Dark Mafia Heir (Mafia Vows #3)

Chapter 16

16

Antonio

W hen I arrive at the club, Luca and Lorenzo are already seated, waiting.

I collapse on the velvet sofa beside theirs and swing one arm above the rim. Luca lifts a tumbler to his lips with a brow raised, and when the light flashes in his direction, I see the question in his eyes directed at me. I ignore him.

Lorenzo takes his gun out of the holster between his belt, drops it on the center table, and runs a hand through his hair as he leans back.

“Judging by that look on Nio’s face, I doubt that whatever’s going on is anything good. Another round, on me.”

The corner of Luca’s lips tilt upwards, and he stares into his tumbler. “It’s literally on the house, Lorenzo.”

“Well, I’m the one placing the fucking order, so at least my name’s going on the book.”

Stupefied, Luca shakes his head and tilts his head back to down the entire drink in one gulp. He brings his head back up and reaches for the bottle of Kauffman on the table. “The clock’s ticking, Nio. I thought we came here to cool off.”

I rub the crease between my brows. “We are cooling off.”

They are. I’m not.

I’m literally teetering on the edge, boiling and brewing at the same time. It’s fucking uncomfortable, and there’s a constant ticking somewhere at the back of my head, like a bomb that might go off at any minute.

“Then why do you look like you want to shoot somebody?”

I see Lorenzo’s smug smirk and immediately want to wipe it off with the back of my hand. The bastard knows exactly why I’m all riled up. If it wasn’t for his years of devotion and loyalty to Dante and me, I might have put a fucking bullet in his head this afternoon. He’d seen my anger, smirked at my jealousy, and shook his head before strutting off.

“I don’t think I want to talk about it.”

They share a look, and Luca shrugs. Like Lorenzo, he stretches backward on the sofa and doesn’t take his eyes off me. “It’s that serious, huh? You hear about Joey’s trouble with his wife?”

Lorenzo chuckles, but Luca’s poker face stays intact. I’m not sure I get it at first instance, but if I do, it means I have to also deal with the men sticking their nose in my fucking business.

Glaring at him, I reach for a tumbler on the table and fill the glass. “Who the fuck is Joey?”

“Some guy.”

“Then how the fuck am I supposed to care about some random guy and his fucking wife, huh? Please, enlighten me, Luca.” That bomb is close to fucking detonating.“

Realizing that I’m better off hearing what he has to say without beating around the bush, his shoulders sag, and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Joey’s you, Nio. Respectfully, you look like shit. Like a tornado blew through. Everything good with your new wife?”

“My best guess is no.”

I neither have the strength to bother with Lorenzo, nor affirming Luca’s question. I shake my head and take the glass to my lips.

It wasn’t any of their fault that Vivienne intentionally wanted to drive me nuts. She is so fucking stubborn, I find it hot, and infuriating at the same time.

“I guess that’s a good thing then.”

I raise my eyes to Luca, and when he sees that I’m not catching on, he clarifies. “We’ve never thought you could put up with a submissive woman anyway, the giggling idiots—that kind.”

Lorenzo barks a short laugh, collecting his hair in a tight bun atop his head. “You fucking like them feisty, and Vivienne matches that description.”

“Why the fuck do you enjoy your blood pressure going up and down like that?”

“He likes the rush, keeps his energy going.”

The conversation practically twists into a back-and-forth tease between my two men. My head falls back as I watch them laugh their fucking heads off, while they throw subtle jabs, and take hits at me, one after the other.

Colorful flashing lights rhythmically resonate with thrumming music and at the center stages, neon hoops glow on the strippers twirling on poles. Three of those girls walk over to our section, prancing seductively with their boobs and asses barely covered.

My teeth clench when an image of Vivienne coming out of that fucking pool crosses my mind. The ray of sunlight shimmering on her golden skin like tiny crystals, the tempting dip and curve of her fucking body, and the fiery blaze in her green eyes told me she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Hello, ladies.”

When I look up, Luca and Lorenzo have welcomed their pick from the whores, and the last one standing comes up to me. The blonde one. I recognized her from previous nights ago.

Lowering herself, she straddles my lap, smiles at me, and brushes her finger under my jaw. “Hi, Daddy.”

Luca picks it up from where he’s seated and laughs. “You should let her check your blood pressure, Daddy. Who knows, she might be your remedy?”

I glare at him and turn to the beaming girl. I pick her hand off my face. “I’m not your daddy, and I’m not in the mood.” Even to me, I sound unnaturally calm, and believe that the girl has gotten the message.

She hasn’t.

Her hand floats back to my face, and her thumb strokes my jaw. “I can get you in the mood, if you let me.”

There’s only one woman on my mind, and it’s not her. Not her, not anyone else. Coming to that conclusion, that ticking time bomb finally detonates.

“Get the fuck off.”

“But—”

Before she finishes, I’m on my feet, and she falls to the floor, staring up at me with a look of horror and disgust. I don’t owe her an explanation, and I don’t acknowledge Luca or Lorenzo before marching off.

As it turns out, the one place I thought I could cool off, made me remember why I wanted to cool off in the first place. Even from a distance, she still manages to rile me up and infiltrate my thoughts.

If anyone’s the remedy, it might just be my fucking wife.

When I get home, and into the bedroom, Vivienne is nowhere to be seen. I’m already bulldozing my way towards the door to cause hell if my men let her escape, when soft sounds from the bathroom make my feet stop.

The woman could take shower trips more than I did to save my own life.

Dropping my keys and phone on the nightstand, I kick off my shoes, and slip into the bathroom.

The shower is on, so she doesn’t hear me come in, and unintentionally offers me the full view of her back.

Leaning against the wall, I take off my belt, let my pants drop to the floor, and stroke my cock at the sight of her perfectly shaped ass and sexy legs.

The water runs rivulet from her hair down her back, and she tilts her face up towards the water to rinse off the soap on her face. I catch sight of her pink tits, and a haze fills my vision. All I think about at this moment is filling her up with my dick and feeling her walls squeeze hard around me.

I don’t wait for her to turn off the shower before taking the initiative.

Stepping into the shower, the water seeps into my shirt as I mold her back against my front and bury my face in the crook of her neck. She freezes and then relaxes in my touch. I expect her to protest, push me away, and yell about how much of an asshole I am, but she doesn’t do any of those things, and I take it as a cue to believe she craves this moment as much as I do.

She smells clean and exotic, like soap and coconut shampoo. I suck the water on her nape, biting down lightly on the golden skin under her ear, and she sighs.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I bring her even closer, and close a hand around her breast. I test the weight of each and pinch her perky tits. Desire blinds me, my body quakes, and my cock strains painfully between my legs. How is it possible for one woman to command my entire attention this way? She doesn’t even know, but she’s somehow gotten me wrapped around her tiny fingers.

She shudders against me, and I slip a hand between her legs, lifting my finger to her core.

I clench my teeth, feeling the blood thrum in my ears when I stroke her clit.

Vivienne arches into me, pressing her ass hard into my hand. Her knees buckle, and her hands fly to the wall to grasp for support.

I add another finger and squeeze into her tight pussy.

“ Antonio ...” Her eyelids flutter shut. Hearing my name pour from her lips ignites a fire in my groin, burning, consuming, until I’m not thinking straight.

“That’s it, call my name, gattina .”

My nails dig into her hips, and I move my fingers in and out of her. I am almost fucking shaking when her moans grow louder, echoing off the bathroom walls, hitting my ears like they’re begging for more.

Her walls clamp down on my fingers, squeezing tighter, and I know she’s close, but I take my fingers out, and she whines in protest.

Vivienne flips around, green eyes clouded with desire, and before I mumble a word, she drags my lips to hers and rips my shirt open. I lift her legs off the wet tiles, and she feasts my hair with her fingers.

When I thrust into her, she cries into my mouth, writhing in pain. I’d gone in too hard, too quick. But she doesn’t tell me to stop. So, I kiss her gently, pull out of her, and slide back in, slow enough to soothe the sting.

I shouldn’t care that I physically hurt her, but I do.

And I fuck her slowly, peppering her neck with tender kisses I didn’t know I was capable of giving. She shuts her eyes, parts her lips, and squeezes me hard when her orgasm hits like a storm.

I don’t remember what I mumble in Italian, or what she leans to whisper into my ear, but her beautiful face is all I see when I explode and come inside her.