Chapter 41
Forty- One
“Love doesn’t bloom, it burns, and once the fire starts, you either feed the flame... or watch everything else turn to ash.”–Cyan MacBrady.
As I cradle my Dove in my arms, she molds against me.
This woman–she’s made for me, carved by the universe with my hands in mind.
I feel the exact moment she slips into sleep, her breathing evening out against my neck.
With everything going on in my life, holding her unleashes a quiet peace inside me.
My desire for her has grown beyond the physical; it’s an addiction, to her presence, her warmth, her very existence.
We reach the bedroom. I lower her onto the mattress with care, and she turns onto her side, so trusting.
I can’t stop myself from tracing a finger along the curve of her cheek…
down the underside of her neck… over the bronze skin that glows even in daylight.
The way she surrendered to me while I fucked her.
Aye, she’s unquestionably mine. I meant to draw her a bath, to worship every inch of her curvy body, but the intensity of what we did in the car drained her.
I bend down, brush my lips against hers, unable to resist even a sleeping kiss from her full, alluring lips.
I take care and undress her—her torn dress, her bra, her ripped panties.
A yellow set today. That little compulsive habit of hers tugs a smile from me.
As I adjust the covers over her naked body, she curls into a pillow, puckering her bum just enough that I drag my hand over the perfect curve of her ass.
The urge to take her again pulses hot through my veins, but she needs rest.
I strip and slide in beside her. Aria curls into my chest; even in sleep she can’t resist our connection.
My phone rips me from sleep. I jolt awake, reaching out. Aria’s side of the bed is cold. Christ. I can’t remember the last time I took a nap in the middle of the day and didn’t hear her move. Troy’s name flashes across the screen. “Troy, what’s up?” I grunt, still groggy.
“C, I know you said you’re spending the day with Aria, but we’ve got a situation. Meeting at Collin’s. Everyone’s already here.”
“Right. I’ll be there in twenty.” I hang up and swing my legs out of bed. My clothes are folded on the bedside table–Aria’s work. I slept through her moving around. That never happens. The last time I slept this sound was when I was a snot-nose kid.
Pulling on joggers, a tee, and running shoes, then head downstairs.
Halfway to the kitchen, a smell hits me: savory, mouthwatering.
. I follow the scent and find Aria at the counter, guiding pasta dough through pasta maker.
She’s so focused she doesn’t even notice me.
She’s cooking? For me. I step behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. “Oi, Dove, why didn’t you wake me? ”
She turns in my arms, those bright doe-brown eyes meeting mine. “Because you looked peaceful. I wanted to surprise you with dinner.”
She tilts her head. “I think watching you sleep is my new favorite pastime.” Unable to resist, I capture her lips in a lingering kiss, savoring the flavor of her. Our tongues dance, her soft moans igniting a familiar fire. She breaks away, breathless.
“Oh no, we’re not starting that,” she swats my chest. “I’m cooking.” A warmth I’m not used to coils through me, unsettling in its gentleness. I reach for her again, but she dodges with a teasing smile. “Later, Cyan. I don’t want my sauce to burn.”
She turns back to the machine. “I found the pasta attachment. Rosa must’ve stocked your kitchen. I’m making my Nonna’s lasagna.”
My possessive side wants to haul her onto the dining table and feast on her instead, but I rein myself in. “Aye, that’s Rosa’s doing,” I wish I could stay and watch her. “Listen, Dove… today was meant for us. But I’ve got to duck out for a bit. Emergency meeting at Collin’s.”
Her smile falters. “You’re leaving?”
“Just for a little while. Then I’m all yours.”
Her smile returns, soft and warm. “Good. Dinner will be ready when you get back.”
I lean in, grazing her ear with my teeth. “Can’t wait to have you for dessert.”
She leans into me, and I can’t help but give that delectable ass of hers a squeeze . Pulling away I leave before I change my mind about the meeting at all.
Jogging over to Collin’s, I pass a few foot soldiers who nod showing their respect. A reminder of the war simmering between us and the Rizzotto syndicate, always waiting, almost ready to ignite.
***
Collin’s place is the opposite of mine, my brother lives like a ghost. Stackable lawn chairs in the breakfast nook.
A bed in the bedroom. Only one anomaly—his grand piano dominating the living room.
He plays it with a precision that borders on haunting.
Walking into the living room I see the lads, all sitting with awkward posture on the plastic chairs like misfit kings.
“Right, I’m here,” I announce. “Let’s make this quick. My lady is waiting.”
“Wooo, so she finally gave it up,” Gabriel crows. “Had me worried for a bit. Mighty Cyan MacBrady having to work for pussy.”
“You’re a real piece of work,” I shoot back. “I hope Collin’s dodgy chair gives out under your weight. One day, you’ll meet a woman who’ll rip yer balls off for all the pussy you’ve chased.”
Gabriel clutches his chest theatrically. “One pussy for life? You must hate me, cursing me like that.”
“Aria wasn’t wrong… you’re the King of Whores,” I smirk.
“Damn right,” Gabriel grins.
I cut the banter it’s time to get down to business. “Alright, lads. What’s the emergency?”
Troy straightens, his tone turning steel. “It ain’t good. Our guy in New York says the DA was ready to swoop in on Lorenzo…full racketeering charges. But the bastard disappeared. Someone tipped him off.”
“Corrupt system,” Collin mutters. “Cuts both ways.”
“He’ll try to rally the other Capos to his side,” I reason. I look to Sebastian. “Think you can convince them to meet?”
Sebastian exhales. “Doubt it. Word through the grape vine is with the current instability, they’re staying neutral.”
Jake adds, “Tommaso says Giuseppe called an emergency meeting next week, guessing its to rally them to Lorenzo’s side of this war.”
“Then we storm the fucking meeting,” Trent announces, miming gunfire like an overgrown child.
Johnny shoots him a look. “You know how tight Rizzotto’s security is.”
“Aye,” I counter, “but why storm it if we own the place? Troy… how close are we to controlling Rizzotto Holdings?”
Troy grins. “We’re at forty percent. Getting another eleven won’t be an issue.”
“Perfect. We’ll walk into Giuseppe’s meet and force a vote.”
“Solid plan,” Jake nods, echoed by the others.
I straighten. “Since that’s sorted, I have news. I’m getting married.”
Gabriel groans. “Fuck, we owe Troy a hundred grand. Bastard’s right again.”
“You lads aren’t still betting against Troy?” I ask.
“Nah. Not all of us. Collin and Johnny sat out,” Sebastian says.
Troy slaps my back. “Congrats, brother.”
The others chime in with their congratulations, though Collin stays stoic, only rolling his eyes when I ruffle his hair.
“Alright, I’m heading home. Aria’s making lasagna.” The moment I reach the door, they gather behind me like a damn parade.
“We’re leaving too,” Trent declares. “Collin’s place is fuckin’ depressing.”
“Fuck off,” Collin replies flatly. “My place is effective.” I ignore their bickering and hurry home, eager to spend the rest of the day with Aria. Had I been paying better attention, the mischievous smiles behind me would have warned me.
I stride inside… my brothers following and find Rosa and Evie already sitting at the island. Family. Can’t live with ’em… Can’t kill ’em.
“Congratulations, little sister! I hear I can now introduce myself as your whore of a brother.” Gabriel lifts Aria into a playful brotherly hug.
“What’s a whore?” Evie is all innocence when she asks.
Thomas promptly smacks Gabriel on the back of the head. “Language, Gab.”
“It’s just another name for your Uncle Gabriel,” Liam adds with a dry smirk.
That’s all the encouragement Evie needs. She trots after Gabriel, chanting at full volume, “Uncle Whore! You’re my favorite whore!”
Thomas tries to smack Liam now. The whole fucking table is chaos.
Somehow… my intimate dinner with Aria has morphed into a full-blown family gathering.
Everyone’s here except Lucilla—guessing she’s already drunk.
Made a mental note to talk to Thomas about getting her help.
My brothers, Rosa and Evie, stole Aria’s attention like starving strays.
Dove moves easily among them, a goddess in my kitchen.
“This is so delicious, Aria,” Rosa praises after taking a bite.
“Thanks, Rosa. My Nonna taught me. It feels wonderful to share her recipes again with more people than just Tasha and Aunt Cathy.” Aria beams as Collin reaches for seconds. I shoot him a warning glare, which he ignores. My family, all of them–a bunch of bloody, fucking cock-blockers.
Gabriel catches my glare and grins like the smug little bastard he is. “Aria, hope you don’t mind us crashing dinner with Cyan tonight.”
“Not at all,” Aria smiles up at me. “Cyan understands family comes first. Right, Bébé?” The way she says it—soft, teasing—wraps around my cock like a velvet fist. I’d rather be inside her than sit here pretending not to notice Gabriel’s shit-eating grin.
Their laughter, every bite of lasagna, and every second this meal goes on… is torture. The private evening, I envisioned slips further out of reach, and the clock mocks me with every slow, agonizing tick. “I made dessert if you’re interested. It’s my grandma’s olive oil cake.”
I suppress a groan. Did she forget she promised me dessert?
The kind I could devour for hours. My cock is straining painfully, tightening with every second she keeps talking instead of climbing on my lap.
Doesn’t she understand it’s taking every scrap of control I’ve honed as a Capo not to bend her over the table in front of everyone?
I’m a second away from kicking them all out. Thank the universe, Rosa rescues me.
“Aria, honey, we’ll take the dessert to go. We’ve imposed long enough. You two lovebirds deserve some time alone.” Rosa, with expert quickness, slices the cake, leaving two plates behind and boxing the rest.
“If you boys want dessert, it’s at my place,” she adds, corralling the brothers toward the door like they’re badly trained dogs.
Aria walks them out, polite and oblivious.
She’s closing the door when I move. She doesn’t notice the predator behind her.
Dove doesn’t hear my footsteps as I stalk up behind her just as she turns…
“Well, that was surprising and fu-” Aria yelps as I spin her around, pinning her to the door, my hands caging her in.
Her eyes are wide and shining. “Cyan, is this your way of asking for seconds?” Her voice is breathless, teasing, sinful.I growl and claim her mouth, devouring her like a man dying of thirst who finds water.
Her lips are soft, cool, a balm against the violent heat she ignites inside me.
Her taste is intoxicating. I’m a selfish bastard who doesn’t deserve her warmth, her light, her salvation. She wraps her arms around my neck anyway, pulling me closer, meeting my fierce kiss with equal hunger. She chooses the wildness in me.
“I want my dessert,” I rasp as she fumbles with my pants, pulling them down, frantic, eager.
“You know,” she pants, “I might have to put you on a diet if you keep up this behavior.”
“A diet?” I nip her neck, dragging her loose floral dress to her waist. My hand meets bare moistness, and a guttural sound tears from my chest. “No underwear?”
“You said I’m dessert,” she whispers wickedly, “I’m prepared. Can’t have you ripping my panties, then I’m stuck with just the bra.”
I bite her bottom lip. “Buy you more.” I skate a finger through her wetness. “Fucking cock-blockers,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Never mind.” My voice drops to a feral growl. “Right now, I’m taking my dessert.”
I lift her easily, her thighs wrapping around my hips. Her heat presses against me, already slick, already ready. “If I’d known this was on the menu, Dove, I would’ve thrown those fuckers out.” I thrust into her in one claiming stroke.
She cries out, needy. “Mmm… careful. Cyan, sugar is so addictive.”
I’m buried to the hilt, savoring the way her body clings to mine. She’s pure ecstasy, my sweetest haven and my damn weakness.
“Too late, Dove,” I whisper against her mouth. “I’m already hooked. This monster has a sweet tooth only you can satisfy.”
“Not a monster,” she breathes, cupping my cheek, eyes burning with sincerity. “The addiction is mutual, Cyan. Like you, I’ll always want seconds.”
Her words set my blood on fire. She has no idea of the beast she tames with just a sentence. Aria is my rider, my salvation. If she asks, I’d burn the world to ash for her. “Move, Cyan,” she demands, breathless.
It’s as if she spurs me forward. I’m thrusting into her, neither of us patient.
It’s not long before Aria, tightening around me, comes undone.
Her nails digging into my shoulders. I bite her throat, marking her.
Claiming her, each thrust drives her body higher, her pleasure deepens, our lovemaking.
The wet sounds of us–the moans, the ragged breaths, the slap of skin and the echo off the door create a rhythm that consumes me.
Music I’d bleed and kill for. With every thrust into her core, her soul becomes one with mine.
My Dove, the woman who dug her claws into my spirit with a laugh.
She hasn’t realized that it is she that now owns every dark corner of me.