Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Saverio

W hen Anya tells me what she learned from Bertrand, I put word out on the street that I’m looking for Mary, offering a reward for any information that will lead to finding her. Then I do something I was saving for later, something I wanted to relish when I dealt the death blow. I sit down behind my desk in the study and call Raphael Morelli.

“Took you long enough,” he says, his tone smug. “I thought we were friends. Forgive me, but I took your absence to mean you’re not interested in working with me at Obsidian any longer. I think it’s better for everyone that I took over the reins.” He adds with a grin I can fucking hear in his voice, “As well as Luigi’s old territories. I reckoned with all the time it’s going to take you to become a man again—well, more or less, seeing how many holes and punctures you have in your body—you’d appreciate it if I handled things.”

His day will come. I’ll see to it if it’s the last thing I do. “You’re a traitor, Morelli, the lowest of the low.”

“Are you accusing me of something?” he asks with mocked surprise.

“Everyone knows who broke a sacred vow to shed blood at my wedding. Only a greedy man with no honor would do that.”

“Oh come on.” He chuckles. “That’s speculation and, may I add, very unfair. Where’s the evidence?”

“When I’m done with you, everyone will know without a doubt what a dishonorable man you are.”

He’s quiet for a moment, the tiniest sliver of uncertainty palpable through the line. “Is there something I can do for you? My wife is pregnant, as you know, and she’s as sick as a dog, poor thing. It’s rather cute how affected she is with my seed in her womb. At least I’m man enough to impregnate a woman.”

Getting a rise out of me isn’t going to work. Our vendetta has gone way beyond that. He’s already dead to me. It’s just a matter of finding the right moment to plant a bullet in his brain.

“To make a long story short,” he continues, “I should get back to her. I do enjoy fucking her with her protruding belly, especially when she’s lying so limp and washed out on the bed with no willpower to fight me.”

“You’re a sick prick,” I say. “I’m going to keep this short because your voice is giving me heartburn and spoiling my lunch. What was your business with Mary Brennan? And before you deny it, I have the video footage of you at the rehabilitation center.”

“Oh,” he drawls. “I heard she escaped. Too bad.”

My tone is icy. Measured. “What were you doing there?”

“I thought I’d visit your mother-in-law and get to know the family. I wanted to show some support after everything blew up in your faces.” He laughs. “Excuse the pun.”

“If you know where Mary is, I’m giving you one chance to tell me.”

“Sorry, brother. I have no idea where she’s hiding.” His words are sugary. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“I suggest you enjoy the next few days. Maybe spend them with the people you care about.” If his voice is sugary, mine is pure evil. “They’ll be your last ones on Earth.”

With my message delivered, I hang up.

What the fuck was Raphael doing with Mary at the center? If he went there to kill her, she would’ve been dead. Why did she stab her caretaker and escape the very next day? Is that why she wanted to see Anya and Claire? Did Raphael put her up to it? Did he pay her to spy on us?

Rubbing my burning eyes, I get up and try a few steps without the cane. It’s still difficult, but I’m determined to beat this disability. Continuing with the hated cane, I find Anya in the lounge in front of a giant bouquet of roses in every color of the rainbow. The perfume of the blooms sweetens the air.

She pulls a card from a spike stuck in the arrangement when I approach.

My jealousy is like a live wire, ready to set spark to the mother of all explosions. Yet I somehow manage to keep my voice normal. “Who’s that from?”

She sighs and hands me the card.

Congratulations on your big win.

PS: I didn’t know your favorite color, so I got them all.

The note is signed with BB.

Benson Bennett.

Suppressing the urge to crumple the thick cardboard paper in my fist and grab my gun before going to his club, I return the card to my wife. “He seems smitten with you.”

She dumps the card on the coffee table. “I feel so guilty about the whole thing.”

That makes me smile. My good girl feels guilty about cheating.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pull her against me. “I love your morals.”

“I cheated. I don’t have morals.”

“Oh but you do.” Unable to resist, I kiss her lips. “Or else you wouldn’t feel guilty.”

A flush spreads over her cheeks. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Fine.” I sneak in another peck on her lips. “We won’t talk about it again.” My tone darkens. “You didn’t tell me he propositioned you.”

Her eyes flare. “Who told you?”

“The man himself.”

“What?” She leans back in my hold and cranes her neck to study me. “Benson?”

“He came to the club.” I utter a wry chuckle. “In the hope of seeing you.”

She frowns. “I told him I was married.”

“Oh, he knows. There’s not a person in this city who doesn’t know you belong to me.” Possessiveness sparks in my gut when I say, “You’re Mrs. De Luca now.”

Another man’s interest in my wife makes me hot under the collar. It makes me want to prove to him, her, and the whole world that she’s mine. She wears my ring, and she carries my surname. More than that, she chose me. She fucking chose me . I want to rub that in Bennett’s face.

I hold her to me, unwilling to let her go. “Some people don’t care about a ring, tesoro . They’ll take what’s not theirs with no qualms about promises and vows.”

“I care,” she says, searching my face.

“In the future, please tell me.”

“Do you think I enjoy making you jealous? That’s not who I am. Anyway, I thought about his ridiculous proposal for all of one second. That’s how inconsequential it was to me.”

“Just tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to hear it from someone else.”

A smile softens her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. If someone propositions me in the future, I’ll tell you.”

“Good.” I kiss her again just because I can. And again. “But I’m still going to burn the flowers.”

Her smile turns coy. “That will be a sad waste. How about donating it to the hospital instead? Some patients have no one to bring them flowers.”

“I’ll consider it,” I say, slipping my hand from her middle to cup her tight ass.

She bites her lip.

“What, tesoro ?”

“Does that mean you’re not going to cheat on me either?” she asks with a hesitant light in her whisky-colored eyes.

“Cheating is a hard no for me.”

Her expression saddens. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up. I know it’s a painful subject for you.”

“This isn’t about my ex. This is about you and me.” I squeeze her ass. “Got that?”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and nods.

“I told you once we’re exclusive.” I drop the cane on the sofa so that I can catch her chin between my fingers and tilt her head for her gaze to meet mine. “That hasn’t changed. It will never change. Do you remember what I said about touching another man?”

Her throat ripples as she swallows. She manages another nod in my hold.

I continue in a dark tone. “If Bennett touched you, he’s dead. I can promise you it will be slow and painful.”

“He didn’t,” she says quickly. “He was actually very professional about the setup. A female guard patted Livy and me down in the ladies’ room.”

“He’s a very fucking lucky man.”

She grins. “He’s five million unluckier.”

I’m proud of this woman, but I also admire the hell out of her. “You’re devious, know that?”

“Me?” She bats her eyelashes. “I thought I was your good girl.”

“Fucking dangerous,” I say, fixing my gaze on her luscious lips.

My blood heats with something other than possession, pride, and admiration, something that makes my cock strain in my pants.

She gasps, no doubt feeling the steel-hard rod that grows against her stomach.

I like that her reaction is always so innocent, as if I’m not constantly hard around her and as if my arousal surprises her.

I go into that mode that makes me more predator than man, an animalistic instinct demanding that she submits to me.

Holding up a finger, I give her a warning. “Stay.”

Apprehension washes over her features, but from the way her breathing quickens, there’s also anticipation in the mix.

That’s right, beautiful.

I’m going to take her right here, next to that ridiculously big bouquet of expensive roses, and she’d be wise not to make me hunt her now.

Like the good girl she is, she stays glued to the spot while I backtrack with uneven, difficult steps to the door. I don’t take my eyes off her as I close it. She stares at me with those large, golden pools when I reach behind me and flick the lock in place.

I’m glad she doesn’t say anything. I’m especially glad she doesn’t protest when I walk back to her. Her pulse flutters in her neck, but she looks up at me with a trusting gaze, knowing I’m not going to do anything she won’t like.

I clasp her shoulders between my hands and dive for her mouth. I want to taste those pink lips. I want to swallow her strawberry breaths and steal the oxygen from her lungs.

My hands are everywhere on her all at once. I grope and groan like a depraved man, needing her like never before. I’m rough and greedy, kneading my fingers on her tits, stomach, and ass. Her thighs. Between her legs.

She drags in sharp little breaths, sucking the air from our kiss in that responsive way I like so much. The sounds she utters are fuel on my fire, not that I need more flames. I’m already consumed by an inferno, too far gone to bother with removing her clothes.

Locking my hands around her waist, I spin her around and bend her over the armrest of the sofa. She catches her weight on her arms, planting her hands on the seat.

That’s good.

I work the skirt of her dress over her hips, bunching the fabric around her middle. “You better hold on, treasure.”

She glances over her shoulder at me, her red hair hanging in a glossy waterfall over her face. I unbuckle and unzip. Already as I take out my cock, I push a knee between her legs to spread her open. The white lace thong is sexy but in the way. I rip it off without a second thought, leaving it where it falls. I test her with a finger to check if she’s ready. She’s more than ready. She’s dripping wet for me.

Grabbing the root of my cock, I position it at her slit. She arches back, teasing me by rubbing those plump pussy lips over the crest. It’s all the invitation I need. I plunge deep, splitting her open and impaling her on my aching cock in a single thrust. Her moan spurs me on. I move, covering my length with her slickness. Fuck but she’s tight.

Knowing I’m going to ride her hard this time, I find purchase on her hips. My fingers dig into her soft flesh as I yank her back while punching my hips up and forward at the same time. She utters a yelp as I hit a barrier inside. I take note of how deep I am. I’m buried to the hilt, my balls pressed against her ass. She can take me. She can take everything. So I pull out and give her more, driving my cock into her with sharp slaps of my groin against her ass.

She pushes back with every thrust, taking me at the same maddening pace and riding me just as hard as I’m pummeling her pussy. My cock grows impossibly thick. It’s so hard it’s painful. I swear all the blood dropped from my head to my groin. The pleasure is so blinding I go fucking dizzy. It must be the shortage of blood in the upper part of my body. It feels as if I’m about to fry my brain.

Too close.

Can’t stop.

I pound out that harsh rhythm, jiggling her tits and ass. I revel in that beautiful sight, enjoying how her pussy lips stretch to take me and how hard her tight little hole works to swallow me.

Not going to last.

I slip a hand around her stomach and between her legs, rolling her clit between my fingers. When her belly contracts beneath my arm and her inner muscles strangle the life out of my cock, I pinch. Hard.

She shouts my name as she comes, triggering my own release. It’s heaven and hell and fucking oblivion and torture at the same time. Painfully good. I come and come. The tormenting pleasure continues as ribbon after ribbon of cum spurts from my cock until I’ve filled up her pussy. I come until my seed leaks from the place where we’re connected, and then I come some more.

I’m wasted when it’s over. I don’t know how long I pinned her beneath me with my fingers digging into her hip and into the petal-like folds of her pussy that are stretched to the limit around my girth. All I know is that I’m still holding her down and pivoting my hips with sporadic punches, getting off inside her even when I’m dry.

Her biceps shake. Her arms finally collapse under her weight, her body folding double over the armrest. And fuck me. I’m hard again. Still. The need pushes up, building at the base of my spine, and I’m spent but unsatiated, ready for round two.

She’s slick enough with our combined release to pick up where I left off. Spread out in front of me, she’s a temptation I can’t resist. I suck my thumb into my mouth, coating it with my saliva, and bridge her dark hole while fucking her pussy in all earnest again.

She arches her back, uttering a sound of surprise, but it’s the good kind. So I stretch her more and take her harder. Make her fuller.

Her teeth chatter from the force of my thrusts. My control is broken. Snapped. I want more. So much more. I need more. I can’t stop, not before we both come again. Not before I take us to a new pinnacle of pleasure.

This time, it’s agonizing. Coming dry is painful. My cock is pumped raw. But I shove deep, letting her pussy milk me while I fuck her ass with my hand. Two fingers. Three. Unable to stop. To breathe.

When her overworked muscles clench around me, I bring the palm of my free hand down on her left globe, leaving a red glow on her pearly skin. Her lower body locks in place, her pretty ass and pussy sucking my cock and my fingers deeper. I spank her the way she likes, giving her just enough sting to heat but not to hurt. Stuffed full in her ass and her pussy, she comes so hard every muscle in her body goes taut.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” I croon. “You did it, baby. You made me come so fucking hard twice over.”

Pulling my fingers free, I cover her back with my chest and kiss her neck. I don’t feel my body. Not even my knee is bothering me. The only part of me that has feeling is the part that’s inside her, the place where we’re joined.

I’ve been rough. Too rough.

I pull out with a groan. Even though her pussy is like velvet, sliding my cock from that tight fist hurts. I think I took my skin off. Broke myself in two inside her.

And still, it’s not enough.

Never enough.

Wrapping my arms around her, I open my mouth to let the first incoherent thing that enters my mind tumble out, and I nearly bite off my tongue when my brain registers almost too late what I was about to say.

I love you. I love you so hard it fucking hurts.

I stumble back, leaving her cold and making her whimper. She’s bent over the armrest with my cum dripping down her thighs, a stunning picture of ruined innocence and defiled beauty. She needs me to take care of her, to clean her up and help her to her feet. Instead, I shove my cock back into my pants. I don’t look at her as I zip up. I don’t linger to examine what this means. My brain must be malfunctioning from all the pleasure.

That’s it.

That’s all it can be.

That’s what I tell myself when I leave her there in a mess and flee.