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“Santa’s coming, baby,” I growl into her tit, releasing my frustration as I bang her against the wall, my feet slipping on the floor with the effort as she goes boneless in my arms.
There is no stopping this now. How it will not come to destroy everything I’ve built, I don’t know.
But, she will come first. Now and forever.
CHAPTER4
Gennero
Fucking hell, I can’t stop thinking about the sounds she made when she came. How her soft body melted into my arms as pleasure wove us together.
My obsession will not be quenched by a taste. It will only grow until the fire consumes us both.
I’m a sick fuck, yeah. I was probably headed to hell either way, but the devil must be sharpening his knives, thinking of all the ways he’s going to torture me for this. He’s probably getting the VIP treatment ready for me right now.
If it wasn’t time for Lucy and Carina’s dance lesson, with their teacher Alik turning up a couple of hours ago interrupting us, I’d be buried balls deep in her juicy cunt, instead of sitting here thinking about it while a ghost from my past shifts nervously just inside the private outside entrance to my workshop.
“Don Sabato…” Bobby Marconi inclines his head, and I have to suppress a laugh. Time was, Bobby would have gladly slit my throat had we crossed paths. Now, he comes here with respect and contrition. Oh, how the world turns.
I stand and cross the room, holding my hand out. And when he shakes it, I pull him into a hug. It’s strange, but these people from my past before I was forced into hiding give me a sense of familiarity and comfort. And under the rules of the Christmas truce, neither of us will try to kill the other. Not today.
“Fai come fossi a casa tua,” I welcome him to my home. “Close the door, though. Those fucking reindeer will wander in here looking for a warm place to shit if I’m not careful.”
He does as I say, then retrieves a medium-sized gift bag from the floor next to his snow-covered boots.
He always was a big guy. I remember him as a kid in the streets of South Chicago, running around everyone’s ankles when I was in my early twenties, and fuck his mother made the world’s best cannoli’s.
Can’t blame him for getting fat. It’s no crime. I just wish I had a fucking cannoli right now.
“Your wife here with you?” I ask, smelling a faint whiff of alcohol on him, as if he needed a little Dutch courage to come in here and make his greetings.
He shakes his head, clearing his throat. “We’re still settling in, you know? Just came to give you these—” He shakes the bag by his side. “—and make my apologies that I can’t come tomorrow. Our apologies, I mean. Shelly and me.”
There’s a lot more in those words than he’s letting on, but I won’t press it. She’s likely mad at him, upset that his life has led her here, away from friends and family and the life she thought she was building in the high rises of New York.
“How long you been here?” I ask. “A month? That first month or two can be tough, but she will get used to it.”
That’s the truth of this existence in exile, whether it be by the feds for witness protection or an agreement among families for whatever reason. I needed a truce, and this life bought that for me. A tense truce, but a truce nonetheless.
“That’s what Don Pugliesi told me, too,” he says with a nod, and a tickle of bile bites at the back of my throat.
I don’t hate Alfredo ‘the Don’ Pugliesi. We’ve been allies a long time and I’d even go as far as to call him a friend. Such as friends are in my world.
But for the last two years, he’s been pressuring me to marry Carina to his son, Sully.
That’s not going to happen.
Not a chance I was going to perpetuate with my granddaughter the cycle that started generations ago—marrying for the sake of alliances, never love. I won’t do it to Lucy and I sure as hell won’t do it to Carina.
As my mind wanders back to the way Carina’s tongue felt in my mouth, the taste of our kiss, I see Lucy coming at me with a kitchen knife, slashing at the air as I back away, spewing her hatred at me for what I have done with her sister.
I growl, then shake my head at Bobby’s expression. His eyes bulge, his chest caved in. “You are fine. Reminded me I have business to settle with Alfredo, that’s all,” I say, trying to keep my dick from rising as the image of my teeth marks on her tit assault me.
When the Don arrives tomorrow with his fucking son, I’ll be polite, but if he so much as mentions Carina, the Christmas truce will quickly become the Christmas massacre.
“It’s a… nice place you got here,” Bobby stutters, handing me the bag as I take my seat in a leather armchair and point him to the one next to me flanking the fireplace. “Someone said you got reindeer?”
I nod. “It’s a reindeer farm. That’s my cover. Really just pets for my granddaughters.”
