23. Chapter 23 - Cole
L ast night was absolutely insane. Never in a million years did I think the Russians would shoot up Giovanni’s, but we’re going to get back at them. All of them have to die. I also never thought Emiliano was the kind of man to take me out on a date. I thought for sure I’d have to give that dream up, but he surprised me. He keeps me guessing, always on my fucking toes. I don’t know up from down when I’m around him, and that’s dangerous. He really does make a mess of me.
Sitting in that restaurant across from him felt different. Like some switch flipped between us. He’s acting differently, I can tell. It’s as if Matteo leaving solidified our relationship for him, and now he’s making plans for the future with me. He offered me the club, for fuck’s sake. That’s a huge deal. The biggest step he could possibly take. It’s even bigger than a marriage proposal, in my opinion. Is that where we’re headed? Fuck, I hope so.
Everyone knows whose I am, and while some looked surprised, the people who matter to us have been accepting. Everyone except for one. The most important person of them all. I have faith he’ll come around eventually, though Emiliano sure doesn’t. He doesn’t have to say it out loud, but I can tell by the way he’s resigned himself to this. I haven’t though. I want Matteo to forgive us, to be part of our lives. Maybe that’s delusional, to think he could ever turn the page and start over with both of us, but I have hope.
I have to hope, or I’ll go into a deep depression. The thought of losing Matteo forever is enough to make getting out of bed every morning a struggle. If it weren’t for Emiliano being here for me, I’d be lost. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. But he is here, lifting me up every morning. Making sure I brush my teeth and take a shower. Putting food in my belly. We haven’t fucked since the night Matty left, and honestly, I can’t blame him. I don’t think I want to right now either. It’s hard enough as it is. What if we fuck again and he comes home to talk? The thought makes me want to throw up. But I know eventually we’ll have to go back to normal. And I know Matty—he wouldn’t just show up uninvited anymore. Not after what he saw last time.
It couldn’t have been easy to see us together—naked. Was he there the entire time? On the other side of the door? Listening to us? The thought doesn’t disgust me. Instead, it destroys me. He probably didn’t know what the hell he was listening to at first. It had to be hard, realizing that his dad was the one fucking me. Which is why I don’t blame him for disappearing. He deserves time to process this situation—as much time as he needs. And who are we to determine how much time is enough for him? Just how much did we hurt him? I know it was a lot, but will he ever come around? Will I hold it against him if he doesn’t?
Fuck.
Now we also have the Russians to worry about. I can admit that I fucked up by not killing Andrey back then, like I wanted to. Instead, I opened a whole can of worms by almost cooking him alive. He wants revenge, but I’m not going to let him have it.
I was untouchable in prison, unfortunately for him. I had a reputation for slicing throats with a mere scalpel, and everyone was afraid of my collection of sharp objects. Not that I advertised them. People just happened to know. Probably my cellmate said something. He had a hard time keeping his mouth shut. It’s a miracle we got along so well, but he kept to himself mostly, and so did I.
I’m obviously out of prison now, though, which means Andrey thinks I’m fair game. I have to show him he’s mistaken. That if he doesn’t stop, the only one dying will be him. I have so many ideas for how to kill him too, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned the past few days is that killing him is non-negotiable. It has to happen. I also think the best way to start over is by killing them all. The Pakhan, his daughter, and Andrey. It’s the only way we can secure a new alliance with the Russians, by letting new leaders rise. Then maybe, just maybe, we can come to an agreement.
Emiliano stirs next to me, tightening his arm around my waist and pulling me in. He presses his nose into the crook of my neck and inhales deeply, then rubs it up the length of my throat and to my jaw. My eyes are still closed, and I focus on how good his body feels wrapped around mine. This is what my dreams are made of. This is what I’ve craved. How the hell did I get so lucky? How is this my life?
“You awake?” Emiliano asks, his voice thick from sleep. My cock stirs at the sound, and I breathe in deeply.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Just thinking.”
There’s a beat of silence, as if he’s scared of the answer, but he still asks, “About what?”
“Last night,” I say with a sigh. “The Russians.”
Emiliano seems to relax at my words, as if this war is easier to talk about than his son. I know that’s the topic of conversation he’s trying to avoid. And it probably is easier to talk about this. It just sucks. I can’t be the only one who wants him back.
“What about them?” he asks, his hand roaming down to my naked hip and gripping it tightly.
“We need to get rid of them.”
“Obviously,” Emiliano says dryly.
I huff. “I mean, we need to get rid of the Pakhan, Andrey, and even Natasha.”
He stiffens. “Why Natasha?” I pause at his tone of voice, then narrow my eyes. “She hasn’t done anything.”
“Neither did all the customers at Giovanni’s last night, and they were still killed,” I snap. “She’s his sister. She’s gotta go.”
“No.” Em shakes his head.
“Why the fuck not?” I ask him through gritted teeth, trying to turn over to face him, but he holds me tightly in place and doesn’t let me. “Do you want her?”
“What?” Emiliano chuckles. “ No .”
“Then tell me why.”
“I just…” He trails off. “I want to do things differently.”
“Innocents have already died,” I remind him. “The time to do things differently is over. We need a new alliance if we want peace.”
Em nods. “Everyone but her.”
Her.
The Russian mafia princess.
“I can’t agree to that,” I sigh. “We’re taking that house, and if she’s in there, I won’t hesitate, Em. I’ll kill her.”
Emiliano’s hand tightens impossibly more, and I know my hip is going to bruise. “Can we talk about something else?” He buries his face into the crook of my neck once more and bites me. “No business in bed.”
I chuckle. “What would you like to talk about?”
He seems to think for a second, then says, “I don’t want to talk.”
“No?” I smirk. “Then what would you like to do?”
Emiliano’s hand shifts from my hip to my now hard cock, and he wraps it tightly around me, stroking slowly. I have the sudden urge to straddle him and jerk us off, but he pushes me onto my back before I can do it, and in a move I definitely don’t anticipate, gets between my spread thighs.
“Lube,” he grits out, and I reach under my pillow with a smirk and hand him to him. “Always ready, aren’t you? Such a dirty fucking slut.”
Em uncaps the lube and lathers his fingers, and I watch him as he presses two to my hole. My eyes close of their own accord, and I breathe in deeply as he breaches me. “Yes,” I breathe. “Such a fucking slut just for you.”
He hums, crooking his fingers until he finds my prostate. My back arches off the bed and a filthy whimper escapes my lips. I open my eyes to find him watching me, and when he does it again, I force myself to keep my eyes on him. I don’t want to miss a second of this.
“Those. Fucking. Sounds,” Emiliano growls. “So fucking sexy.”
My cock leaks onto my abs, a string of pre-cum dribbling obscenely, and I moan when he continues to rub against my prostate. “Please, Em,” I beg. “Please suck me off. I can’t stand the torture.”
Emiliano smirks, and then his warm breath hits the head of my cock. I gasp at the sensation. “I missed this tight little hole, baby,” he whispers, and my stomach flips when he calls me that. He licks the head of my cock, sucking on it and twirling his tongue around it, devouring my pre-cum. He pulls away too quickly, and my cock throbs, my ass clenching around his fingers as I groan loudly. “Did you miss my tongue?”
I whimper.
“Look at how your ass is sucking my fingers in. Just begging to be fucked.” Oh, fucking hell. His mouth is going to be the end of me. “Are you going to beg me too, Cole?”
“Yes,” I reply quickly, all too eager. “Please, Em. Please. I’m fucking begging you. Put your mouth on me. My cock hurts.”
Emiliano chuckles, then he licks my slit, sucking my cock back into his mouth. I’m afraid this is going to be over quickly when he rubs over my prostate once more, and when my spine tingles, I breathe in deeply through my nose. But he’s nothing if not persistent, and when he takes me to the back of his throat and swallows, I feel myself thicken even more.
He’s relentless as he works me from both sides, and I begin to shake. Just like I predicted, it’s over quickly. My balls draw up, my legs tremble violently, and when he crooks his fingers once more, I gasp loudly. He moans around my cock. “I’m gonna?—”
He hums, and the vibration goes straight to my balls, and I shoot down his throat. It constricts around me, making my orgasm last longer than I thought was possible, and his fingers thrust in and out of my ass hard as he milks my cock.
“Fuck,” I mutter as he pulls his fingers out, making me feel empty. “That was?—”
“My turn.” Em grins, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and suddenly he’s straddling my chest. “Be a good boy and let me fuck your throat.”
I nod enthusiastically, and he presses the head of his cock to my lips. I lick it, tasting his pre-cum, and moan. “Such a hot little mouth,” Em says as he pushes his cock between my lips and immediately thrusts into the back of my throat. I breathe in sharply through my nose and swallow around him. “I want to come all over you,” he gasps. “Going to fucking wreck you, Cole.”
I moan again, and he fucks my throat once, twice, three times, before he pulls out and comes all over my face. I close my eyes, feeling rope after rope of cum hit my cheeks, my forehead, and even my hair.
“ Fuuuuck ,” Emiliano shouts. “Fucking hell.”
I smile softly at him, opening my eyes. He’s looking down at me like I hung the moon, and my stomach flutters. Something squeezes in my chest at the sight of him over me, and he moves down to straddle my hips instead of my chest.
“So fucking filthy,” I murmur, running my hand over his thigh. I look at his thick cock, half-hard between his legs, and my mouth waters. I could go again right now; instead, I stay still when he begins to rub his cum into my skin. “ God .”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Emiliano whispers, and my eyes sting. “I could stare at you all day and never get tired.”
I smile. “Do it, then.”
“Let’s get you in the shower,” he says as he gets off me, and I miss the feeling of his warm body on top of mine as soon as it’s gone. “Then we can eat some breakfast and watch a movie.”
“So domestic.” I grin.
“Get used to it.” He winks, and I swear he needs to stop making my stomach do crazy shit. “You’re going to be my husband one day.”
My stomach fills with butterflies now, and my eyes widen. He chuckles at the sight, offering his hand to me from the side of the bed. He holds my hand all the way to the bathroom, then turns on the shower and tests the temperature. Once he deems it safe, he pushes me under the spray.
Emiliano washes me thoroughly, gently, and I relish in it. No one’s ever made me feel so fucking cared for before. I didn’t know it could be like this with him. Soft. Gentle. Slow. I crave these little moments now, and I think he does, too.
“I—” I love you —I almost say it. But I stop myself.
“You what?” he whispers against the shell of my ear, getting closer, plastering his wet front to my back.
“I want to be your husband.” A different truth. “Just so you know.”
“I know,” he replies, running his hands up my chest, then palming my pecs. “And you’re going to be. I swear it.”
I nod slowly, but don’t say anything.
“Never doubt me, Cole,” Em says softly. “I always mean what I say.”
Right now, I wish he’d say it back. I love you. But this is enough. It has to be, and I won’t push him. He’ll say it when he’s ready. It doesn’t change the fact that I feel it, though, that the words are always on the tip of my tongue.
I’ll just hold them back for now.