Chapter 50
CARMELA
I go to bed alone again and wake to the sensation of someone sliding in behind me.
For a split second, I’m back in my old bed, and although Ettore has never once gotten into bed with any level of consideration for my sleeping, my foggy brain thinks it’s him.
Strong hands gather me close before I can lash out. “It’s me, Carmela.”
Hearing Dante’s voice—and smelling his familiar cologne—my racing heart calms. “You scared me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. There’s no easy way to wake you up… and you were in my bed.”
“The guest bed was uncomfortable,” I mumble. If I were honest, I would admit I hated leaving his arms to go there in the early hours of yesterday morning. I had a flashback earlier. Being in his bed, even alone, made me feel safer.
His chuckle is low and husky and throws me. “Yeah? Must be that pea I put under the mattress.”
“Pea?” I’m tired… and baffled.
“Had to make sure you were a real mafia princess.” His lips whisper against my throat.
My sleepy mind plays catch-up. I chuckle. “You used to read a lot of fairy tales, Dante?”
“I had a German tutor when I was young. She was an absolute dragon who force-fed me Hans Christian Anderson.”
“She sounds like a great tutor.”
“She was, apart from the fairy tales, which my father did not appreciate, and which were promptly curtailed.”
I smile, enjoying this insight into the younger version of Dante. His father was pretty laid back from what I remember, but, yeah, it’s different for the men and the women in our world. Then again, I can’t see that the fairy tales had much of a softening effect on Dante.
On second thoughts, fairytales can be pretty macabre. I’m surprised they’re not a staple of learning for impressionable future made men…
How would it be if we had a son or a daughter? Would Dante still adhere to the mindset of gender roles, or would he be more relaxed?
My stomach takes a slow dip at the thought of carrying his child. It fills me with a desperate kind of longing for something just out of reach.
“Can you tell me what’s been happening?”
“I’m helping Ettore to look for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“That’s pretty crazy.”
“It is,” he says dryly.
“What’s the end game? Where do we go from here?”
“The end game is we take down Ettore by whatever means is necessary. Does that trouble you?”
His question throws me for the second time in as many minutes.
“He killed—” I can’t even say it. I’m a married woman with a dangerous husband who’s on the warpath.
I’ve already reached a decision and made a plan, one I’m still working on implementing.
It’s dangerous, but the alternative frightens me more.
I want so hard to believe in Dante, to trust that what he seeks to do is possible. “I want him to pay with his life.”
“And he will, I promise you. Your father and Jessica are on lockdown at their home for their safety. At this stage, Ettore doesn’t know where the threat might come from, and it’s a good sign that he isn’t directing any suspicions or malice toward them.
I spoke to your father briefly, and while I was careful about what I said, I believe he understood that you were with me…
Now, no more questions. It’s late, you need to rest.” He kisses the side of my throat once more.
“In a moment of madness, I promised Christian I wouldn’t fuck you unless he was here. So you’re safe, in all ways.”
“You did?” That takes my thought train on an unexpected detour. “What about what I want?”
He groans and nips at my throat. “You want me to fuck you, baby? I’ll get him on a video call or something…”
Do I want him to fuck me?
Do I care about this promise?
I snort a laugh and, slipping out of his hold, swing my legs out of the bed. His eyes follow me into the bathroom before I shut the door.
“I promised Christian I wouldn’t fuck you unless he was here.”
I pace, asking myself how I feel about this development.
They’ve been talking about me, and I don’t hate that they have. Is this them saying they’re going to share me? That Christian wants to watch?
My mind tumbles back to the better part of Dante’s wedding day when he followed me up to my bedroom and fucked me there… Christian, casually sitting in the chair watching… asking him how I felt.
A hot tide rolls down my spine, and a savage contraction grips me low in my womb, bringing my pacing to a stop.
I want to laugh—I’m so confused.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. A small bandage on my arm covers the mark left by Cosmo. Outwardly, the rest of the scars are gone. It’s the internal ones that linger.
My eyes, though, look bright and alive in a way they haven’t in a long time.
He said he loved me.
Today, I accept that I love Dante. But I also love Christian.
What I first felt for Dante was infatuation, and if events had followed their expected path, it could easily have become love.
That never happened, and then Christian just swept in with his hate fucks, telling me to go ahead and slap him if I needed an outlet.
And really, he’s the furthest thing from stable boyfriend material, even if I were not married.
He’s always been just there when I needed him.
He’s nowhere near as insensitive as he pretends to be.
In his unique way, I know he cares.
I’ve fallen in love with him, dangerous quirks and all.
I fell in love with him first.
And now I’ve fallen in love with Dante, who snuggles me sweetly and then fucks me like a savage.
I’ve been broken. The pieces don’t fit together the way they used to, and I don’t believe they ever will. But maybe they don’t need to. Not while I’m here in the eye of the storm. This, whatever this is, has an end date, but so does life, and that doesn’t stop us from living in between.
I finish up in the bathroom and slip back into bed.
He immediately slides his arm around me from behind and settles his palm over my stomach. I like his hand there, the feeling of him behind me. I slept as far away from Ettore as was possible in the bed—the nights when he never came home were the best. But this is new and nice.
It feels like home…
His hand shifts, burrowing under my T-shirt—his T-shirt—causing flutters to break out across my skin.
He said he wouldn’t fuck me, and I sense he meant it, so I just enjoy it.
I don’t want to sleep. I want to store this moment up, but I’m also tired, and it pulls me down.
The sensation of being penetrated catches me on the cusp… something too small to be a cock is my first groggy thought.
“What are you?—”
“Was that whining I heard?”
His voice close to my ear, the realization that his finger is inside me—that he has ‘unplugged me’ yet again—revs up my sensory centers so fast it leaves me a little dizzy in the wake.
“Yes, you’re damn right—” My words end on a gasp as he pushes a second finger inside, bringing a sense of fullness and kicking off a pulse of arousal. “God! What are?—”
“Is that you asking for more?”
I clamp my mouth shut. My pussy performs a slow spasm that his low chuckle says he felt.
“That’s my filthy girl. So glad we got that lesson out of the way.”
A fresh wave of arousal slams into me. Domination . How I have come to crave it. His words, the way he does what he wants, are like an incendiary lighting up my core.
He said he wouldn’t fuck me. Is this him breaking his promise to Christian?
Only he’s not fucking me, is he, and maybe touching is allowed…
He begins to pump his fingers in and out slowly
My twitch is entirely involuntary.
“Ah, ah. The first rule is you take what you’re given.”
“I didn’t sign up for rules,” I say, fighting my body’s response, wondering if speaking at all breaks his rules or if I care either way.
“Neither did I, but I can’t fuck you, and my balls are blue merely by lying next to you. At the very least, you need to suffer too.”
“God, Dante, please don’t make me suffer.”
“That was definitely a whine.”
He pushes a third finger in. It’s too much, and his movements are slow out of necessity, but I also love the overfullness and the slight bite of discomfort.
I groan.
“You’re a wonder, Carmela.” He grinds his cock against my ass. “I want to fuck you so badly. But I guess I’m going to have to make do with getting you off.”
“I’m close.”
“I know.” He rubs the heel of his hand against my clit, keeping me stuffed full of his fingers.
Everything is pulsing with arousal down there. My breath catches, and tension invades me; I’m close. I could die for the taste of it. “I can’t come.”
“What makes you think I want you to come yet? Maybe I’ve changed my mind and decided to torment you instead?”
“Please!”
“Ah, the begging voice.” He sucks lightly against my throat, still rocking against my clit. “I think I like you like this, all needy and desperate. My perfect little captive that I can toy with all night.”
It’s too much and not enough. I cannot bear to hang here a moment longer.
He tightens his arms around me, almost like he senses I will try to break away.
I don’t remember when I stopped breathing, but all the air is trapped in my lungs.
A stuttering sob escapes my throat and sweat breaks out across my skin.
Relief and rapture engulf me as I pitch into spasmodic bliss. “Oh God.”
“Good girl.”
A big grin spreads across my face. He’s hard and pressed up against me. It would feel so nice if he were to slide inside me now. “You know Christian fucked me when you weren’t around?”
“Yeah, I did realize that. And yes, I made the promise anyway. I take it all back. You’re a bad girl, trying to lead me astray.”