41. Angelo
41
ANGELO
When my angel locked her lips around my cock, every other thought fled my brain. Fuck locking down my territory. Fuck anything and everything but the fact that the woman I’d obsessed over for the last decade was on her knees in front of me, sucking me down like her life depended on it.
Her silky hair slipped through my fingers, and I held myself back from grabbing her skull and fucking her hoarse. This was a goddamned gift.
My woman.
Sucking my cock because she wanted to.
Thank you , she’d said, and I felt ten thousand feet tall.
Nobody fucked with what was mine, and if I had to rain hell down on Yorkfield to make them understand that Ana belonged to me, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
She was mine. And I wouldn’t let her slip through my fingers. Not again.
She took me deeper, and I stopped worrying about the future, the tight suction of her throat as she swallowed around me, sucking my soul out through my cock.
“Angel,” I rasped. “Fuck, woman.”
Ana hummed and I fought not to come right then and there, to prolong this pleasure as long as I could. I hated every man who’d come before me, who’d taught this gorgeous, stubborn creature, to suck cock like she was today.
Except today, it felt different. I’d forced my cock down her throat a dozen times over the last few weeks, and it’d never been like this.
Pleasure coiled in my spine, taking away my ability to think and the edge of violence that danced in my veins, leaving only raw need in its wake. I moaned, and I swear the little minx smiled. She took me deep again, and I couldn’t hold back for a moment longer. Pleasure exploded outward, white static overcoming my vision as I exploded, pumping my release down her throat as she licked and sucked, draining every drop and swallowing it.
When I finally stopped fucking her mouth, I collapsed back into the couch, only to be brought up short by the soft pride on Ana’s face as she gently lapped me clean.
The noise in my head was gone. The never-ending urge to kill, to maim, to conquer , replaced by?—
Silence.
I wrapped my fingers around her long hair and dragged her into my lap to straddle me, heedless of the mess she’d leave, and yanked her mouth to mine, crashing our lips together.
“Mine,” I growled, only half-conscious of my words as I devoured her, sliding my tongue along hers and claiming every corner of her mouth, reveling in the taste of my release.
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Ana was mine, whether she liked it or not. And I didn’t intend to let her go.
I adjusted her, bringing her hot, sweet cunt back to my cock.
She sighed against my mouth, and I pulled back, holding her gaze. She searched my eyes, then ran her hands down my chest, looking away and flushing, as if embarrassed at what she’d done. I took a moment to admire the pretty picture she made, the lace, leather, and silk emphasizing her curves, before drawing her lips to mine for a sweet kiss. They parted, and I resisted the temptation to deepen the kiss, instead, bringing her down gently.
“This isn’t terribly practical,” I teased as I traced my fingers over the harness that crossed her back. “It’s stunning, though.”
She hummed and laid her cheek on my shoulder, and I kept stroking her back. This was everything I’d ever wanted. She was everything I’d ever wanted—everything we’d ever wanted, the missing piece to the puzzle that made up Valentin and me.
I slid one hand between her thighs from behind, eliciting the cutest fucking gasp when I traced her slit through the silk of her thong.
“Sir,” she breathed against my neck. “What are—” She moaned when I pushed the silk aside so I could play with her clit. “Sir, please!”
The door opened, and that fucking woman exclaimed, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
My gun was in my hand and aimed at the woman before I could even think. She dropped the bundle of clothes and stared at me with wide eyes.
Ana sat up, still straddling me. I let the feel of her cunt sliding over my cock distract me for a moment, the sight of her gorgeous tits jiggling right in front of my face, begging for me to lean forward and take a nipple into my mouth and suck.
She leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around mine on the stock of the gun.
“Chloe, you fucking idiot,” she said softly, her face sympathetic rather than furious.
When Ana tugged the gun out of my hand, I let her. Her eyes flicked to me in shock for a second, before focusing back on the young woman in front of us.
Ana clicked the safety on, then set the gun on the glass table in front of us. She walked over to the girl and pinched her chin, forcing her to look Ana in the eyes. I tore my gaze away from Ana’s perfect curves, the way her garter strap bisected the cheeks of her ass, to watch the scene before me.
“You are so fucking lucky, Chloe, that you have choices.”
Chloe didn’t say a word, just stared mutinously at the woman who’d saved her life. Again.
“One day, you might not. And I hope you remember this day, when a man would have murdered you, and a woman saved your life.”
Chimes rang out softly. Someone else had entered the boutique.
“Ana,” I warned, reaching for my gun and thumbing the safety off.
A blonde woman burst through the door—Sofia Russo, no, Oscuro, whose husband shot my brother. One of her three husbands had shot my brother.
Ana glared at me over her shoulder. “Don’t you fucking dare shoot my best friend, Angelo!”
“Ana!” Sofia embraced her, tugging her away from Chloe. I snatched a silk robe from the pile of clothes on the floor and draped it over my woman, sliding it up over her arms and hiding her delectable skin from our newly arrived audience.
Ana stiffened and stepped away from the other woman, letting go of her hands. “Sofia,” she murmured, the nervous tremble in her voice barely perceptible.
I tied the robe around Ana’s waist and tugged her back against my torso, unwilling to let these interlopers gaze upon Ana’s beauty.
“Luca called,” Sofia continued. “He’s worried.”
I waited, furious at how uncertain I was of Ana’s response, wishing we’d had more time to train her, to break her, so there’d be no doubt in her mind who she belonged to.
“He should be,” Ana answered tartly. “Chloe tried to commit suicide-by-mouthiness. Twice .”
I blinked, my shock at Ana’s loyalty rendering me speechless.
“How are you?” Sofia asked, cupping her friend’s cheek, as if she had a right to touch what was mine. My fingers clenched on my thighs. Murdering Sofia Russo to keep her quiet if Ana said something fucking stupid, like she didn’t belong to me, like she wasn’t mine, wasn’t an option.
But if Ana walked out of here with her, I might do it anyway—whatever it took to keep my angel in my arms and in my life.
Ana raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine. I’d be better if Angelo and I could replace my wardrobe in peace, like we wanted to.”
Sofia’s gaze turned to me, her midnight blue eyes icy cool. The women were so similar—utterly in control of themselves and master manipulators. But where Sofia ran cold, Ana was hot hot hot. And I fuckin’ loved it.
“Come home with me,” Sofia said. “I’ll give you anything you need in the short term, and then we can figure out what’s next.”
Ana’s posture softened, and she pulled Sofia in for a hug. “I love you. But we still can’t talk about the family business together. Not yet. Not until—” She cut herself off and pulled away from Sofia, straightening her shoulders. “Not until the future of the Costa empire is certain,” she said firmly.
Sofia nodded, her mouth pressed into an unhappy line. I was so fucking proud of my girl as she told the most powerful woman in Yorkfield that she didn’t need her help.
Sofia looked Ana up and down, then looked at me, still disheveled from my earlier release, and twisted her lips with amusement.
“I thought you weren’t into kink,” she murmured.
Ana’s full-throated laugh surprised the fuck out of me. It was glorious, like church bells ringing out, and I knew I wanted more of that. Even more than I wanted her on her knees.
“So did I,” she said, grinning, and relief cracked through the pressure that had been growing in my chest.
Sofia turned around and gestured through the door. I couldn’t believe her husband let her enter the room with me unarmed and by herself.
Dante Oscuro’s presence filled the dressing area, menacing. Ana’s shoulders stiffened, and I moved to stand between them. He and I had crossed paths a few times before. It was hard not to when we were both in the business of murder. I didn’t like the suspicious way he looked at Ana.
I supposed he didn’t like the suspicious way I eyed his wife, either.
“Um,” Chloe said, “could you maybe pay for those clothes before it turns into a bloodbath in here?”
Sofia fought to hide her smile. She leaned forward to kiss Ana on the cheek. “Come over to dinner tonight.”
I scoffed. “Your husband murdered her father. This asshole,” I gestured at Dante, “was there.”
As was I. I hadn’t stopped it. Gio Costa was a scumbag, and he deserved what happened to him.
“I have an empire to rebuild,” Ana said quietly. “An empire that your family is responsible for destroying. There can be no public forgiveness. Not yet.”
An empire to rebuild. Fuck, Ana was all in, and I hardened again at the thought of her conquering Yorkfield at my side.
“You know you’ll always have a safe harbor with us,” Dante told her. I bristled until Ana laid her hand on my arm.
“A safe harbor isn’t what I need right now, Oscuro.”
She embraced Sofia once again.
“How can I get in touch with you?” Sofia demanded. “You don’t answer your phone.”
Because she didn’t have one anymore.
Ana tensed, and then, to my surprise, relaxed, tucking herself tightly against my body. “Call Angelo if you need me.”
Sofia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Dante did the same to her as I did to Ana, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He met my eye with a wry smile. “Take care of our girl.”
“ My girl,” I snapped, no longer able to contain myself.
“Your girl,” he conceded.
Sofia’s expression was less sanguine, but she didn’t push back. “Is that true Ana?”
The silence stretched long, and the possibility of violence ratcheted higher and higher the longer we waited.
“Yeah, it’s true.”
Valentin joined us for lunch, sliding into the booth beside Ana. She looked up at him expectantly, and he grinned before crushing his lips down onto hers, devouring her, sliding his arm around her back to press her closer. She dragged her fingers along his scalp, then pressed them into his neck, digging into the skin as she arched her back, as if she could meld herself into his body, if only she tried hard enough.
By the time he released her, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were swollen and bruised, and I couldn’t hide my grin.
Valentin lifted my hand and pressed his lips against the back of it.
“ Salut ,” he murmured. Hello.
“You, uh, have blood on the cuffs of your shirt,” Ana murmured.
“ Merde. ”
“Just take your jacket off and roll the sleeves up,” she instructed, as if she’d had a lifetime of experience managing men who were rude enough to bring violence to the table. I supposed she had.
Valentin quickly complied, and both my gaze and Ana’s turned to his corded forearms.
He smirked, the fucker, and clenched his fingers.
Ana burst into laughter, and he looked down at her with delighted surprise.
Good. I wasn’t the only one affected by her joyous outbursts, not the only one who wanted more of them.
“How was your morning?” he asked.
Ana scoffed.
I liked this version of her, confident, competent, and utterly mine .
She recounted our run-in with the Russo clan in the boutique, leaving out Chloe’s insults, and my threats on Chloe’s life.
“You’ve publicly allied yourself with us,” Valentin said softly, his Ivorian accent stronger than usual.
“I’m a Costa,” Ana said. “And so are you. And I hate what you’re requiring me to do to stay a Costa, but I can’t—” She stopped and tapped a finger on the table. “My father employed hundreds of people, supported their families, kept them safe from the rapacious greed of the other families. And they deserve better than to be trampled because you assholes don’t know what you’re doing.”
She cast her eyes down when she finished speaking, as if she were worried about how we’d react, like she was uncertain of the rules in this public place.
Valentin met my eyes, and we had a long silent conversation. He liked this version of Ana too, but he also liked her on her knees, crying, and begging him to hurt her again. And there was no place in our odd little family for a woman who couldn’t meet our needs—or whose needs we couldn’t meet ourselves.
“Are you done shopping, Ana?” he asked her, deceptively casual in his delivery.
She frowned. “More or less. I still need a purse, shoes, and jewelry.” She twisted her lips. “And an appointment with an aesthetician for personal grooming.”
Valentin’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “No need,” he murmured. “We like your pussy exactly the way it is.”
Ana’s expression softened and gratitude flickered in her gorgeous green eyes. “I want to,” she admitted softly.
“For us?” Valentin asked, wonder in his voice.
Ana blushed and nodded.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Do you want me to order you to do it?”
She nodded again, refusing to meet either of our eyes, and it was so fucking adorable I wanted to sweep her into my arms and reassure her that her cunt was delicious no matter what. But that’s not what she needed, was it?
“Do you want to start visiting the widows tonight?” he asked her, rubbing his chin in thought.
Ana stiffened beside him. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Then you’ll follow my instructions and groom yourself to my exact specifications.”
She opened her mouth.
“Don’t. Not unless you want me to punish you here, in public.”
Ana’s breath quickened, and she shifted in her seat.
Valentin smiled down at her, his expression amused and cruel. “Or is that what you want, princess?”
Ana clenched her jaw and perused the menu, pretending that she didn’t need to answer, as if she had the right to choose what she ate. Give her an inch of freedom, and the little brat would take a mile.
“Angel,” I said, annoyance whipping through me, “what are the rules?”
She furrowed her brow. “Perfect obedience, speak only when spoken to, and you own my orgasms.”
“And who owns you?”
To my surprise, my angel’s eyes were clear and bright when she looked up at me. She closed the menu, and then smiled the sweet smile she’d given me earlier, when I’d defended her against that bitch at the boutique.
“You do, sir.” Her eyes cut to Valentin, who didn’t bother concealing his cruel smile. “And you, ma?tre .”
“That’s right, angel. You wear what we tell you, you eat what we tell you, and you fucking suck our cocks when we tell you.”
Her lips parted, and her breath sped up. Did she want me to tell her what to do, play with her, right here, in the restaurant?
“Yes, sir,” she breathed.
Valentin slid a hand up her back and tangled it in her hair, wrenching her head backward and exposing her neck. “Is that all?”
“No, ma?tre. I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry, ma?tre .” She rushed the words out, as if she were afraid we’d punish her.
We would.
But not here.
“That’s my good fucking girl,” I murmured, and to my surprise, she melted in Valentin’s grip, releasing the tension in her shoulders and scooting closer to him. He nipped her earlobe, and she yelped, then shifted in her seat, revealing how much it turned her on. Did she even realize what she was doing? How much she craved our control?
“Thank you, ma?tre ,” she said, and I had to hold in a moan. “Thank you, sir.”
“This afternoon, you’ll go to the stylist and get your hair bleached back to blonde and your body waxed,” I told her. “To our specifications.”
“Yes, sir.”