a track star.
Sliding my hands down her back, smoothing them over the curve of her ass, a sense of surreal contentedness takes over me, settling deep in my bones. I didn’t think I’d ever get this. Didn’t think I deserved it. But as she tilts her face up to mine, smiling at me like a woman destroyed by a fabulous orgasm, I realize I was wrong.
Men like me might not often know peace, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve it.
I’ve just started to drift off to sleep when her timid voice draws me back. “Elia?”
