Epilogue
EPILOGUE
KATERINA
FIVE WEEKS LATER…
W hile I’m beginning to enjoy my first real time off in… my entire adult life, there’s only so long I can be idle for. After ten days in hospital, and weeks recuperating, I’m going more than a little stir crazy. The only thing that’s keeping me sane is the constant stream of visitors.
I didn’t honestly appreciate that there were so many people in my life who would go out of their way to be there for me when I needed them. There isn’t a day that’s passed where there hasn’t been someone to keep me company or deliver something I need. It’s made me think about what I want going forward. And returning to a life divided into two worlds seems more and more untenable .
Nearly every Cosa Nostra member I’ve helped or healed over the years has dropped by, including half of the capos and on occasion the don. It’s been surreal to have Aurora Bianchi stopping by to chat. We’ve been discussing ideas for the future and how I might be able to help her set up a private clinic that’s more exclusive to the Cosa Nostra.
Danny has been visiting too, as often as his clunker of a car will let him. Turns out he nearly missed the most exciting thing ever to happen at St Joseph’s because he was stranded on the side of the freeway. He’s been keeping me up to date on the hospital gossip and I’ve been discovering that we make far better friends than we did dates.
I had a call with the hospital administration this morning, and I’m still reeling from it. It’s not like I intended to resign, but the minute they started talking about how I was integral to the smooth running of my department and a key part of their vision for the future of the hospital, I understood that the pencil pushers on the screen viewed me as a commodity and not a person. The more they waffled on, the less I wanted to be the Head of General Surgery at St Joseph’s Hospital.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. I wouldn’t trade being a doctor for the world. Not only am I fucking good at it, but I worked damn hard for it. It’s just that the more time I spend surrounded by the people who truly care about me, the more I know that being Doc Em to the Bianchis means far more to me than being Doctor Katerina Mancini for everyone else .
The more I think about my decision, the happier I am.
I just need to figure out what I want to do now.
I spent the afternoon brainstorming ideas for what the hell I was going to do if I wasn’t going back to St Joseph’s while also streaming the pilot episode of every show I’d missed in the last decade and deciding that, barring a few notable exceptions, I wasn’t missing much.
Doodling on my note pad I don’t notice Stefano coming into the room until he leans over the back of the sofa and kisses the top of my head, scaring me half to death and making me jump enough for the notebook to clatter to the floor.
“Sorry, baby girl. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, picking it up and handing it back. His smile is warm and lights something up inside me. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing that dimple pop every evening when he comes home to me.
“Missed you, vecchietto ,” I practically purr as I reach up and grip the buttons of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.
“Missed you too.” He beams, crouching beside me and resting on his heels. “Give me a minute to get changed and I’ll order us some dinner. I’ve been looking forward to curling up with you all day.”
“Rough day?” I ask as I cup his face and stroke my thumb over his cheek .
“Yes, and no. Long, but it always feels longer when I’m away from you.”
“Hurry back,” I call after him, but as soon as I hear the shower start above me, I kick off my blanket and sneak upstairs.
I know I’m still recovering, but I’ve waited long enough, and a girl has needs. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times either my doctor or I tell him it’s perfectly safe to have sex, he still won’t fuck me. I even got a doctor’s note saying that as long as we avoid positions where I’d bear weight on my arms or chest, we’d be fine. Still nothing.
So now I’m taking the matter into my own hands.
As I enter our bedroom, I strip off. Carefully. Shucking down my sweatpants and underwear and kicking them off before—somewhat more gingerly—removing my hoodie. While I’m healing well it’s still a little tender. I plan to exist in a sports bra or no bra universe for the foreseeable future.
I hurry to my bedside table when the shower shuts off, grabbing my favourite little toy, and climbing onto the mattress, walking on my knees to the end of the bed.
I smile when I push the button and the toy bursts to life, humming out its familiar little pulsations. Of all the toys I have, the one that gets me off the hardest and fastest is this little suction device. There’s a reason it’s the number one best-selling clitoral vibrator.
Bringing the ring of soft silicone to my body, I trail it down to the apex of my thighs, moaning as the halo seals around my clit and the pressure of the suction starts to fluctuate. I don’t know why it works so freaking well, I just know that every other clitoral toy I own only gets dug out of the drawer if the batteries in this one die.
The smile on my face broadens as a towel-clad Stefano emerges from the walk-in closet, stopping mid hair tousle to rake his eyes over my body.
“What do you think you’re doing, micetta ?” Any authority he’s managed to inject into his words is completely undermined when he clenches his jaw as if he’s fighting to stifle a groan.
“If you won’t play with me, then a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. You’re welcome to join me. Give me a good seeing to.”
“You’re racking up the mother of all spankings as soon as you’ve healed enough to go over my knee. You know that, don’t you?” His promises only amplify the pleasure currently being demanded by my battery-operated assistant, sending shivers rolling up my spine to tickle the hairs at the back of my neck.
“Promises, promises, vecchietto ,” I purr. “I’ve waited long enough to feel your tongue between my legs. Are you really going to deny me the pleasure of coming on your face?”
He stalks forwards and stops in front of me, dropping the towel in his hand and unfurling the one around his waist, letting it fall in a heap. I’m so distracted by his half hard cock bobbing in front of me as it starts to stand to attention that I miss the hand moving to wrap around mine. He grips it tightly and pushes the toy more firmly against my swollen clit, wringing a strangled moan from my lips.
“Are you going to be good for me, baby girl? ”
I nod enthusiastically because I can’t form words while he’s flexing his wrist, creating waves of alternating pressures against my oversensitive clit.
“I’m going to lay down in this bed and you’re going to ride my face.”
“I am so on board with this plan,” I say eagerly.
“But…”
“No, no buts. Unless it’s my butt and you’re fucking it,” I plead, unable to hide the pout that plasters itself across my face. “I need this. I need you.”
“If you want me, you’ll do as you’re told. Do you understand me? I won’t risk hurting you.” His tone is hard but laced with desire.
“I trust you. You won’t hurt me.”
He lifts his free hand and wraps it around the back of my neck, threading his fingers into the hair at the base of my skull and pulling me towards him, stealing a kiss as he presses the toy harder against my clit. His mouth swallows my moans as he pushes me closer to my peak.
I cry out in frustration when he steps back suddenly, taking his lips and my toy with him.
“No fair, I was so close,” I whine, and he simply arches one eyebrow in response. I either take what he gives me, or I get nothing, and I definitely want whatever he’s prepared to give me. I love a solo orgasm as much as the next person, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss out on one from him.
He stalks around the bed, laying on his back in the centre of the mattress and pushing the pillows aside. “Come over here, grab onto the headboard for support, and sit on my face,” he demands, while crooking his index finger at me.
He doesn’t have to ask me twice.
The second I throw my leg over him, his arms wrap around the tops of my thighs and he pulls me down. I expect him to go straight for my clit, but instead, he flattens his tongue and laps at my slick folds before thrusting into my pussy at the same time as settling the still buzzing toy against the now throbbing bundle of nerves.
“Fuck, yes, Daddy, I needed this,” I cry, flexing my fingers and gripping the headboard so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if I were leaving indentations in the wood.
He may say something in response but whatever it is, is more growl than anything else and is followed up with the toy being rocked against my clit and his free hand gripping me tighter. His enthusiasm only turns me on more, as his tongue penetrates me, flexing against the front of my pussy, teasing my G-spot mercilessly. The result is an orgasm that doesn’t just reach its peak, it rips through me at a cellular level.
His tongue doesn’t stop its brutal pace as he fucks me through my release, drinking down every drop of my arousal and wringing desperate, guttural moans from my lips.
I’m still seeing stars when he taps my thigh, but I pull myself up higher, deciding it’s probably wise not to allow a man with such talent to suffocate. It’s definitely in my best interests.
I’m exhausted, and my limbs feel like they're floating. I giggle as he shuffles down the bed, not expecting me to swing my leg off him to release him. I mean, I would, but right now, all my energy has been sapped from me.
There’s rustling as he kneels up, nestling in behind me and trailing kisses from the nape of my neck to my shoulder.
“You’re delicious, baby girl. I could eat you for hours,” he whispers against my dewy skin.
“I’d let you if I could take it. I think I’m going to need to build my stamina back up,” I pant out, a little disappointed with my complete lack of endurance.
“You did such a good job, coming so hard for me.” I let his praise wash over me and lean into his hot breath at my neck, revelling in the way his fingers tease and tickle across the rest of my body as he speaks.
“I love you, Stefano.”
“I love you too. So much,” he replies, voice thick with emotion. “I thought I’d lost you that day. I’m going to drive you nuts, being an overprotective twat for the rest of our lives, you know?”
“Oh, I know. But when that happens, I think I’m just going to use this tactic again; get naked and demand orgasms. It seems to be working out well for me.” I let go of my grip on the headboard and turn around to face him, pressing my lips to his before he has a chance to reply.
The kiss isn’t soft, it’s ardent and full of passion and all the words we want to say to each other. Now and always. It’s a promise that I’m his and he’s mine.
When I pull back, his hand reaches out, dusting his fingertips from my collarbone, down through the valley of my breasts, and tracing the line of my scar. His touch is delicate, and his expression isn’t one of pity, it’s nothing but awe. Respect for my strength. I feel seen on every level.
“I’m going to need you to fuck me like you own me,” I say with a smile, mirroring his movements, dancing my fingers across his chest and teasing down to his impossibly well-defined abdominal muscles, not stopping until I’ve wrapped my hand around his dick.
He keens at my touch and the noise he makes is closer to a whimper than a moan when I tighten my grip and begin to pump his length, running my thumb over the slit in his crown and drawing his pre-cum back down his rigid cock.
“I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me and fill me up.”
He leans in, letting his warm lips caress my neck, bringing a flurry of goosebumps that chase themselves in circles, only making me more desperate for his touch.
“I’ll fuck you. I’ll fill you up. But you’re going to do exactly as you’re told if you want my cum in your hot little cunt. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Oh god yes Daddy, whatever you say.
My pussy clenches when he quirks his dimple-laden smile at me, showing me just how much he likes it when I call him that. He takes my hand in his and moves me away from his dick, pulling me down onto my back and nudging my legs apart to give him the room to settle himself between them. As soon as the weight of him presses against me, I smile. It feels more right than I can fathom; like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, about to be worshipped by the man I love.
He's careful to keep his weight off of my chest and leaves my arms free to wrap around his neck, drawing him down into a passionate kiss that’s only broken when he rolls his hips, running the tip of his cock along my seam and notching himself at my entrance.
I gasp with pleasure when he thrusts forward, smiling as the bulbous head of his cock rubs against the walls of my pussy, and let out a string of incoherent whimpers when he bottoms out and holds himself inside me.
“Please, fuck me. Please don’t stop. Take me, I’m yours.”
“Of course you’re mine, baby girl. Your pleasure is mine,” he says, pulling back only to thrust right back in. “This pussy is mine.” He withdraws to the very tip and my pussy flutters, demanding his cock return immediately. He thrusts again and my whine of frustration transforms into a whimper of ecstasy. “This heart is mine,” he says, lifting his hand and laying it flat across my chest, obscuring most of the angry red scar and filling my heart to the brim with more emotion than I think my body can handle.
He holds my gaze as he starts to rock into me, setting a pace that has my orgasm cresting quicker than I could have imagined. My pants become pleas, begging for him to come with me. To take me. To own me. To love me.
And he does. Coming with his lips pressed to mine, stealing the air from my lungs. White light flashes behind my eyes as my orgasm rolls through me like thunder before a welcome storm, crackling in the air just before the heavens open .
As I lay beneath him and lean into his touch as he strokes the stray hairs away from my face, I know that whatever happens, he’s it for me. Nothing compares to the love I have for him.
He pulls back and I whimper at the loss, but when he rolls on his back and tucks me into his side, I revel in finding my nook. Laying my head against his shoulder and resting my arm across his chest, I tickle the little forest of hairs across his pecs.
“Sometimes when I look at you, saying ‘I love you’ doesn’t feel like enough,” I whisper with a love-struck sigh.
Reaching across, he crooks a finger under my chin and pulls my gaze to his. His sapphire blue eyes glisten with emotion as his words settle in my soul.
“ Ti amerò per sempre, Katerina . ”
“Until forever,” I answer.
I promise.
I vow.