15. Luca
Luca
Chapter fifteen
Ithink this is the first time I’ve ever seen Giada speechless. Hell, if I knew this would have done the trick, I would have eaten her sweet cunt months ago. And fuck, my wife tastes fucking delicious.
“You’re a little overdressed,” Giada says, nodding at my shirt and jeans I’m still wearing.
I grab the back of my shirt and pull it over my head, discarding it on the floor next to her yoga pants. Her hand travels over the scar on my side. The one I got just before I came to work for her father.
“What happened?” she asks.
“Knife,” I reply.
“And here?” She runs her fingers over the scar from when my cousin shot me at the warehouse so her brother wouldn’t be suspicious that I walked away scot-free.
“Bullet grazed me.”
“Is this all because of my family?”
“No,” I reply honestly. “Because of mine.” I’ve been stabbed and shot for my family. For the decisions I made to put myself here.
“I don’t want to talk about my scars.” There’re too many she can't see anyways.
“What do you want to talk about?” Her lips tip in a half smile and my palms skate up her arms and over her shoulders until I’m holding her flushed cheeks in my hands.
“Absolutely nothing.”
I swipe my lips over hers and she wastes no time opening her mouth to allow me entrance. The kiss turns heated within seconds as Giada’s small hands come to the button of my pants and she pulls the zipper down, freeing me from the confines of my too-tight jeans.
When she reaches her hand in and pulls my hard cock free, I hiss. “Fuck, that feels good.” Her grip tightens around my cock, slowly moving her palm base to tip.
Our foreheads are pressed together as we watch her pump me a few times before I pull away. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be over before it starts.” I’m not some two-pump chump, but her tight fist around me feels too damn good, and I’m way too worked up.
“You tasted me, I think it’s only fair you let me have my turn,” she says in a throaty voice.
“We have plenty of time for that. I need to feel your sweet pussy squeezing me the first time I come anywhere in your body.”
I grab her by the back of the neck and yank her face to mine, delving my tongue deep into her mouth. Giada returns the kiss with the same fire. My hands skirt down her naked ass to the back of her strong thighs that have been conditioned from her hours at the dance studio. Her legs wrap around me, and I begin walking to the spiral staircase to the bedroom, each step making my cock brush against her wet entrance.
When we make it to the bedroom, I lay Giada on the bed and shuck my jeans off, standing before her completely naked.
“Now who’s overdressed?” I ask, pointing to the bra she’s still wearing. The material is nearly see-through, but as soon as she removes it from her body, my breath whooshes out of me. My wife is fucking perfection. Her round breasts fall from the material with her dusty-pink nipples hardened into points, begging for my mouth. I don’t waste any time and sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing her by the waist and hauling her to my lap so I can have her tits in my face. Giada lets out a squeal, but as soon as my mouth attaches to her breast, she throws her head back on a moan, grabbing tightly to the hair on the back of my head. Her hips move over my cock that’s aching to be inside of her as I give each breast the equal amount of attention they deserve.
I’ve been too scared to imagine being here with Giada. Certain if I did, I wouldn’t be able to resist kissing her like I finally allowed myself to do in the kitchen. I worked so hard to keep walls up, even in my own mind, because I knew once I allowed those thoughts in my head, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else. Now, though, all bets are off. My mind is filled with images of her riding me, bringing us both to orgasm. Me pumping inside of her while her hair is splayed on the pillow below me. My face buried in her sweet fucking pussy over and over and so much more. It’s like the floodgates have opened, and I don’t have to hide anymore.
I remove her nipple from my mouth with a pop and stare into her amber eyes through a haze of desire. She’s absolutely stunning, and I have to give myself a little mental pat on the back for being able to keep myself together being around her these past months. If I had known she would be every fantasy come to life like she is now, with her rosy cheeks and eyes that stare at me with unabashed desire, I don’t know that I wouldn’t have risked it all for a taste of her.
I grab the side of her neck and pull her mouth to mine, invading it with my tongue as it tangles with hers. God, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her.
When she breaks the kiss, her hand finds my cock and she lifts her hips, slowly sliding me into her heat. Our eyes stay locked as we connect in the most intimate and primal way two people can for the first time.
“Oh my God,” she says, lifting slightly then sliding back down.
My hand grips her neck harder and her pulse thumps wildly against my palm. “Fuck, you feel so good,” I grind out, my other hand moving to her hip and clutching it while she rides me, grabbing my shoulders to steady herself. My hand that was around her neck moves to her hip and I dig my fingers into her flesh, pulling her harder down onto me to grind into her clit.
“Fuck,” she cries out as she reaches behind her to clutch my knees as I lift her then slam her down, over and over. I’m so deep inside of her like this, and it doesn’t take more than a few minutes for the telltale sign of my impending orgasm to make itself known.
“I need you there, baby.” My finger finds her clit and I begin rubbing furiously, desperate to feel her come on my cock.
“Oh God, oh God,” she chants over and over. “I’m going to come. Don’t stop.”
Like I could.
Her entire body tightens and the orgasm explodes through her, her pussy clamping down and pulsing around me, the feeling setting off my own as I come deep inside my wife for the first time.
“Fuck,” I bellow, the pleasure so intense my vision blinks in and out as I fall from the peak, taking Giada with me.
Giada is still seated on my lap as our breaths and heartbeats slow to a normal rate. Her fingertips lightly run up and down my arms as I languidly kiss her mouth, her neck, her shoulder. We aren’t in the frenzied rush we were a few minutes ago, instead taking our time to touch each other, to gently reassure each other that this is happening, we’re here and alive and together.
“I’m going to get a washcloth, then when I come back to bed, I’ll lie on my back and you’re going to ride my face until I make you scream again. Sound good?”
Her mouth tilts up in a half smile as I feel her pussy ripple with anticipation.
“Yeah, I can tell you like the idea.”
The afternoon falls into evening, and Giada and I only leave the bed for dinner and to refill our water glasses. I’ve barely scratched the surface of all the ways I want my wife, coming up with new ones as we bring each other to unimaginable highs. My favorite was when she used the overripe bananas on the counter to make bread, and after putting it in the oven, she dropped to her knees and took my hard cock in her mouth, bringing me to orgasm while she played with her clit and made herself come with me.
Now that we’ve admitted the attraction we’ve had for each other, it’s as though the barriers between us have fallen away and we can’t keep our hands off one another. That’s one of the reasons I’m finding it hard to leave the penthouse this morning when Finn comes to pick me up for the meeting with the capos he’d set up yesterday.
I’m upstairs and Giada is sitting cross-legged on the bed wearing one of my oversized T-shirts as I attempt to knot my tie, but I am too damn distracted by her long legs as she rubs lotion into her skin after our shower.
Her eyes meet my heated stare and she smirks, watching me undo the mess I’ve made.
“Come here,” she says, kneeling at the edge of the bed.
I stand in front of her, and she takes the tie at each end and begins crossing and looping the silk material together.
“There,” she says, and I lean down to kiss her soft lips, my hands grazing her hips and moving under the cotton material so I can feel her skin.
“Do me a favor,” she says, her lips a hairsbreadth from mine. “Come back in one piece.”
I pull back and look into Giada’s worried eyes. Lifting my hand to cup her cheek, I stare into her amber eyes so she can see and feel the weight of my words. “There is no scenario where I wouldn’t come back here to you, Giada. Finn and I are going to be fine.” I smile and kiss the tip of her nose. “Now, do me a favor and be in nothing but my shirt when I get back.” I shoot her a wink and my heart leaps at her tinkling giggle.
“You’re something else, Luca Benetti.”
“Right back at you, Mrs. Benetti.”
I head down the stairs and meet my cousin in the hallway. “Let’s get this over with. I have a honeymoon to get back to.”
The meeting is being held at a bar outside of Boston just before Amatto territory. This is one of the few places that stays neutral, but the owner has no problem burying a body for the right price if things go sideways. Mario met us here, and the six living capos of the Cataldi organization are seated in the large private space in the back of the bar that usually houses backroom card games.
Tensions are high when we walk in and the Cataldi men see me standing next to my cousin.
“Can’t say I saw this coming,” Dario, one of the Cataldi capos, says when I sit, Finn to my right and Mario on the other side of him.
“I won’t keep you long, gentleman,” Finn starts. “It’s no secret my family and the Cataldis haven’t exactly coexisted peacefully the last several years.”
“Or ever,” another capo, Leandro, mumbles. Both he and Dario are on the younger side, maybe midforties, while the other four sitting at the table have been around since the beginning of Francesco’s reign.
“That’s fair. But a lot of the high tensions, shall we say, were the result of your former boss, Francesco, pinning several murders on my father when, in fact, it was Francesco who ordered the hits on his men.”
The six men narrow their eyes at Finn. “Why the hell would Francesco kill his own men? We would have known about it.” The question comes from a man with Salvatore, one of the capos who’s been in the organization the longest.
“He had a man years ago, another capo who doubled as his personal assassin when he wanted to deal with things quietly. Constantine Barelli.”
“How the hell do you know that name? Constantine died years ago,” Salvatore says.
“Actually, he didn’t.” I decide now’s as good a time as any to speak up. “Francesco ordered him to kill my parents and me when I was a baby, but he couldn’t finish the job. He took me and ran, staying hidden until he died just over eight years ago. Raised me as his own. Before he passed, he told me the whole story and who my parents really were.”
“And who were your parents, kid?” Dario asks.
“My father was Elio Romano, and my mother was Ciara, Maeve Monaghan’s sister.”
Salvatore scoffs and waves his hand at me. “You really believe this, Amatto? That’s not how our world works. Maybe the Irish have no problem killing their own, but the Italians don’t go around murdering their own capos.”
“I’m well aware of what the Italians do and don’t do, Sal. So yes, I believe my son-in-law and his cousin.” Mario gives Salvatore a hard stare and the older capo returns it before another man speaks.
Tomasso’s gravelly voice shuts everyone up. “It’s true. Constantine killed Elio. When he disappeared, Francesco confided in me, and I was the bearer of many of his secrets for years after. I helped him stage Elio and Ciara’s body in his car to make it look like an Irish hit. That’s the story we wanted everyone to believe anyway.”
“My father knew Cataldi was responsible for his sister-in-law's death but couldn’t prove it. No one knew what happened to Luca until he reached out after Constantine’s death,” Finn explains.
It’s strange hearing Frank being referred to as Constantine. Constantine was the man who murdered my parents, Frank was my father. Yet they’re the same person.
“Francesco has been responsible for too many deaths within the organization. I didn’t know just how many until Constantine was gone and he needed someone else to help with his dirty work. That person was me,” Tomasso informs the room. The other capos look on in astonishment, especially Salvatore, as Tomasso continues. “Francesco was a paranoid dictator. He preached unity and collaboration in the organization, but it was all talk. If he suspected another man of scheming against him in any way, he took him out without any sort of discussion. He suspected his wife was going to leave him and had her killed as well. Paid off the investigator to say it was her brakes. There was an accident, but what killed her was the bullet to the head.”
Holy. Shit.
Giada’s father killed her mother.
I look around the room. Some of the men are horrified with the news and others don’t seem to care. Guess they subscribe to the belief that what a man does to his wife is his business and no one else’s.
“How the hell did you come to work for Francesco then?” Leandro asks me.
“Francesco killed my parents. I wanted revenge. Simple as that. Finn wanted power over Boston, and together, we planned to take Francesco out.”
Leandro looks at me with disgust pouring from his gaze. “Jesus Christ. You were a mole for the Irish this whole time.”
“You can call my cousin names and detest him all you want. But it doesn’t change the situation we’re in now.” Finn gives every capo in the room a hard stare. “Carlo was going to use his sister to gain power since he couldn’t find the support he needed.” To my recollection, Dario was the only capo who agreed to meet with Carlo. “He offered her in marriage to the Russians. They want a foothold in Massachusetts and Carlo wants to regain control of Boston. That’s who you're dealing with, gentlemen. A man who would gladly allow those Russian bastards into your territory and give them a piece of your pie.”
The jaw of every capo clenches when they realize what Carlo is really up to.
“That’s who’s been helping him?” Salvatore asks.
“Yes, but I’ve seen to it that there’s no longer a reason for the Russians to help Carlo.”
“How’s that?” Leandro asks.
A small grin spreads across my mouth. “I married Giada instead.”
Shocked silence fills the room, but Finn doesn’t allow it to linger. “Giada is protected by my family now. The Russians can’t get to her, and Carlo doesn’t have another ace up his sleeve.”
“What about Farina? He knows what you did to his son. He probably hates you more than Carlo at this point.”
“Orlando got what was coming to him and his father knows that. If he tries to help Carlo, he knows exactly what I’m capable of. Orlando already tried and failed. I doubt his father is going to risk it.” Finn looks around the room. “Same goes for any man sitting here. If you try to give Carlo any assistance in any way, Orlando won’t be the only Italian I put to ground in this war. My issue is with Carlo and Carlo alone. I’ll make this offer one time only. You can keep your territory and your businesses. Instead of paying dues to Carlo, they’ll be paid to me and Mario. The Cataldi organization will be absorbed by our family. And if anyone thinks Farina is going to help them, think again. Partnering with him means you’re signing your death warrant. There will be no second chances.”
“You got a lot of fucking nerve coming in here and threatening us,” Salvatore grits out.
“I do. And I have the means to back it up. Do you?” The challenging glare Finn sends Salvatore doesn’t waver for a second. It’s the first time I’ve seen my cousin as the Irish mob boss. Makes me fucking glad as hell we’re on the same side.
Dario and Salvatore glance at each other, obviously not taking kindly to being challenged by Finn. Leandro and Tomasso are less angry, resignation playing over their features.
“I’m too old for a war. I want to enjoy what I have while I’m still alive and not fight for scraps. And I sure as hell won’t work under Carlo. I accept your offer, Finn,” Tomasso says.
Leandro agrees, and the other two capos, Donny and Cesare, who’ve stayed pretty quiet during the meeting, nod their heads. There's only Dario and Salvatore left.
Seeing as there’s no support from the rest of the men, they begrudgingly agree as well.
Finn and Mario shake hands with the men, but they aren’t particularly thrilled with my presence. It’s no surprise. I was a mole for their enemy up until two days ago. When the men leave, it’s me, Finn and Mario left in the room.
“You good, cousin?”
I nod and blow out a breath. “Yeah. Shocked as hell that Francesco killed his wife, though.”
Mario shakes his head. “That man is a piece of shit.” From what Finn has told me about Mario Amatto, he holds his wife and daughter’s safety and well-being in the highest regard. Not common whatsoever in this life.
“Giada is going to be devastated,” I say.
“You don’t have to tell her,” Finn offers. “If that’s what you decide, no one here will say a word to her.”
“Would you keep something like that from Alessia?”
Finn chuckles. “No. I value my dick where it is.”
Mario clears his throat and shoots Finn a look who doesn’t look the least bit contrite. “Sorry. But it’s not like you don’t know exactly what your daughter is capable of.”
“Oh, I know,” Mario replies. “I raised her that way.” A proud smile covers his face and Finn laughs.
“Come on. Let’s get you home,” Finn says, turning to me.
It’s still early afternoon when we emerge from the bar. A sense of dread fills me, thinking about telling Giada what I learned. When she came to my room the morning we got married with tears on her face, it gutted me. And that was before I married her and spent the night showing her how I felt about her. Now it’s different. This news might destroy her. We both know her father is a monster and I hate him for everything he put her through, but no one is prepared for news like this. But I also swore I wouldn't lie to her. And I’ll be damned if I break a single promise to her now.