33. Ravenna
Ravenna
“ E nough about me and my complaining about Nik,” Sophia says. “How’s Elena doing? Is she feeling any better since you last saw her in Italy? She’ll be at my wedding, won’t she?”
“I’m sure she’ll be there. She’s still visiting family in Italy and trying to figure out what she wants in life. Overall, I think she’s feeling better.” I take a sip of my Earl Grey latte.
In truth, to my knowledge, she hasn’t left our great aunt’s house for any length of time. Though she does seem less depressed these days when we chat on the phone.
“Lucky girl,” Ginevra sips her tea, her blond curls framing her face. “I wish I could go live with family in Italy and do whatever I want with my life.”
Arianna chides her, “It’s not like she’s partying all the time, Gin. She’s recovering from the loss of her parents. She’s grieving in Italy, not having fun.”
Guilt slithers through my stomach. Elena has been grieving. While I’ve been having the time of my life with Cian this past year. My parents' deaths feel like they happened years ago instead of months.
Sophia reaches across the table where we’re sitting in a coffee shop on the Upper East Side. “How are you doing with it all? You always seem so pulled together, I sometimes forget that you lost your parents too.”
“I’m okay. I think we all grieve in our own ways and my sister and I are very different people. I’ve really been occupying myself with this renovation.”
“Oh, that’s right. How’s it going?” Arianna leans forward, her expression expectant.
I’m more than happy to change the subject.
Since Cian gave me the go-ahead to find us a forever home, we spent the rest of the summer viewing places all over Upper Manhattan.
We finally settled on a gorgeous old brownstone in desperate need of repair.
The up side being that we can renovate it to be perfect for us and our lifestyle.
As well as our future family. So that’s what we’re doing.
“That designer Aunt Rosa recommended is a miracle worker. We just heard back from the city and our design plans have been approved. Construction starts next week. I’m so excited to finally see some progress. The sooner we get started, the sooner the work will be done and we can move in.”
“I think it’s smart not to live there while construction is happening,” Gin says. “It’s so loud and dusty. Plus all those strangers going in and out of your house.” She pulls a face.
“I completely agree.” Fishing my phone from my purse, I announce, “I wanted to show you all some photos. The designer texted me some mood boards this morning. I’d like your opinions.”
We go down the interior design rabbit hole for the next hour.
I’m glad they want to be part of the process since I value their feedback.
Especially Arianna’s. She has an amazing eye for design.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to go into some type of work that involves aesthetics.
If her future husband will let her work.
That’s not always a guarantee in our world.
When I’m finished visiting with my cousins, a grouchy Wolfe drives me back home. Every time I have to go somewhere, he’s my assigned driver and bodyguard, or as he refers to it babysitter , which is way below his pay grade. But he’s the only one Cian trusts enough to leave him alone with me.
With the drive being over an hour each way, he’s always exceptionally grumpy when we go into the city from the compound. He should be much happier once I live closer to my cousins.
“Fucking asshole, where’d you learn how to drive!” he shouts out the window, flipping off a driver at the busy intersection.
Groaning, I do my best to ignore him. He’s never any fun when he’s in one of his moods. Which means he’s never any fun.
“This is why I hate driving in the city,” he grumbles. “Too many fucking people everywhere.”
That’s Cian’s lament too. I’m still shocked at how well my husband managed to tour Rome and all the crowds on our honeymoon, especially during the summer season.
The fact that he wants to move into the city where the houses are jammed together, with all the hustle and bustle, still has me in a state of shock.
He really has changed since we’ve been married.
Maybe Wolfe could use a woman in his life to cheer him up. Some men need a partner to make them happy. He’s certainly not enjoying life as a bachelor.
I glance up at the rearview mirror. “Wolfe, do you have a girlfriend?”
His gaze snaps to mine in the reflective glass. “What the hell kind of question is that? You’re not looking to set me up with one of your Italian cousins are you?”
I snicker. “Of course not. You’re much too old for any of them.”
He scowls, grumbling under his breath.
“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” I lean forward.
“I said , I’m in my forties, that’s hardly ancient.”
“True,” I agree with him. “So why don’t you have a girlfriend or a wife? Or even… a boyfriend? If that’s your preference.”
I don’t know what it is about Wolfe, but I absolutely love getting a rise out of him—when I’m not busy avoiding his sour moods. If I’m not careful it might turn into a hobby. He’s much too easy to provoke, and I’m ninety percent sure he won’t murder me for annoying him.
He scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m too damn busy to have a woman in my life right now.”
“Cian’s just as busy and he’s married,” I point out.
“Yeah, well he didn’t have a choice, did he?”
Ouch .
“No, but he’s happy. Or haven’t you noticed?”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he mutters. “He’s so damn happy I have to chain him to his desk to get any work done. Metaphorically speaking of course.”
“Is he more focused when I’m out of the house? Do you think that helps?” I’m asking because I’m genuinely curious.
Wolfe grunts and shakes his head. “Nope. He’s more agitated when you’re not home. All the men complain about it.”
“Really? I thought he’d be able to focus more without me around.”
“Nope. It’s a dangerous world out here. When you’re not at home, you’re not safe.”
“I’m perfectly safe with my bodyguard—you. Don’t you agree that we’re safe?”
His gaze scans the streets. “Anything can happen out here. You’re safe one minute, then dead the next. You’d do well to remember that, sorceress.”
I glance up again, surprised by his strange nickname for me. I can’t tell if it’s a type of endearment or an insult. Wolfe doesn’t exactly like me, so I assume the latter.
“You’re a ray of sunshine, you know that?”
“Just saying it like it is.”
“And managed to avoid my original question.” I lean further forward in my seat. “What’s the real reason you aren’t in a relationship since we both know the excuse of you’re too busy is bullshit.”
He glares into the rearview mirror, our gazes lock. “I was there when my mother became a widow. Then I lost my sister to this world’s darkness. I’ll never risk putting a woman through that, especially one that I claim to love.”
My lips part, forming an O .
Wolfe tears his gaze away, his jaw muscles tense. I settle back into my seat, silence hanging between us as I digest his words. I didn’t know he had a sister. What happened to her? How old was he when his father died?
So many questions that I know he won’t answer.
W ith the house renovations seeming to take an eternity, the holiday season and our one year wedding anniversary pass in the blink of an eye. We spend a few weeks packing, eager to move, but trying not to get ahead of ourselves.
Who knew the permit process would take months ? Then all the inspections, the delays, the bribes that had to grease a few wheels. Sourcing everything I wanted, design decisions… At one point, I wanted to scream, cry, tear my hair out. But we made it through.
Then one day I wake up, it’s February, and our move in day.
I’ll admit, I am not really going to miss the compound. This step forward in our relationship feels like a piece, one I didn’t even know was missing, has finally fallen into place. We have our perfect home in the city. This is the start of our true married life together.
First marriage. Then a home. Next a family.
The renovated brownstone displays the perfect mix of old and new.
We have a primary suite with two dressing rooms, and an en suite bathroom.
A smaller attached room reserved for a future nursery.
It can be accessed from our room as well as from the hallway.
A guest room, and several other bedrooms to accommodate us as our family grows.
On the ground floor, Cian has his home office. We’ve also created a library, complete with a fireplace and two stories of bookcases. Very similar to the library at the compound, but now he won’t have to keep the door locked to keep it private.
Setting up a new household comes with the need for staff. We’ve hired a chef, housekeeper, and cleaning service. All with ties to the Irish mob, of course. They may as well be extended family.
The place only comes with a two-car garage in back, so Cian has had to pare down his collection of cars, leaving several of them at the compound.
One space is taken by the town car I ride in on a regular basis, the other spot houses Cian’s vehicle de jour.
Sometimes his motorcycle, other times a sports car or an SUV. The man loves his cars.
We arrive at the house as soon as the moving and decorating crews have finished. Cian sweeps me into his arms, as if I weigh nothing at all, and carries me over the threshold.
“Welcome home,” he says, taking in the grand entrance.
I kiss him. “What should we do first in our new home?”
“Bless it, of course.” He carries me up the stairs to our bedroom. Tonight will be our first time sleeping here. He sets me on my feet. “Take hold of that bed post.”
“Why? What are you going to do?” My pulse flutters in anticipation.
He flips open his switchblade, his grin wide. “Let’s have some fun. Like old times.”
“Mr. O’Rourke, if you ruin this dress, you’ll owe me ten new ones.”
His smile widens, crinkling his eyes. “They’re already hanging in your closet. Now do as you’re told, broc meala .”
I playfully huff, but turn around and wrap my hands around the bed’s corner post. Cian wastes no time cutting my dress from my body, just as he did on our wedding night. The poor fabric’s sliced and torn, until I’m left in only my underwear and heels.
He palms my ass cheeks, a sound of appreciation rumbles in his chest. Then he does something he’s never done before.
The cold edge of the blade scrapes along my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
He skims it up my sides, follows the curve of my breast, he teases my nipple with the unforgiving steel.
I gasp. My nipple pebbles.
Cian nips at my throat. “Beg for me, baby. You know how I like it.”
A whimper escapes my lips. He teases the other nipple with his blade. His free hand drags my panties down my thighs, then his fingers draw lazy circles around my clit. I’m so turned on that a shudder rattles through my body.
“Please,” I murmur.
“Tell me what you want.”
Slowly, he drags his blade down my stomach. Its blunt edge replaces his fingers, teasing my clit. The sensation, tinged with danger, has me rolling my hips, silently demanding more.
“Please,” I say again. “Please make me come. I’m begging you, husband. I need you.”
He grunts with approval. “Beg me on your knees.”
Carefully, so as not to cut myself, I drop to my knees. He’s still fully clothed, so I unbuckle his belt and drag down his zipper. Freeing his erection, I hold his heavy cock in my hands, and gaze up at him through my lashes.
“I need you,” I say.
“Show me how much you want it.”
Maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth wide and suck on the head of his dick like it’s my favorite hard candy. He hisses when I flick my tongue. Carefully, with intention, I take in every inch of him.
His body shivers, his blue eyes darken with lust. When I have him all the way down my throat, I hum.
“Jesus!” Cian pulls me off of him. I hide my triumphant smile as he drops to his knees, and spins me around so I’m facing the bed again. I love it when he loses control like this. Love that I can drive him wild with desire.
From behind, he lines himself up and presses inside my pussy. I push back against his cock. He curses under his breath, and I grin—until I feel the cold steel of his blade slide between my legs.
Oh god. He works my clit with his knife.
Cian fucks me with punishing thrusts until my thighs quiver and an explosive orgasm rips through my body. I hold onto that corner post for dear life because he’s far from finished with me.
Angling my head back so I can see his face, he removes the blade from my clit. With deft swipes of his tongue he licks the knife clean.
The erotic, unhinged sight sends me over the edge again, and I come on his cock.
I scream his name as he fucks me through this orgasm before finally pumping me full of his cum.
Chests heaving, we collapse in a sweaty mess, both of us spent.
Easing his cock out of my pussy, he scoops me into his arms and settles onto the bed. He cradles me close, where I fit perfectly under his arm. I rest my arm across his expansive chest.
This is pure bliss.
We doze for a while. Content in each other’s company. Happy in our new house. This place is already worth the wait. I sense it in my bones, it feels like home .
Cian eventually breaks the silence. “You should know, I have to go out of town next Saturday.”
I glance up at him. I wish we could stay in our little space, wrapped up in each other forever, but the outside world always seems to demand attention.
I sigh. “But that’s Sophia’s engagement party.”
“I’m so sorry, broc meala , I forgot to put that on my calendar. I can move the meeting.”
“Is it important?”
“I’m meeting with a supplier in Florida, but I can reschedule.”
“Is this the new supplier you’ve been trying to find a time to meet with for the past two months?
” I prop myself up on one elbow, and he nods.
“Then don’t cancel. It’s fine. Sophia’s party will be small.
Just family and close friends. There’s no real reason for us to go together.
However, the wedding is a different story. You have to come with me to that.”
He smiles up at me. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it.” He flips me over, peppering open mouth kisses down my chest, across my ribs, and on my hip bone. When he glances up at me, I part my legs, giving him access to what he wants. A wolfish grin on his lips, he dives in.
Oh dear God, this man knows how to use his tongue.