Chapter 29
29
MICHAEL
It’s late as fuck when I finally drag my exhausted ass home, and except for the front lights, the rest of the house is dark. I roll my neck, trying to work out the crick as I walk into the foyer.
I start towards the stairs, my body craving the oblivion of sleep—until my parched throat protests. Fuck it . I pivot towards the living room instead, navigating through the darkness with the muscle memory of a man who knows every inch of this house. But just as my hand closes over the kitchen door handle, a flood of light suddenly blasts through the room.
I squint, momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, going from pitch black to what feels like a goddamn spotlight.
It takes a couple of seconds for my vision to adjust, but I immediately make out the silhouette by the light switch. My hand goes to the handle of my gun, instincts kicking in—but even though I can’t see all that well yet, I recognize those curves, that stance…
It’s my wife.
I let go of the weapon’s grip and blink the last of the blurriness away. And yep, it’s my wife alright. She’s standing by the wall, arms crossed, glowering at me.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she demands.
I stare at her uncomprehendingly. What is this? “What do you mean, what time is it?” But I can’t even bring myself to work up a temper. Not after what I just found out. Her entire life, she believed she lost her parents in a tragic accident. When the truth is that her uncle—the man who took her in, who raised her—was the one who had them murdered.
What must she have gone through at his hands? How much had she suffered, living under the roof of the man who stole everything from her? Especially knowing he tried to have her killed as well?
The weight of it crushes something in my chest.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m crossing the room, my palm cradling the back of her head, drawing her into me. My other hand locks around her waist like an anchor. My poor love. She has me now, and I’m never letting her go.
Nobody will ever dare hurt her again.
“Michael?” Her voice is muffled against my chest. “Is something wrong?”
“Can’t I just hug my beautiful wife?” The emotion in my voice betrays me, something raw and unfamiliar scraping my throat. I clear it quickly, adjusting my stance to press my lips against her hair, inhaling the scent that’s become my own personal addiction.
But then she stiffens in my arms and steps back, shoving at my chest violently. I raise a brow at the sudden shift, but before I can say a word, she rips into me.
“Where the hell have you been, Michael? Why is another woman’s perfume clinging to you? Were you with some bitch?”
My second brow joins the first at the lividness on her face and the venom in her voice. Then—oh.
She’s jealous. Actually fucking jealous.
Finally .
The realization sends a heady rush of satisfaction through my veins. She has to give a shit about me to be this pissed.
“Are you even listening to me? Why the fuck are you smiling, you bastard?” Her palm connects with my chest again, the sting of it delicious. “You can’t keep having unprotected sex with me if you’re just going to go out and fuck some sluts out there.”
Whatever amusement I had evaporates. My grip closes around her wrist, keeping her palm pressed against my chest. “You think I have space in my head for other women when you’ve occupied it so completely? Yes, work took me to a club tonight. Yes, women were there. Yes, some of them tried throwing themselves at me. Maybe their perfumes rubbed off on me. But do you know what I felt?” My grip tightens. “ Irritation .”
She blinks up at me, lips parting in surprise at my outburst. Hell, I’ve surprised even myself with the raw honesty pouring out. But I won’t let her use our sex life as a weapon against me when I’ve done nothing wrong. I tighten my hold on her wrist more, ignoring her wince—needing her to feel some pain. To make damn sure she’s paying attention.
“You’ve had me all tied up in knots ever since I saw your fucking picture. Then I met you, and suddenly I barely have space for myself in my own damn head. All I think about is you. When next I can be with you. What you’ll say. How to make you smile—because when you do, you look at me with that softness in your eyes, and I?—”
Fuck. I don’t even know how to finish that sentence.
“I fucking threatened a woman with my gun tonight for daring to come close to me—because I was so goddamn irritated she wasn’t you .”
Her breath hitches.
The words pour out, unstoppable now. “And the worst part? No matter what I do, you keep holding me at arm’s length. You refuse to let me in, really let me in.” My chest heaves as I stare down at her. At the emotions swirling in those amber eyes.
“Michael…” she breathes, digging her fingers into my chest. My name sounds different on her lips now—softer, heavier. Like it means something more. Then, slowly, her free hand comes up, cradling my face.
The anger eases out of me, but something just as intense takes its hold as I realize just how much I’ve revealed. I never— never —let my emotions get the best of me. Yet she’s got me unraveled in just a few short weeks. “Fuck.” I start to spin around, to retreat behind my walls, but she stops me.
“Do you realize how crazy you sound?” she asks, her voice impossibly gentle as her thumb traces my brow, playing with the ring there. “We just met. You can’t feel so much for me in so little time.”
I hold her gaze. “Then I guess I really am crazy. Crazy for you . And I’m going to do everything in my power to own you completely and make you half as insane for me as I am for you.”
“Michael, I–I–” Words fail her, eyes searching mine like she’s trying to find something. Then she rises onto her toes, tilting her head up towards me.
My heart slams against my ribs when I realize her intent. She’s going to kiss me. And this time, on the lips.
I could lean down, make it easier for her, but there’s something sacred in watching her reach for me of her own volition. This is the first time she’s initiating, and I want it to be all her.
When our lips finally connect, a sigh of relief escapes me like a prayer answered. Her lips move over mine, soft and uncertain at first.
I let her take the lead, my hand only coming up to rest at her waist, barely touching, as if she might spook and run.
But when she grins into the kiss and deepens it, her tongue stroking the depth of my mouth, that’s it. My restraint snaps like a live wire. I seize control, plunging my fingers into her hair as I devour greedily, tilting her head just so.
She moans into my mouth, and goddammit—just like that, my semi I’ve been fighting turns into a full-blown erection that grates on my nerves. My hands reluctantly abandon her luscious hair to trail down the elegant curve of her spine. She shudders into me, and I cup her ass, pulling her flush against my cock.
Feel what you do to me. Feel how much I want you.
“Michael,” she gasps, breaking the kiss just enough to speak. “The cameras. Who watches them?”
Fuck .
My men might not live in the compound with us, but they have access to the feeds and, in fact, work in shifts to monitor them, making sure everything is in order.
No way in hell I’m sharing this moment with any of those bastards.
I tear my mouth away from hers, chest heaving as I lift her up into my arms, wrists locked beneath her ass. She squeals in surprise, clutching onto my neck, her eyes twinkling with desire.
With her wrapped around me, I secure my grip and I carry her out of the living room, up the stairs, and into our room. Only when the door closes behind us do I let her go, making damn sure my cock drags across her body on the way down.
By the time her feet touch the floor, she’s trembling slightly, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow pants. Her pupils have dilated so wide that only a thin ring of amber remains.
I watch her for several long moments as unfamiliar emotions crash over me in relentless waves. Is this what it feels like to have a wife, or is it just her that’s making me feel all these things?
She shifts nervously under my scrutiny. “What?”
I don’t answer. I can’t speak past the sweet ache in my chest and the lump in my throat. So I do the only thing I can—I dip my head and capture her lips hungrily, pouring every unspoken feeling into the kiss.
She kisses me back just as hard—if not harder—and I groan as pleasure lances through me, my fingers sinking into her hair. Keeping our lips fused, I walk her backward towards the bed. Her feet fumble, tangling together like a newborn fawn’s, and a breath of affectionate amusement bubbles up unexpectedly. Adorable.
I chuckle as I break the kiss and turn her around, pressing her back to my chest so she can see as I guide her. My hands can’t stay still, roaming all over her.
Caressing her neck, tangling in her hair, tracing her lips.
Finally, we reach the foot of the bed, and with a press of my palm to her lower spine, I push her forward. She lands face-first with a soft ‘oof’ before scrambling to flip onto her back, and then she’s staring up at me with eyes made of liquid gold.
Fuck me, she’s so hot. So goddamn gorgeous it physically hurts to look at her.
My breath catches, and I can only stare in entranced silence.
She sits up, impatience written in every line of her body, and scoots towards me. “What are you doing?” Her fingers hook into my belt, tugging me closer until I’m standing between her spread thighs.
I let her unbuckle me, my fingers diving into her hair as she unzips my pants and pushes them down. The material pools at my feet, and I shrug out of my jacket, my pulse hammering in anticipation.
I’m unbuttoning my shirt when she cups my erection through my underwear and presses her face against the bulge of my cock, inhaling deeply. Jesus fucking Christ . My spine liquefies, and I bow towards her with a guttural groan that doesn’t sound human even to my own ears.
Fuck, she’s becoming as unhinged as I am.
I love it.
Her hands slip into the waistband of my underwear and pull it down. I move back just long enough to kick them off before I’m between her thighs again, my cock standing proudly at attention.
She wraps her fingers around my thick girth, her touch firm, teasing. Then, with a slow, wicked grin, she flicks her index finger over the barbell piercing the head of my cock.
Shocks of pleasure-pain zap through my being, my body tingling from head to toe. Then, before I can react—before I can even fucking think—she leans in and swallows me whole. The sudden envelopment of my sensitive flesh has my head snapping back and a shout ripping from my lungs.
“Gianna—” Her name barely makes it past my lips before my control shatters.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I yank back before I explode in her mouth, but her suction is so intense there’s a wet ‘pop’ as my cock slips free.
“Michael,” she complains breathlessly, blinking up at me.
“Can’t waste my cum,” I rasp, my voice wrecked. “Need it inside you.”
I shove her onto her back without finesse, too desperate to care. She’s still trying to crawl back on the bed when I attack the buttons of her slacks, my fingers suddenly clumsy and frantic. “Fucking hell,” I growl, finally getting a grip on the damn thing and yanking the fabric down her legs, panties and all.
My mouth waters at the wet, pink sheath waiting for me. “Look at your pretty cunt, amore . All mine.” I’m barely done talking before I dive into her, kissing and sucking right over her hole.
She screams, bucking with such force I’m nearly thrown off. I slam a hand down on her abdomen, pinning her to the bed as I feast on her without mercy. No teasing, no slow buildup—just plain desperation to get her ready for my hard cock.
Her fingers twist in my hair, pain blooming across my scalp as gibberish spills from her lips in moaned-out, broken syllables. Her knees press up on either side of me, toes curling into the sheets. When she comes, it’s glorious , and I lap it all up greedily until I can’t hold off myself another second.
She’s still in the throes when I rise up to my knees and thrust into her, yelling at how tightly she grips me and how her muscles contract convulsively around me. My eyes fly open—when did I close them?—just in time to see hers flutter open too.
As I lose myself in those pretty eyes, a strange calm washes over me, and the biting desperation recedes a little. It’s like now that I’m inside her, all the maddening urges are muted, replaced by something deeper. I cup her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “ Sei la ragazza più bella del mondo e sono contento di averti rapita e di averti sposato prima che chiunque altro possa. Ora sei mia, Gianna. Per sempre .”
You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and I’m glad I snatched you up and married you before anyone else could. You’re mine now, Gianna. Forever.
“Michael…” She raises her own hand to my face, and I lean down to kiss her, languidly pulling out and thrusting back into her. A strangled moan tears from her throat as her head falls back against the bed, effectively breaking the kiss. Her hand slips from my face to grip the sheets on either side of her head like she needs something to hold on to.
Almost compulsively, I reach for her and link our fingers together, holding on to her tightly as, for the first time in my life, I’m not just fucking a woman.
I’m making love to her.
And it’s sweeter than anything I’ve ever felt.
I kiss all over her neck, sucking her earlobe into my mouth as my pleasure racks up, higher and higher. I twist my hips, grinding against that spot that makes her eyes roll back, squeezing her fingers harder as her cunt almost strangles my cock. She cums, moaning my name so sweetly it wrecks me.
I’m right behind her, teeth sinking into the fading mark on her neck as I paint her womb with my cum—and hopefully, my child.