Chapter Sixteen

Sweet Home

Willow

I give Rafe the full tour of the home I grew up in. It is nothing near as impressive as the Gallo estate but I loved living here until my uncle darkened our door. Even though I have some less-than-stellar memories of the handful of years I lived under his thumb, I do still remember the times with my parents fondly. There is a lot more good than bad when it comes to the Hernandez estate.

I show him the library, the kitchen, the rooms upstairs, and my office. He takes it all in stride, asking questions about whether I will redecorate or if I even want to keep the house.

"Of course I want to keep the house," I reply in shock. "It's not the building that hurt me. It was the people within and they're gone now."

"That makes sense," he replies, looking around the dining room. "Does Roman feel the same?"

"You know just as much as I do about how Roman feels."

My heart hurts at the thought of my younger brother. I hate that I have been unable to protect him from all the horrible things that have happened to our family. That he is still being used as a pawn in a game he has no fucking idea how to play.

My mind drifts to Devon and I know I must do better. The bad things that happen may scar us but they also have the power to build us up and make us stronger. I just need to find a way to get Roman to see things the way I do.

"Is that the entire tour?" Rafe asks, drawing me out of my own mind.

"Well, you've seen the outside of the house and the backyard." I glare playfully, referencing his last visit. "And I doubt you want to go back into…"

My words drift off but he knows exactly what I am talking about.

"The chapel," he murmurs.

I have mixed feelings about that part of the estate. It's where I married Rafe and for better or worse I love him. It's also where I killed Sebastian and reclaimed my family for Roman and for myself.

But it is where Armand died and just thinking about him being put down like a dog has a lump rising in my throat, the pain still fresh. I may not have known him for years but the old man had wormed his way into my heart and I often missed him.

"I haven't decided what to do with it yet," I say, shifting from foot to foot. "It's been in our family for generations. There have been weddings and christenings in there. But so much has been tainted by blood and pain. Maybe I should just close it up."

Rafe tilts his head to the side, assessing me with his sharp gaze.

"The first time I stepped foot in that chapel was the day I married you," he says, echoing my earlier thoughts. "Do you know what my first thought was when I realized who you were?"

"What is she doing here?"

He chuckles. "Well, yes. My second thought, then?" At the shake of my head he continues, "I remember thinking the fucking priest needed to hurry up before I fucked you on the pulpit for everyone to see."

Heat suffuses my face. It's like my pussy is voice activated. I would be ashamed about the dirty thoughts that roll through my mind or the way I constantly want my husband to use and abuse my body for his pleasure and mine, but I fucking love it.

And he does too.

Grabbing my hand he drags me along the corridor until we reach the adjoining building with the heavy oak doors that bar us entry to the chapel.

"I think we should fix it up," he says cupping my face. "And I think we should make new memories here." He kisses my lips gently.

"Rafe…" I say his name but he drags me inside, not letting me finish my thought.

"Our children will be both Gallo and Hernandez. This is their heritage whether we like it or not," he explains. He takes the four short steps onto the dais, and pulls me behind him. "I want our children to be baptized here too. Like their mother, uncle, and their forefathers."

A flutter erupts in my stomach. We've never spoken about children. I wasn't sure it was something either of us wanted. Watching him now, seeing him like this, I can't think of anything else. He may not be the best man in the world—we all have our faults—but I can't see Rafe being anything but a good father.

Turning into his body I take his wrist in my hand, guiding it between my legs. The flowy purple dress I am wearing allows him easy access. His fingers lift the material until he connects with the lace covering my sex. We stare deeply into each other's eyes, silently communicating.

"Let's start over," he whispers. "We can forget everything that happened before this moment and treat each other right. Let me be the man you need."

His fingers stroke back and forth across the already dampening material, not to manipulate me but because he can't help it.

"What does that mean, Rafe?" I ask softly.

"It means I love you. It means living without you for ten fucking days was the worst torture in my life. I want to do this right. Give you the wedding of your dreams and then fuck my baby into your womb. I want us to build this empire together. Gallo and Hernandez, side by side."

I can see the raw honesty and vulnerability in his gaze. He is taking a leap of faith and this time it's my turn to catch him.

"I want that too," I say. Standing on my toes I kiss the underside of his chin. "But I think we should start with the fucking. A wedding can wait until after everything else settles down."

My words have barely left my lips before he turns me toward the intricate wooden pulpit.

"Hold tight, wife," he says beside my ear. "Your men will be wanting to see you shortly so this will be hard and fast."

"Yes!" I hiss as he flips my dress over my ass.

The sound of rending material is loud in the cavernous room as he tears my underwear from my body. My fingers curl around the wooden edges as I stand on my toes, pushing my ass further into the air. Rafe's fingers run through my folds, gathering my wetness before rubbing my clit harshly.

"I love that only I get to see you this way. In public, you are the perfect wife, slightly unhinged but always so formal. Even when you're taking someone's life. And I love you for it." His engorged cock slips into my channel with ease and a moan escapes us both. "But it's this, this is the part that has me burning for you. My perfect whore, always ready and waiting for me to fuck you. Even in a goddamned house of God."

My cunt flutters with my impending orgasm. His filthy words spur me on, ramping up my arousal. Rafe fucks me harder, the sounds of our connecting flesh and my arousal ringing through the room. His hand caresses my stomach through the material of my dress.

"I can't wait to fuck you when you're round with our child."

His words set me off. My orgasm steals my breath and my knees buckle. Rafe catches me and drapes my spent body across the pulpit, never stopping his punishing thrusts. The wood scrapes at my skin and a corner hits me in the hip but I don't complain. More moans fall from my lips as my husband becomes crazed, thrusting into me so harshly if I didn't know better I would think he was trying to breed me right this minute.

He loses his tempo and soon a roar reaches the rafters as his cock thickens inside me before he paints my insides with his seed. Taking me with him, he collapses to the floor, breathing heavily. I lay spread across his chest with a smile I can't, and quite honestly don't want to, hide.

"Don't knock me up too soon," I say, softly. His entire body goes rigid beneath me and I chuckle. Lifting myself up I kiss the tip of his nose. "I really am enjoying the practice rounds."