Chapter 41 – Alessandro
I should pick her up.
I finished my business early. Ignoring the mountain of less urgent tasks, I left my office, swung into the florist shop for a bouquet, and made it home in record time. Tonight’s dinner was going to be a true romantic gesture.
A real date.
How the hell had it taken me so long to think up this idea? I lamented the fact that I wasn’t a family man, that I never grew up with a good role model in that regard, that my life wasn’t conducive to normal events, when really it was something as simple as clearing space to eat a meal with her.
I’m starting to figure this shit out. Pride rushed across my chest. Instead of viewing it as an unchangeable fact of life, I was conquering the seemingly impossible problem—like I did with every issue that came about in my life.
Standing in the foyer, a rush of nervous excitement shot through me. This was going to be the first of many small gestures. As I walked to the front parlor, I admitted that part of the desire to make time and work differently was the beauty herself. Penelope made me want to fulfill my husbandly duty.
“Shall I bring you a cocktail, sir?” Shepherd appeared at my heels.
“Yes, that would be—no.” I fisted the flowers tighter. Tonight was going to be special. “We’ll take a bottle of champagne and two glasses.”
If my instructions surprised him, the wizened butler didn’t say.
I sent a text to my wife and smoothed back my hair once more. Ideas and plans distracted me so I didn’t hear the soft footfall until Penelope cleared her throat.
A vision stood in the doorway. My wife wore that green dress. The soft tones draped her body, pooling around her bare feet, and while it wasn’t a provocative cut, the simplicity was utterly sensual. As she moved, it seemed to have a mind of its own, an otherworldly aura radiating off her that made me weak at the knees.
Beautiful.
That word didn’t describe it, but there wasn’t another that came to mind.
“Don Mancini,” she murmured.
Lost in the vision of my wife, I didn’t realize she was distraught. The tone I’d heard in her voice was etched in her face.
The urge to go to her, to comfort her, seemed natural.
But I didn’t have the first idea how to do that. So I stood in the middle of the room, flowers tipping from my hand.
“I need to speak with you. Before dinner.” Penelope worried the straps of her shoes, shifting in the doorway. “It can’t wait.”
“Talk to me, vespina.”
She moved into the room, her steps slow. I wanted to yell and demand whose head needed removing. My jaw clenched tight. The molars in the far back of my mouth threatened to crack from the pressure of holding back the explosion. That was the dilemma of thinking linearly. I problem solved—but Penelope needed me to listen.
I can do that. For her.
I took a deep breath and didn’t jump to fight her battles. Not until she showed me where the trouble lay. When she gave the command, then I would lay waste to her enemies.
Just as she reached the middle of the room, Shepherd appeared behind her. I cursed the old man for his timing. But the butler was only doing what he’d been told to do.
Penelope stopped short. Her gaze darted between me and the butler.
Shepherd ignored the tension. He went about his business of setting up the ice bucket, flutes, and uncorking the bubbly.
To fill the terrible pause, I stuck out my hand.
“Here,” I said gruffly.
The abrupt gesture of offering the flowers didn’t alleviate any of the terrible energy swirling around us. Penelope crept forward and took them gingerly—as if they would bite.
Cristo Santo! What happened since this afternoon? Did she regret what happened at the office? Dread coiled through me.
Penelope brushed the tips of her fingers reverently over a purple bloom. “They’re lovely.”
She meant it. That was good.
However, it wasn’t the delight I hoped to create with the gesture.
Fuck.
Could I do nothing right? She didn’t like anything I gave her.
“Shall I put those in water, signora?” the butler offered.
“Thank you, Shepherd. That would be awesome of you.” Penelope graced him with a smile.
“I’ll take them to your room. Unless you would prefer them to sit on the dining room table or the coffee table where you read?” The butler was going out of his way to be helpful to her.
I studied the faithful servant.
My wife had done the impossible. She’d won the heart of the old man. I never doubted her sunshiny disposition for a second, but I’d had my reservations about the stuffy old man coming to accept her as lady of the house.
When he finally left and closed the door, Penelope began to pace. The soft green material fluttered around her.
On the second pass, I stepped in front of her and caught her shoulders.
She was fucking trembling.
Dio! I forced my voice to be as gentle as possible. “Talk.”
“Do you know about the bargain my uncle and I struck?” Her words were barely a whisper.
That was not how I expected her to begin. I bristled. “No, only that he tried to marry you off within his organization.”
She nodded. “He said he would allow me a place in the organization. It was my birthright to belong, you know.”
I cupped her face. “Why did you go to him, vespina?”
She shuddered.
“There was a reason. I just never discovered it,” I added.
“My mother is sick.”
The revelation crashed into me. There was a sweet tendril of relief that it wasn’t something worse—something involving her specifically. But that was quickly squashed by seeing the pain glisten in her eyes.
“I told Uncle Tito I would work off the debt if he helped her. Hell, I was willing to clean his house, Alessio! Anything!” Her voice broke and she stopped talking, taking deep gulps of air.
And the wretched uncle tried to sell her.
I reaffirmed my desire to assassinate Caravello. Only this time, I would be the one to slit open his fat neck.
“He isn’t going to pay,” I guessed.
Penelope shook her head. “My sister called to say the operation was canceled. She hasn’t told my parents yet, but she’s going to have to. She gave me tonight to figure it out.”
I pulled her close, but she struggled back.
An ache formed in my chest. I let her have her space and dropped my hold.
“It’s worse,” she whispered.
How the hell that was possible, I didn’t know.
“Mom is going to be kicked out of the Bismarck hospital. The treatments there are the only things keeping her stable. If she goes to hospice, it’s a death sentence.”
“Penelope....”
Before the words formed to assure her that was never happening, my wife fell to her knees.
“I’m begging you, Don Mancini. Help her! I’ll do anything. I won’t fight you again. I swear it."
This was what every mob boss wanted. The perfect wife, willing to do anything.
Only that idea was long gone, replaced with a different desire. I found something better—her, regina mia. The only thing she was missing was a damn crown on her head. I touched the small metal pendant I wore around my neck. This one I was keeping, but I would buy one, properly sized for her head.
She would hate the opulent gesture. Laughter barked in my head as I pictured that scene.
I pulled Penelope to her feet and sat with her on my knee, cradling her close.
“No strings, vespina,” I promised. “Your mother will have whatever care she requires. You have my word.”
“I won’t divorce you—"
I snorted. “ That was never happening.”
“The procedure is expensive,” she continued, not seeming to have heard my determination. “Insurance won’t cover a cent because it’s an experimental surgery.”
“Done.” I brushed my fingers through her hair. Unbraided, it was long and silky. “It’s done, Penelope. She’ll have the surgery.”
A single tear trailed down my wife’s cheek. I caught it on my thumb, bringing it to my lips. This was what the other side of my wife tasted like. The side of her that lacked fire, the part that was sweet and wholesome, yet filled with that unbreakable determination.
My fingers trailed down her neck, my hand cradling the curve of her jaw as I leaned closer. Our lips met, soft and warm, sending tingling sensations through my body. As she exhaled, a gentle breath caressed my face, adding to the already intoxicating moment.
There was fire here, simmering below the surface.
But it wasn’t the usual inferno. It was a warm, rich glow that seemed to burn where her heart beat rapidly.
The taste of her lips was like fresh air of open fields, bursting with sweetness and a subtle tang. As we kissed, my senses were overwhelmed by the combination of softness and flavor, leaving me wanting more.
Blood heated in my groin. For the first time in my life, I was embarrassed by my reaction. It was unavoidable. I was mad for this woman. But this wasn’t the right moment to feel arousal.
Penelope needed comfort, not a rough fucking.
I shifted so she wouldn’t feel it.
Too late.
She reached down and tenderly brushed her fingers over the stiff length in my slacks.
“Would you—?” She hesitated.
“Yes?” I murmured roughly.
“Would you make me feel better?”
My pulse beat harder. Pulling her to her feet and standing to join her, I spoke again to make sure she’d heard. To make sure she understood. “I am going to take care of your mom, Penelope. Not because you worked for it, or you danced for me. But because you’re mine. By extension, your troubles are my troubles.”
I slid the zipper down her back. The teeth clacked as they separated. The cool air hit her skin, making her shiver.
“Your family is my family—and I take care of us.” I bent and kissed the smooth skin of her shoulder. “You can always come to me.”
I needed her to know that, needed her to know I was the one who would move heaven and earth to fix even the smallest problems. So when something big happened, she would never go looking for another to be her champion.
My soul recognized hers as its home, and there was no undoing what had been bound.
Penelope pushed the suit jacket from my shoulders. The tie was next. The slick material slipped from my neck.
“Do you want to use this one?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips.
I closed my eyes and suppressed a moan. Dio bono! How I wanted that. But…. “Not tonight.”
The tie fluttered to the floor. Her fingers plucked the buttons of my shirt, and then her lips were on me.
Each press of her mouth against my chest was like a brand, marking me as hers as surely as she was mine. Her hands, delicate yet purposeful, slid beneath my open shirt, pushing it away from my shoulders until it joined my jacket and tie on the floor.
“You’re sure?” I whispered, even as my body screamed for her touch.
Penelope looked up at me, her eyes glistening with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. The shadows from the lamps caught the edges of her face, illuminating the curves I’d memorized with my fingertips. She was hauntingly beautiful. I was possessed.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” she murmured.
Her gaze dropped to my chest as she leaned forward to kiss my throat. But she stopped.
“You!” she gasped.
I smiled wickedly. “Yes, me.”
Penelope plucked the small metal crown in her fingers. “I thought I lost this!”
Capturing her fingers around the charm, I shook my head. “I stole it.”
“Why?” Those hazel eyes shown, the green leaching into the amber to create a mesmerizing effect.
“It was only fair.” I brought her fingers, still clutching the pendant, to my lips. “You stole something from me that day at the airport. I didn’t know what to call it for the longest time.”
Her voice came out in a breathless whisper. “And what do you call it now?”
“An enchantment.” Kiss followed kiss, until each of her fingertips wore my mark. “You put a spell on me, vespina, that first time your viperous temper stung me. I haven’t been able to shake it since.”
“Ah, crap,” she murmured. “I can’t be mad at you when you say sweet things like that.”
I chuckled and brought her closer. “I’m not giving it back. It’s mine now.”
The smile on her lips beckoned me for another taste. I pressed her to me. Her dress hung loosely from her shoulders, the zipper I’d drawn down revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her spine. I slipped my hands beneath the fabric and gently pushed it off her.
As she unfastened my pants, her mouth moved across my chest, warm and reverent, tracing a path that left fire in its wake. I threaded my fingers through her hair, cradling her head against me. The feel of her tongue against my skin nearly buckled my knees.
“Penelope,” I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sound of our breathing.
She looked up at me, her eyes liquid with desire but ringed with vulnerability. That combination was my undoing. Stepping out of my shoes and letting the pants fall, I lifted her into my arms and brought her over my lap as I sat down in the chair.
Straddling me, Penelope sank onto my erection. As she lowered herself onto me, I felt myself harden and grow within her. Each movement she made, each flex of her muscles, sent jolts of pleasure shooting through my entire body.
No foreplay, no teasing, just the raw connection of us coming together.
Our exhales mingled in the space between us. Pleasure ebbed, and the primal urge flared bright. We began to move as one.
With the heat between us intensifying with each thrust, I marveled at the perfect fit of our bodies. Penelope lifted her hips slightly before sinking back down to take me deeper.
“You’re perfect,” I confessed.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
I surged forward to capture her smirk in a fast kiss.
Her hips ground against my own, and it felt as though we were melting into one another, becoming one entity in this moment of pure pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, almost dizzying, but all I could focus on was the way she moved against me, her hands gripping my shoulders for support and her breath hot against my neck. It was a dance of passion and desire, and with each movement, our bodies became more entwined, until we were completely lost in each other’s touch.
I wrapped my arms around her, one hand splayed across her lower back while the other tangled in her hair, guiding her face to mine for another kiss. There was something almost sacred in the way our bodies moved together, a rhythm as ancient as time itself, yet uniquely ours.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered the promise against her lips, feeling her tremble as I thrust upward to meet her movements. I would tell her as many times as it took her to believe it.
Penelope’s fingers dug into my shoulders, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. Her skin glistened in the dim light, a fine sheen of sweat making her luminous. I traced the curve of her breast with my tongue, relishing the soft moan that escaped her lips when I took her nipple into my mouth.
“Please,” she gasped, her voice thick with need. “Don’t stop.”
As if I could. As if there was anything in this world that would tear me from this moment.
I cupped her breasts, feeling her heartbeat vibrate against my palms. Her skin flushed pink beneath my touch, warming like embers catching flame. Penelope arched her back, pressing herself harder against me, seeking more contact, more friction. I obliged, my hips rising to meet hers.
“I needed this,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word. The vulnerability in that confession undid something in me.
My hands found her waist, guiding her movements while I watched her face transform with pleasure. Her eyes fluttered closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. She was transcendent in her abandon, and I was humbled to witness it.
“Look at me,” I commanded softly. When her eyes opened, I saw everything I’d been searching for my entire life. “I’m right here. You’re staying with me.”
Her eyes locked with mine, wide and filled with trust that humbled me to my core. The intimacy of that gaze—more than our joined bodies, more than the pleasure building between us—was what threatened to undo me completely.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, her voice catching as I shifted beneath her. “You’re stuck with me now, lupo.”
Finally! She was finally giving into this!
“Good,” I growled. The fierce urge burst from my soul, eager to consume her.
I caught her mouth with mine again, swallowing her soft moans as our pace quickened. Her thighs tightened around my hips, her body tensing as she approached the edge. I could feel her trembling, could sense the moment building within her like a gathering storm.
The chair creaked beneath us, our bodies moving with increasing urgency. I could feel her tightening around me, her muscles fluttering with the approach of her release. My own control was slipping, the pressure building at the base of my spine, spreading outward like wildfire.
“Let go,” I urged against her ear, my voice rough with restraint. “I’ll catch you.”
Penelope’s head fell back, exposing the elegant line of her throat as a shudder ran through her. I pressed my lips to her pulse point, feeling it race beneath my mouth. Her breathing became shallow, punctuated by soft moans that grew louder with each thrust.
“Together,” she gasped, her fingernails digging half-moons into my shoulders.
I nodded, unable to form words as the tension built between us. Her body began to tremble, small spasms that intensified with each roll of her hips. I gripped her tighter, one hand splayed across her lower back while the other tangled in her hair, anchoring her to me as though she might float away without my touch.
When her climax finally broke, it was like watching a star collapse into itself before exploding outward. Her body arched against mine, her lips parted in a silent cry before sound finally escaped—my name, broken and breathless on her tongue. The sight of her coming undone pushed me over the edge, and I followed her into that blissful oblivion, my release pulsing deep within her as I buried my face against her neck.
For several seconds we remained locked together, breath mingling, pulses a joint staccato.
Whatever just happened between us, I wanted more . Did she feel it too? That connection that transcended the physical? She had completely captured me, and there was no escape—not that I’d ever want one.
A rough chuckle rumbled from my chest. “I’m afraid we’ve missed our dinner reservations, vespina.”
Penelope sighed. “We could go somewhere else, or….”
“Yes?”
She pulled back, her hazel eyes sparkling from the rush of the unexplainable intimacy. “I can make us something.”
That—I wanted that. “I’ll help you.” I brushed my fingers up and down her spine.
Penelope cocked her head. “You cook?”
My shoulder lifted and fell. “You’ll tell me what to do, and while I do it, you’ll call Luca with the details about your mom. Put him in touch with your sister. By the time dinner is done, and the dishes washed—because I know you wash your own dishes every chance you get—” I plucked her fingers and kissed them “—it will all be settled. And then we’ll take this to the bedroom.”
The sweetest mixture of relief, joy, and happiness swept over her. Penelope closed the distance and kissed me. The taste of those emotions on her lips was like something warm and buttery, topped with a burst of sweetness. Her lips were hard and insistent against mine, radiating a sensation of pure contentment and elation.
I had to pull away, or we were going to combust yet again. “Let’s get moving, vespina. The sooner you make that call, the sooner it will all be settled.”
“Thank you, Alessio,” she breathed. Her fingers brushed through my hair. “I can’t find any more words than that.”
I smiled. “You don’t need them.”
She didn’t. Her heart told me in a language only mine understood how much this meant to her. It was a step in the right direction—a step toward something truly profound and shatteringly beautiful.