Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
G aetano
This is wrong. So fucking wrong. I’m going to hell if I get back on that bed—a hell Sandro will gladly send me to. But I’m already in hell at the thought of walking away from her.
Gorgeous. So damn beautiful she makes every inch of me ache with need to touch her. The changes from three years ago to now are numerous. Even the taste of her cunt is different. None are more important than that she’s finally a woman. A woman with needs and demands, my woman is greedy for me, and walking away from her will happen—it has to. But not now. I’m a weak fucker.
She’s on her knees, reaching for me. I catch her around her throat and bring her up to my mouth. The witch learns fast. Her first kiss was all hunger without a hint of knowledge, and it made me feel like a bastard.
I had no damn right to be grateful no other man had touched her. I’ve never been with a virgin—never wanted to be with a virgin. Virgins always thought the first time they had sex was some magical, meaningful thing filled with love. Except it wasn’t, it was messy and painful, and there’s no getting around that. She deserved better than me, but it was too late now because I can’t walk away. For tonight, I’m hers, and she was mine.
I put her back on the bed, grabbing her hands as they attempt to yank off my boxers. “No, angel, I need as much help as possible to not come before you.”
The blush that sweeps over her beautiful face and down to her luscious breasts is fucking adorable. Grasping both wrists in one hand, I press them up over her head, loving the way she is open and on display for me. “You are so damn gorgeous I swear I could come just looking at you.”
“Gaetano.” She whimpers as her hips undulate in invitation.
Sucking deep on her neck at the place where her heart is pounding beneath silky soft skin, I’m leaving a mark, and it fills me with satisfaction. Everyone who sees her will be aware she belongs to someone—me. Kissing down to her breasts, I capture a dusky cherry nipple and suckle deep. Her little pants and moans from deep in her throat tell me how much she loves this. Good, because I love it more.
Christ. My cock is begging to be inside her almost as much as she is. Except I can’t rush this. The last thing I want is to hurt her, and with my cock as thick and long as it is, if I don’t prepare her perfectly—I will.
Kissing my way down her body, she widens her legs in a clear invitation for me to settle between them. The sight of her juice coating her lips and dripping down to her ass has my cock jumping. Delicious . More intoxicating than any drug I’ve ever tried. I could become addicted to this—her—all too easily.
I’m not proud of the way I fall on her, needing to consume every last drop of her desire. Gone is all skill and patience, I’m greedy and desperate. Sucking deep on her swollen outer lips as I fuck my tongue into her is not enough. Every inch, I need to discover every last inch of her, and have her begging and shivering beneath my mouth.
Her hips are coming off the bed as she whispers my name in a chant. I send two fingers inside her, watching her for how well she can take them. My poor baby, despite widening her thighs, those fingers cause her discomfort. Her pussy walls are contracting around my fingers. Both inviting them in and trying to keep them out. I suck on her hard clit as I fuck her with my fingers, sending her into an orgasm that has her screaming my name.
I keep pumping my fingers, not stopping through her orgasm, and I’m rewarded by their ability to go deeper inside her tight channel. “Gaetano, please. I want you, not your fingers.”
Hell no. If she can form words, then she’s not out of her mind enough to take my cock. There we go, she’s fucking me back, her hips seeking more of my fingers inside her. This time the orgasm as I suckle at her clit is a small shimmering one, but it’s exactly what I want—her whole body goes limp as the waves of pleasure wash over her.
I’m up between her thighs, grasping my cock in one hand as it jumps to be inside her. I run the head along her weeping slit and fight not to collapse on her from how good it feels to coat my cock with her juice. Pressing into her sends her head back, and her eyes close.
“Open your eyes, angel. Who is inside you right now?”
Blue sparkles up at me. “You, Gaetano. Finally, where I’ve dreamed of you for so long, I don’t remember what came before you.”
I give her a few more inches, sliding into her tight channel. She gasps in pain. I’m trying not to come from the way her pussy is contracting around the head of my cock. Christ. No fucking way am I coming without her and so damn fast.
“You can take me. Yes, you can.” I send my thumb over her clit, and it earns me another inch. “So good. You’re my good girl, and I’m so proud of you for taking my cock. Just a little more.”
She moans as her hips undulate. “More, yes. I can take more. I want more of you. I want all of you.”
Perfect. “It’s going to hurt, baby. I’m sorry.”
“I know, but it will hurt more if you don’t. Fuck me, Gaetano. Please fuck me.”
I give into what she and my body demand, thrusting hard inside her until I’m bottoming out into the tightest pussy I’ve ever known. Swallowing her cry of pain, I fight every cell in my body begging me to move. I feast on her mouth until the tears swimming in her eyes fall away. Lungs frantic for air demand I end the kiss.
A moan escapes her. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. You feel so good burning every inch of you into me, branding me as yours.”
Although her words have my cock jumping, I don’t want the moment to end.
This is as close to heaven on earth as I’ll ever get, and I want to make it last as long as possible. The witch clutches at me deep inside, and I fight not to come. I give in to her begging and move within her.
My thrusts are small, more of a grinding than anything—I’m terrified she won’t let me back inside this heaven if I pull out. Except before long, it’s not enough for either of us. I’m thrusting deep within her, then out, harder, faster, the way she’s begging me for.
No, more. I want more of this. It’s too soon, too fucking soon. But it’s happening. Her climax is cresting. Before I’m ready, it slams into her taking her under and me with her as her sweet pussy spasms around me, milking me for every drop of come.
I catch myself before I fall on her—barely. We’re both gasping for air as I manage to move onto my side. The witch has her legs wrapped around me so tightly I’m taking her with me without meaning to.
“Mm, please not yet, Gaetano. I love the feel of you inside me. Just another minute more.”
Shaking my head, I roll onto my back, careful to remain inside her the way she wants. Her little sigh of pleasure sinks into my skin and bones.
I want more of her. I want her beneath my skin so I can protect her from everything and everyone who would dare to hurt her. Except it’s too late. I can’t protect her from the thing that will hurt her most—me.
Bianca
I come awake slowly. Although I long to stay in the sweet bliss of sleep, my brain won’t let me. The sun is barely coming up, which means I didn’t sleep for long, maybe an hour or two.
Holy shit. That was…I have no words. Amazing, awesome, incredible, none of them even come close. And I’m mad at him all over again. I might not have known it would be like this, but he had to have known. All these years, he kept this from me—from us.
I want to start yelling, screaming, and crying at him, only I don’t dare move because it will put an end to him inside me. Despite how large and thick he was and how badly it hurt when he first thrust into me, he fits perfectly within me. I love the intense heat of him, the way his heart is pounding in time with mine, burning him further into me with every beat.
A deep sigh moves me on him. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll drive you home.”
I push up from him, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist. “No. Please don’t.”
He won’t meet my eyes. “I have to, Bianca. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“But it did. Damn it. And you aren’t sorry it did. We can do this. We can be together. Sandro loves me and he wants me to be happy—and you make me happy.”
Shaking his head, he sits up. “That is never going to happen. Sandro will kill me. Stop living in a dream world and grow the fuck up.” He’s harsh, mean, and his fingers biting into my skin as he tries to pull me off him will leave a bruise. “Bianca, this is over. You were a good fuck for it being your first time, but I’ve gotten my fill of you.”
Despite his words, his body betrays him with the way he’s hardening within me. “You’re a liar. You’ve been lying for three years, and it’s getting pretty damn old.” I grind down on his cock, and we both moan from how amazing it feels. “You don’t really want me to go.”
I begin moving on him. I swear, he’s steel wrapped in silk, he’s so hard.
A dozen curse words in English, Italian, and Spanish flow from him down my skin as he gives in and begins moving beneath me. Yes, oh god, yes. I’m angry at him for lying all over again. He’s angry he can’t fight his body’s response, and we’re both battling for control. Battling is laughable. This man owns me, every damn inch, and he takes over with such ease I’d be pissed if I didn’t love it so much.
Our mouths meet and mate, biting, sucking to the edge of pain. It’s nothing compared to the way he’s slamming into my still-sore pussy. Yet I want more, need more, beg him for harder, faster, deeper, so much more.
Please. Please, oh god.
I tip over the edge into waves of pleasure. I’m desperate for air, and it feels like I’m losing until the moment Gaetano comes. I gasp at the molten lava heat of his come filling me. The same way I did the first time he came inside me, I say a tiny prayer of thanks that he didn’t have a condom because missing this would have been a sacrilege.
We’re back on the bed, both gasping for air. I’m floating in the ocean, wondering if there’s anything better than this in the whole world. It’s my last thought before I slip into sleep.
The next time I wake up, I’m alone. I roll over to find a note and see it’s almost three in the afternoon. I’m shocked at the time and annoyed by the note. The note is far too short, he got called in for an emergency—I can’t believe I slept through that. He’s glad to be called away. Because it shouldn’t have happened, and it will never happen again.
Bullshit. I roll off the bed and into the bathroom. Beneath the steaming showerhead, my skin is brand new and sensitive to every drop of water falling on me. A thrill runs through me as I discover all the bruises from not only his mouth but his teeth. I didn’t feel half of these when he made them. It was like he wanted to devour me—and he did.
I’m blushing as I clean up from him coming inside me—because a part of me is ashamed over how much I hate cleaning it out. I have to be weird to love his come as much as I do, except I don’t care and want more of it. There is something so erotic about the feeling of having a part of him inside me when he isn’t close enough for me to touch. Although right now, there is the sensation he’s inside me—the only thing missing is the scorching heat of him.
The shock of the pink water yanks me out of my thoughts. Where in the hell did it come from? Oh yeah, how could I have forgotten when it stung so badly at the time it happened? I hadn’t expected as much pain as there was. Thankfully, the pain was brief and didn’t compare to how good he felt inside me.
My phone ringing has me rushing out of the shower. It’s Sandro’s ringtone. Not completely dry, I answer with a towel wrapped around me.
“Hello,” I don’t know what else to say.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hung up on you like that. It was a matter of being so pissed I was worried what I might say to you. Now I can see that I should have had a conversation with you about how I saw my marriage would be before I left. No matter that I had no plans to marry and was not excited about marrying someone as young as she is. It was still my intention to treat her with respect and kindness, and I wanted you to do the same. You got things wrong about Carina, so did I. She’s not who she appears on social media. Carina will be my wife, and you will respect her place in my life.”
Wiping my eyes, I struggle to exhale and keep him from hearing my tears. If I do one more thing wrong, he’s going to kick me out of his life. He’ll walk away without looking back, the same as my father and Marissa. I’m not surprised, I always knew this would happen one day. Sandro loved me, but he didn’t love me enough to put me before the Outfit. I was always going to get tossed aside if it came down to me versus the Outfit.
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, it takes a minute before I can get the words out. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about her. I promise I’ll be good. Whatever you want.”
His sigh is low. “Good. I’m glad. I think you and Carina are going to have a lot in common and will get along great once you meet her. All right. I need to go. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Ending the call, I shake my head. It’s already happening. I’m losing him from one single meeting with her. I don’t know if he thinks he’s in love with her, or if it’s because marrying the daughter of the Don of the Outfit will bring him the power he’s always sought.
Thank god for Gaetano. If Sandro gets to have the woman he wants, then I should be able to have Gaetano. I’m not stupid enough to think he’ll welcome what I will tell him with a smile and a pat on my head. It’s going to take some time for him to accept that Gaetano is what I want. I don’t care how long it takes, as long as in the end I get Gaetano. Besides, I have no doubt Sandro is tired of me—of taking care of me. He’s probably going to be ecstatic that I’ll be someone else’s problem and no longer his.
My phone alerts with a text. Excited, I check the text to find it’s from Natasha, wondering where I am.
Oh shit. I completely forgot about meeting with her today. What do I say? I’m not leaving. I need to be here when Gaetano gets home, so we can have an actual discussion. If I’m gone, he’s going to hide from me.
Fingers nearly shaking from being paranoid that Natasha will somehow know I’m lying to her, I tap out a message I hope she’ll accept.
I’m really sorry, I completely forgot about meeting with you. Can I please move it to another day? I’m helping a friend study for her final, and we have several more hours to go.
My stomach is flipping a thousand times per minute as I will her not to ask any more questions so I don’t have to lie. I’m not a liar because I think lying is wrong. I don’t lie because I have a shitty memory and lies are hard to keep straight.
Hey, sure. Not a problem
lmk what works for you.
I exhale the breath I forgot I was holding in. The air conditioning kicks on, and only now do I realize I stopped holding my towel around me and shiver. I need to do laundry for the bedsheets, the towel, and my clothes. Which means I need to find a shirt in Gaetano’s closet.
Opening the door to his closet, I’m once again struck by how full it is. In my first year psych class, I learned it was likely because he never had nice clothes as a child. So now he has bought everything he wanted and only has the best of everything.
I run my fingers over his dress shirts until I feel silk beneath my fingertips. Nice, it’s made of black silk. I hold it up to me and am relieved to find the tail of the shirt stops at almost an inch above my knees—perfect. Dropping my towel, I slide on the shirt and fumble with the buttons. In front of the mirror, I giggle. It looks like a very expensive shirt dress. Good to know in case I forget to bring a change of clothes.
Surveying the bed, I sigh. That’s a big ass bloodstain that appears vibrant against the snow white of the sheets and comforter. I go into the small laundry room to see if the washer is as small as I remember it. Yep, I remembered it well. I’m going to need to wash the comforter and sheets separately. At least there was only blood on the sheets. Starting the machine, I have to go hunting to find the bleach. A few pours until I think it’s probably a half cup of bleach, goes in before the soap pod thingy.
Almost four hours after I woke up, I have eaten twice and washed everything. I’m even back in my clothes. I’m beginning to wonder where the hell Gaetano is when my phone rings with his ringtone.
Before I can open my mouth, Gaetano is snarling at me. “What are you still doing there?”
I love this man, but he’s working every last nerve I have. “I’m not leaving until you’re here and we can have a discussion about what happened. We need to talk about how we’re going to ease Sandro into accepting us.”
“Bianca, I apologize for giving in to the desire I have for you. It was wrong on almost every level. Sandro isn’t going to shrug and say he’s happy for us. He will kill me and ship you off to an all-women's university. There is no discussion to have.”
“Bullshit. You freaked out because now that I know you wanted me as badly as I’ve wanted you, you can’t keep lying to me. I’m not going to let you pat me on the head and push me away. Aren’t you tired of hiding and pretending?”
“Go home, Bianca. It’s going to be another long night for me.” Without another word, he ends the call.
Bastard. I’m going to kick his ass when he gets home.
Except the bastard never comes home. I give in to exhaustion a little after two in the morning and fall asleep in bed wearing the silky shirt I wore while I was waiting for my clothes to wash and dry.
I wake up on my own a little after nine to find Gaetano never came home. Rolling over, I stare at the ceiling pondering what my next move is. He’s not going to come home until I leave. What is the matter with me? Am I like a fucking masochist or something? This man is going to do everything he can to push me away because he’s now aware he can’t fight me.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I wonder if I’m really going to do this? To be the one who pushes us forward? It’s not fair. I have to fight Sandro and him. Is it worth it? I open my eyes, but I don’t see the ceiling. All I can see is the wonder in his eyes as he needed to affirm it was no dream. Yes, damn it. It’s going to be worth it in the end.