Chapter 15 Carmela
CARMELA
Iwake with a groan, my head throbbing and a delicious ache between my thighs. Memories of last night flood back—the poker game, the wine, the frenzied passion in the back of the car. Heat rushes through me at the memories.
I sit up gingerly, the silk sheets pooling around my waist. The bed beside me is empty, and I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed by Silvo’s absence.
Part of me wants to see him, to gauge his reaction to what happened between us.
But another part of me needs time to process these confusing feelings.
I drag myself out of bed, wincing at the soreness in my muscles. Evidence of our tryst is written all over my body—love bites on my neck, finger-shaped bruises on my hips. I feel marked, claimed in a way that makes my stomach twist.
I stumble into the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror. My hair is wild, my lips swollen, my skin flushed. I look thoroughly ravished, and despite my confusion about where we’re heading, I can’t deny the satisfaction curling through me.
I turn on the shower, cranking the heat up until the room fills with steam.
As I step under the scalding spray, I let the water cascade over me. But no matter how hot the water runs, I can’t wash away the memory of Silvo’s touch, the way he made me feel alive in a way I never have before.
I brace my hands against the cool tile, trying to sort through my tangled emotions. What the hell is happening to me? A month ago, I was furious about this arranged marriage. Now I’m craving his touch, anticipating his return, caring about his safety.
The walls I built are crumbling, and I’m not sure whether to rebuild them or let them fall completely.
I think back to the progression—our hostile first meeting after the club, the tense wedding, our dinner where we started to understand each other. Each moment has brought us closer, breaking down my resistance piece by piece.
And last night... last night was different. Not just lust or chemistry, but a deeper connection. The way he looked at me with pride when I won that hand. The possessiveness mixed with tenderness in his touch.
Maybe I’m not falling into his arms like some lovesick fool. Maybe I’m choosing to walk toward him, eyes open, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
I wrap the plush towel around my body, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. My reflection in the foggy mirror shows a woman changed—not broken, but transformed.
Steeling my resolve, I step out of the bathroom and into the opulent bedroom.
I dress quickly, slipping into a flowy sundress that does little to conceal the marks Silvo left on my body.
The dull ache between my thighs reminds me of last night with every step—not as a source of shame, but as evidence of passion freely given.
With a deep breath, I venture out of the bedroom and make my way downstairs. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon greets me as I enter the kitchen. Federico is there, looking far too chipper considering it’s before noon.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” he teases, flashing me that infuriatingly charming grin of his.
I open my mouth to retort, but the words catch in my throat as his gaze drops to my neck. His eyes linger on the purplish bruises marring my skin, and I feel a flush creep up my cheeks.
“Rough night?” he asks.
I bristle slightly, but more from embarrassment than anger. “It’s none of your business,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself.
Federico holds up his hands in surrender, though the mischievous glint remains in his eyes. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m glad to see you and my brother finally stopped circling each other like angry cats.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “We’re... figuring things out.”
“I can see that,” he says, glancing at my neck.
“I’m sorry for snapping,” I murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m just... this is all still new to me.”
Federico nods in understanding. “It’s okay, Carmela. I get it—this whole situation is intense.” He leans back against the counter. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re handling it really well. And Silvo... I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”
I feel something soften in my chest at his words. “Really?”
“Really.” Federico’s expression turns more serious. “My brother doesn’t let people in easily. But you’ve gotten under his skin in the best way possible.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod, feeling touched by his honesty.
Federico chuckles, that rich, warm sound that’s quickly becoming familiar to me. “Although those love bites are a bit of a giveaway about how your night went.”
I self-consciously tug at the collar of my dress. “Shut up,” I mutter, though there’s no real heat behind my words.
“Good morning.”
Silvo’s deep voice cuts through the air, my heart stuttering in my chest. He strolls into the kitchen. My gaze is immediately drawn to the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, the sleeves straining against the swell of his biceps.
Before I can respond, he’s closing the distance between us, his intoxicating scent of sandalwood and whiskey enveloping me.
I suck in a sharp breath as his hand curves around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
His lips brush my cheekbone in a lingering kiss, the rough scratch of his beard setting my skin ablaze.
“Sleep well?” he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly purr that sends a shiver down my spine.
I can only nod mutely, suddenly robbed of the ability to form coherent thoughts. My body melts into his solid frame as if it were made to fit against his.
Silvo’s dark gaze holds mine for a heated moment before he finally tears it away, shifting his attention to Federico. “You behaving yourself over there?” he asks, his tone light but laced with an underlying warning.
Federico shoots me a conspiratorial wink, as if he can sense the tumultuous effect his brother’s presence is having on me. “Always,” he quips easily. “Although your wife here was getting a bit defensive about those love bites.”
I can’t tear my gaze away from Silvo as he moves around the kitchen with that effortless grace of his. The way his muscles ripple beneath his shirt with every subtle movement is utterly mesmerizing, and I find myself shamelessly following the contours of his body.
“Eyes up here, baby,” Silvo rumbles, his lips curving into a smirk as he catches me staring.
I feel my cheeks flush hot with embarrassment at being caught ogling him so blatantly. Silvo’s blue eyes glitter with amusement, and I have to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him like a petulant child.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I retort, lifting my chin defiantly. “I was just trying to figure out how someone so brutish managed to dress themselves this morning.”
Federico snorts out a laugh, clearly enjoying our back-and-forth banter. Silvo, however, merely arches an eyebrow at me, completely unfazed by my jab.
“Is that so?” he murmurs, taking a slow sip from his coffee mug. His gaze drops pointedly to the marks littering my skin, and I feel my face grow even hotter under his heated appraisal.
“Well, if it’s brutish you’re into, I can definitely be that for you,” he adds, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
I open my mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but the words die on my tongue as Silvo closes the distance between us once more. He reaches past me to grab a second cup from the cabinet, his body pressing against mine in a way that’s entirely too intimate.
I suck in a sharp breath as his solid frame molds against my back, the hard planes of his chest brushing against me with every subtle movement. His scent—that intoxicating blend of sandalwood, whiskey, and something purely masculine—surrounds me, making my head spin.
“Coffee?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. The simple word sends a delicious shiver racing down my spine.
I can only nod mutely. Silvo chuckles low in his throat, the rich sound vibrating against my back in a way that makes my knees go weak.
He takes his time preparing my coffee, his movements slow and deliberate as he adds cream and sugar—just the way I like it. All the while, his body remains pressed against mine in a delicious tease, stoking the simmering embers of desire that never seem to fully extinguish between us.
Finally, he hands me the steaming cup, his fingers brushing against mine in a lingering caress. Our gazes lock, the air between us crackling with an electric tension that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Thanks,” I manage to murmur, my voice coming out breathier than I intended.
Silvo’s lips curve into a slow, predatory smile that makes my pulse kick up a notch. “My pleasure, baby,” he rumbles, his gaze drifting over me in a way that leaves me feeling utterly exposed.
With a wink and a final brush of his hand against the small of my back, he moves away, leaving me flustered and aching in a way that has become far too common in his presence.
As Silvo and Federico delve into a discussion about business, I watch the subtle movements of Silvo’s lips as he speaks, remembering what they felt like against my skin last night—warm, insistent, relentless.
It frustrates me that I can’t shake these feelings of desire for my husband. But maybe I don’t want to avoid them anymore. Maybe I want to lean into them, see where they lead.
Even as I allow myself that thought, my gaze remains fixed on him. His eyes glint with an unreadable mix of emotions, and I realize with a start that he’s aware of my scrutiny. A lazy smile curves his lips, and I feel my cheeks flush.
As if sensing my turmoil, Federico chooses that moment to interject. “You two lovebirds heading out today?” he asks.
Silvo’s eyes flick to me, a silent question in their depths. I feel a moment of uncertainty as I search for the right answer, one that won’t give away the fact that we haven’t discussed our plans.
Before I can respond, Silvo speaks. “Actually, I have some business to take care of this afternoon.”
His words hit me with unexpected force. Of course, he has business to attend to—illegal, dangerous business that could get him killed or thrown in prison. The realization cuts through my haze of contentment, reminding me that our world is still dangerous, still unpredictable.
“Be careful,” I blurt out, the words rushed and unguarded.
Silvo’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly surprised by my concern. His gaze softens as he studies me. “I will,” he murmurs, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His thumb lingers on my cheek, his touch sending a rush of heat through my body.
I swallow hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. When did his safety become so important to me? When did I start worrying about whether he’d come home?
“Carmela...” he breathes.
His lips descend on mine—the kiss is slow and intoxicating—ending a rush of desire coursing through my veins. I feel myself melt against him, my hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as the kiss deepens.
Finally, he pulls away, his eyes dark with desire. He leans close, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “That’s just a taste of what’s to come tonight, baby.”
I shiver as his words send a bolt of anticipation straight to my core. My eyes flick to Federico, who watches us with an amused glint in his eye. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck, knowing he’s witnessed the entire exchange.
Silvo grins. “I’ll see you later, baby,” he murmurs, placing one last lingering kiss on my lips before turning to leave.
As I watch him walk away, I realize I’m no longer torn between desire and fear—I’m simply wanting him back already. Being with Silvo De Luca is like playing with fire, and I’ve stopped trying to resist the flames.