Chapter Fifty-one
Ciro
T he faint buzz of Vida’s phone wakes me up, but before I can react, she’s already slowly wiggling out of my arms, so I let her.
“Yeah?” she says into the phone, her voice soft with so much sleep still laced in it.
Who’s disturbing my wife this early in the morning? It better not be Carmela! She had her all through the week. It’s finally my turn and I didn’t plan on sharing her today.
“I’ll be right down,” she whispers into the phone, already getting up.
I knew I should’ve sold my twin when we were ten.
I feel Vida’s gentle kiss on my forehead before she walks towards the door, and I wish I would’ve pulled her in and kissed her, then asked her to stay in bed with me a little longer. But here I am, already missing her in bed and hating how faint her scent is now.
We are going to see the house in a few weeks when everything is in order. I’m excited to have a place that is all our own so no one can disturb us, but I can’t help but be nervous. The house isn’t the main surprise, but I can’t tell her that now. I’m going to wait to see the look on her face when she sees it. I know it’ll bring me to my knees, and just the anticipation of it makes me nervous and excited at the same time.
“Baby?” I hear her voice call.
I quickly shake away my silly grin and pretend to be waking up as I turn to face her.
“Look who’s here,” she says with a smile, and my eyes move to the animal in her arms. Frosty. But this time it isn’t him. It’s his nephew? Grand-nephew? Who cares? The white as snow furball licks her hand with so much familiarity that if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s met her before today.
I can’t move, I want to, but I can’t. Yes, I’m excited, but something about watching him be so alive frightens me. I killed his uncle. Me! I took his life. How can I ever hold this beautiful thing, knowing that I couldn’t even keep mine alive?
“Ciro?” Vida calls, her eyes back on me with a glint of worry in them. As always, she sees right through me.
“I . . . I can’t, little chaos,” I manage to say.
I can see the knife, the blood, and hear the whimpers that came from Frosty’s mouth as I ended his life. I can see his blue eyes that resembled mine, and how the life left them at my feet. I can almost smell the rain from that day, the soil, and his blood.
Oh god no! I can’t imagine how he felt! He did nothing wrong.
“Yes you can,” she says with a soft smile on her face.
She can see me struggling, but I see no pity on her face or in her eyes. She knows exactly why I’m frozen, but she doesn’t even look like she’s thinking of the evil thing I’d done. She just looks at me like she sees me, truly sees me.
“This isn’t Frosty, Ciro, and what happened to Frosty wasn’t, and will never be, your fault.”
She takes a few steps towards the bed, and I want to move away from her, but I can’t. I fear myself on behalf of the white snowball that is now looking at me with the same blue eyes Frosty had.
“Vida . . . I . . .”
“Trust me?” she asks as she sits on the bed. Is that even a question? I trust her with my entire existence, that’s why my life is in her fucking hands.
“I do,” I manage to whisper.
“Give me your hand,” she says gently and I do without hesitation. “It’s okay.”
She looks at me with a softness I don’t know if I can ever get used to, and slowly, ever so gently, she places my palm on the creature’s body. The moment I feel his fast beating heart through his soft fur, I let out the breath I don’t realize I’m holding.
“He’s alive,” I whisper without realizing, the words meant for me, more than anyone else.
“He is,” she confirms, smiling at me and watching me finally move closer to her and the cutest puppy as he licks my hand too. His fur is soft, full, but soft and the wetness of his tongue is as cold as his eyes. As I look at him I can picture him running around in the new house we’re going to be living in.
“What are you going to name him?” she asks, giggling as I lift the furball onto my lap.
“Monarch,” I chuckle as he snuggles into my embrace.
“Monarch?” She raises a brow.
“That’s an unusual name,” she giggles.
“I know. It’s your favorite butterfly species. The Monarch butterfly? What’s it called?” I try to remember. “ Danaus plexippus ?”
Yes, I’ve been reading about butterflies because my wife loves them! Sue me!
“Ciro.” She grins widely, in complete surprise. “I think he likes Monarch, look at him.”
I turn my gaze back to the little fella who is now playing with the sheets, trying to get my feet through the sheets as I wiggle my toes. “I think he likes it too.”
She shakes her head at me as I pull her into my arms and bury my face against her neck. “Thank you, little chaos. For this.”
I can’t look at her. I can’t cry again, not in front of Monarch at least. “I love you more than life itself.”
She holds me lovingly while I compose myself and then kisses me so sweetly I could melt into the bed if she kept it up.
“I love you too, baby. Happy birthday, Ciro,” she whispers against my lips.
And with that, we fall onto the bed and start playing with the newest addition to our family.
Vida
After my long talk with Carmela, I realized just how much I’d miss living with her. Having her just downstairs, ready to listen to all of my rants and be there for her as she pours hers on me, has been amazing. I will miss it and everything that house has given me.
It will always be home, the place where we first lived together and fell in love, just like Matteo had said as we left this morning, but it doesn’t mean I won’t miss living there everyday.
It’s been a few weeks since he asked me to move in with him, and now I’m finally going to see the new place where I’ll be living with Ciro. The last time we lived alone, he locked me up and I punched his mouth after I slapped him. Good times!
“Why do I feel like you’re thinking something evil?” Ciro asks, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Maybe because I am,” I say with a shrug as I grin at him.
“Well, any evil that involves my cock filling you up, sign me up.”
I almost choke on my spit as those words come out of him so effortlessly, making me turn away from him immediately.
“We’re here,” he chuckles darkly, pulling up to a house, scratch that, a mansion.
Before I can recover from the emotions his words had brought, my breath whooshes out of me. The towering gates open for us to enter, revealing a stone pathway lined with identical trees. As we park in front of the house, I can only blink as my eyes trail up the large structure in front of me. It is definitely the kind of place you only see on Pinterest boards.
“Ciro . . .” I whisper as we get out of the car, turning to him. He stands there, one hand in his pocket, while the other arm holds Monarch. Both of them watch me, Monarch with his bright eyes and his tongue sticking out, while Ciro’s eyes are darker and he has that smug, heart melting smirk of his on his face.
This is the reaction he wants out of me. He always has a way of getting what he wants and here we are again . . . with him getting exactly that.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“Like isn’t even close to the way I feel about this,” I giggle, taking his hand and letting him lead the way.
The outside view doesn’t do enough justice to the inside. Every detail in the house screams elegance and warmth, and my favorite parts are the hints of us tucked into the corners. The house is filled with things that scream my style as well as his. He’s really thought of everything.
“Come on,” he says, putting Monarch down so he can run around, and pulling me further into the space. “I have something to show you.”
We climb the stairs, and I can’t help but smile as I watch Ciro walk with excitement, like he can’t wait to get to wherever he’s taking me. I’m fairly certain it’s the bedroom, our bedroom, but as he opens the door at the end of the hall, I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
A nursery.
“Ciro,” I laugh, spinning to face him, “don’t we need a baby to have a nursery?”
He steps closer, closing the space between us as he shoots me a mischievous smirk.
“I’ll make sure we fix that in every corner of this house, piccolo caos .”
This man!
My face goes red and I’m certain my freckles are on fire now.
“It’s beautiful.” I turn to the room, imagining the life I’ll have here, with this man who seems to want to make all of my dreams come true.
“This is the life I want with you, little chaos. Children running around, you being a mother and queen. I will give you everything you desire,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“You are everything I desire, Ciro.” I smile at him, sad I’m not staring into his blue eyes.
“I like when you’re not wearing these contacts,” I finally say.
“I know, baby.” He chuckles.
“Why do you wear them all day?”
“Aside from the story of Frosty, my blue eyes remind me of my mother.” He shrugs softly.
I’ve never brought up his mom with him. I knew most of her story from Matteo and Carmela, but with Ciro, a lot of what I’ve learned from him is nothing but the surface level stuff.
“What about her?” I urge, taking this little opportunity he’s given me.
“Grandfather wasn’t a big fan of hers, and while I lived with him, he made that clear. I don’t know, but staring at the mirror everyday and remembering my mother, also reminds me of him. How he saw them as a gateway to a soul he had condemned and how somehow, they still reminded him of the parts of me he could never truly ruin; Mother. You know, I . . .”
“I know.” I brush a kiss on his lips. “I may not know everything about grief, but I know you can’t block it out forever. You’re a part of your mom, and your grandfather too, you can’t simply forget one because you hate the other.”
I watch as my words sink in and emotions swarm through his eyes. “Vida, it’s not . . .”
“Easy? I know it’s not, baby. But you just gotta keep showing up, and consciously choose to remember one over the other. Forgive one and remember the other.” I smile, taking his hand in mine.
“You make everything seem so easy,” he says, shaking his head.
“If I did, falling in love with me wouldn’t have been so hard,” I joke, making his smile return.
“I don’t know when it happened, only that loving you became the one thing I didn’t have to think about. It just . . . exists. Like my heartbeat. Like pain. Even if I was dying, I’d still love you. It’s that simple. That cruel.”
This man.
I smile at him, feeling my lips express how my heart is feeling. “And you, I love you without trying, without thinking. Even if everything stops making sense, I would still know to love you. That’s how easy it is. Honestly, that’s how fucked I am.” I tease, watching him chuckle at me.
There is no me without him and just as much as he will do everything, everyday to make sure I never forget or doubt how much he loves me . . . needs me , I also, will spend everyday, making sure I do the same . . . for him.
“I love you. It’s maddening, you know that?” He kisses the bridge of my nose.
“I’m well aware,” I giggle .
“Come on,” he says again, pulling me gently out of the room before I can recover from that remark.
We move through hallways and rooms, spotting Monarch sniffing around every few minutes. Each room is more beautiful than the last, but nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for where he takes me next.
We step through beautiful doors into a library. A fucking library at the end of the house! The room stretches endlessly, with its high ceiling and rows upon rows of bookshelves filled with books. There are ladders on rails, a cozy corner with armchairs and blankets, a grand table at the center, and warm lights twinkling overhead like stars. It is beyond beautiful.
I step inside with my jaw open wide and my fingers trembling as I reach out to touch the nearest shelf.
“Ciro . . .”
I turn slowly, taking it all in. I’ve been to bookstores, libraries, and even dreamt of them, but this? This is beyond anything I could fathom.
“This is too much. This is . . . oh my God, Ciro.” I can’t even find the right words or the right things to say. This room is a book girl’s dream.
“I sorted everything for you. From your light romance to your dark romance, from humor to horror. Everything’s color-stacked too.” He points to one section, sounding like he’s giving a lecture on a topic he knows like the back of his hand. “And those are your hardcovers over there.”
I turn around to face him after walking around, finding him standing in the doorway, watching me with a smile and a glint of awe in his eyes, like I am the masterpiece in the room.
“How . . .? Why?” I manage to breathe out, trying to hold back both my tears and screams of excitement.
“Because . . .” he starts, pulling me to him and kissing my neck, “I would do anything for you, little chaos. That includes making you come on me and building you your dream library.”
I could cry.
Instead, I laugh through my shock, spinning back to the bookshelves and letting my hands trail over the spines of stories I am already dying to explore. This is mine and every detail is perfect. Every single thing about this house makes me fall in love with this man, and I loved it!
“Thank you,” I whisper, facing him again.
“You’re welcome, baby.” His lips brush my temple as his hot breath grazes my skin.
I will never stop falling in love with this man. I can’t, even if I try. He’s the air I breathe, he is life, he is what living is all about.
I turn to the red couch at the corner, admiring how perfectly it complements the room.
“I can’t wait to lie on this,” I say, smiling.
Ciro laughs like he’s surprised that this is what I’m thinking about. “Then test it out, little chaos.”
“I think I have a better idea on how to do that.” I grin at him.
“What idea?” He arches brow at me, curiously staring at me.
I take a step closer, grabbing him by his tie before tugging him toward the couch.
“Lie down for me,” I murmur, trying my best to keep my voice stern.
“What are you up to?” he asks in a low growl that sends shivers through my body.
I take in a deep breath, pulling his tie and making sure our faces are just inches apart.
“Be a good boy for me baby and just lie down.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replies and I swear, being called that makes a bucket full of my wetness pour out of me.
As he finally lies down, his eyes glued to mine, he watches and waits for my next move. I pull my dress up to my waist, before pushing my panties down my legs. I watch how his eyes change from surprise to lust, with a need to have me.
I slowly climb onto the couch, steadying myself on his lap, before reaching for his belt buckle.
“Wait,” he says as his hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. “Sit on my face.”
“What?” I ask, blinking at him.
Definitely not the path I was taking.
“Sit on my face, little chaos,” he repeats, his tone firm.
“Ciro.” I laugh. “You won’t be able to breathe.”
I might not look it, but I know what I weigh and sitting on his face isn’t the best plan.
“Breathing is the least of my worries, baby,” he interrupts, his hand tightening around my wrist. The way he looks at me, with longing for me to obey and do what he wants, sends waves of desire straight between my thighs. “If I die, then so be it. Sit on my face, and let me drown in you.”
This fucking man! He will be my undoing.
“Are you sure?” I ask, still hesitating. My heart is now threatening to beat out of my chest. I want to do it, I’ve read about it and it’s always been something I’ve wanted to try, but . . .
“Baby,” his desperate voice brings me out of my thoughts. “My death will be history because no one has ever died like me, with your pussy on my face and you suffocating me.”
“You always know what to say, huh?” I ask, shaking my head.
“I do! Now, stop wasting time and let me worship your essence.”
His words, his gaze, and everything about him shatters any hesitation I have left. Slowly, I climb up his body, placing my knees on either side of his head. I hover over him, unsure for a split second if I can do this, but his hands grip my hips firmly, pulling me down. The second my heat touches his mouth, I black out.
His tongue drags up my folds with a hunger that makes me tremble.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my fingers gripping the back of the couch for balance.
Ciro groans against me, the vibration and the feel of his hot breath on me makes me cry out. His hands guide my hips, forcing me to grind down against his mouth. Every swipe of his tongue drags out the animal in me, every moan that escapes my mouth grows louder without shame.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, going back in to suck my clit. “You’re sweet, baby. So fucking sweet.”
He continues his assault, flicking and sucking my clit, folds, juices; every single thing I have down there, he takes it all into his mouth.
I move without thinking, rolling my hips to meet his tongue. He’s relentless, eating me up like he has waited all his life for this moment.
My breath comes in shallow gasps as I try to hold back the sounds spilling from my lips, but he doesn’t make it easy. His tongue presses harder, deeper, swirling against my most sensitive spot.
“God, Ciro!” I cry out, unable to hold back.
His grip on my hips tightens as he groans again. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. Let me taste every part of you.”
“Fucking please! Yes, yes, yes! Please,” I scream, my hips moving faster as his tongue fucks my pussy. I’ve forgotten already how minutes ago I begged him not to let me sit on him. Now, I couldn’t care less. His tongue in my pussy feels like heaven and fuck! Who would want to leave heaven?
I grind down harder, the heat of his mouth making me scream louder. My thighs shake as I begin to come, yet his tongue doesn’t back down. It’s like it knows I’m there. It moves in harder, his lips adding to the mix, and the way he sucks then plunges into my wetness while forcing my cum into his mouth . . .
“Fuck! Ciro! Fuck! Yes!” I scream and moan, but he doesn’t stop. He holds me here, his tongue licking every drop of my release as his groans vibrate my pussy walls.
“Shit,” I curse, falling forward, breathless and trembling. When he finally lets me go, his lips and chin are shining with all the wetness around it.
“You’ve turned me into an addict, little chaos.” He smirks up at me with pure satisfaction glowing in his eyes.
“I’m not a drug,” I giggle, still trying to catch my breath.
“No, amore. ” He grabs my butt. “ Tu stai meglio .”
“What does that mean?” I arch a brow at me
He smirks, brushing his lips against my neck. “Means you’re mine.” He shrugs and I know he’s lying.