39. Chapter 39
Rory
The Italians left shortly after Cal gave orders that Marco was temporarily in charge. Marco was the last to leave, after a lengthy discussion about what would happen with Elio and Fern.
Despite her attempt on my life, I insisted that Fern was not to be harmed. Cal reluctantly agreed, as did Marco. Mikhail argued vehemently in Russian. Cal told me after they left that he’d been arguing to have an example made of her. According to Mafia customs, since the attack happened in his territory, it was also considered a direct action against him. He was within his rights to demand we hand Fern over, which would have been Cal’s responsibility now that he had the support of most of the higher ranking members of the NYC Costa.
I’d pretty much begged Mikhail to back off, citing that it would look bad on Cal if he overthrew Elio and handed his daughter over in the same week. Mikhail had reluctantly agreed that it could make a poor first impression.
With everyone gone, Cal and I retreated to our room and sank into a hot bath. Cal’s limbs wrapped around me like vines, his hands both planted firmly on my stomach. His fingers caressed my lower stomach, causing tingles to spread under my skin like little sparks. I rolled my head on his shoulder until my lips met the curve of his jaw, where I placed a soft kiss, allowing just the tip of my tongue to graze his stubble. He cupped the side of my face and pulled my mouth to his.
His tongue stroked mine before his teeth grazed my lower lip. His mouth smoothed along my jaw until he nipped at the curve of my shoulder. His hands gripped my hips and he lifted me, turning me in his lap until I straddled his thighs.
We kissed until we were both breathless, my lips swollen and slightly raw from the harsh rub of his scruff against them. I threaded my fingers through his hair and licked the shell of his ear.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered. Delighted, I watched goosebumps raise on his skin. He wrapped one arm around my waist and used the other to push himself up. I wound my legs around his hips as he stepped out of the tub, neither of us bothering to unplug the drain.
He laid me on the bed and feasted on my skin, his hands, lips and tongue never leaving my body. He kissed his way from my neck to my belly button. He swirled his tongue around it before whispering against my skin so quietly I couldn’t hear the words. Watching him talk to our baby, emotions ran rampant through me. My eyes clouded with tears, blurring my vision as he gently rubbed his rough cheek and nose against my stomach. He placed a soft kiss right over my womb. Even though my body had been covered with kisses over the last few minutes, this kiss felt different. Intimate, but not sexual, more reverent.
I grabbed his face with both hands and pulled until he hovered over me again. His hands pressed into the mattress beside my head, hips pressed into mine. I wrapped one leg around the back of his thigh.
He lifted one hand from the mattress and brushed my wet hair away from my face, his fingers tracing my features as his eyes followed. His lips met mine again, but this time they were soft and slow, rather than urgent and demanding.
My fingers dug into his shoulders, his hot skin slipping along mine. He slid his leg up and out to the side, allowing his hips to sink into the cradle of mine. He pulled his mouth from mine and lifted back onto his hands.
His shoulders flexed under my fingers and the feeling of the muscles moving made my arousal flare hotter. Cal’s eyes bounced between mine before tracing over my face. When his eyes met mine again, he shifted his hips until his cock nudged my entrance.
“I love you,” he whispered as he pushed into me. His words were filled with so much emotion, I felt them down to my soul.
I whimpered as his hips met mine, so full of him that it stole my breath away. “I- I love you, too,” I panted. He stared into my eyes as he slowly pulled out and rolled his hips, filling me again. His groin brushed against my clit and my eyes closed as my mouth dropped open.
“Eyes on me, baby. I need your eyes tonight,” he said, his voice urgent but quiet. His thrusts were slow and passionate. This was unlike any of the times we’d been together before. While the other times were just as passionate and meaningful, this time was different in that he was slow and unhurried. His thrusts never sped up, his eyes never straying from mine as he made love to me.
He lowered himself, allowing me to feel some of his weight while he rested on his elbows. His arms wound under me, his hands gripping my shoulders as his hips rolled.
Through it all, his gaze never wavered.
The intensity of the moment caused tears to burn in my eyes but I refused to blink them away, refused to break the connection with Cal. I was surprised when tears began to shimmer in his eyes too.
He whispered that he loved me over and over again and I returned the favor in kind when he kissed away the tears that dripped down my temples and into my hair.
When my lower abdomen tingled and coiled tightly with impending orgasm, Cal finally leaned down to kiss me again. “Come for me, solas. Show me how I make you feel.”
My mouth dropped open and my eyes grew unfocused. My hips moved to meet his when he gripped my thigh, wrapping it around his waist and changing the angle. On his next rolling thrust, I came, my body quivering, my gasping whimpers echoing through the room.
Cal groaned loudly, his eyes rolling as my walls massaged him. “Oh god,” he moaned, his breath shuddering along my cheek as his warmth bathed my walls.
He rolled us, pulling me against his side and curling around me. While the fingers of one hand stroked up and down my spine, the others toyed with the pendant resting between my breasts. My eyes drifted closed as my mind settled into bone-deep contentment.
Cal shifted down the bed but I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes. When he wrapped an arm around my hips, I rolled to my back and he settled his cheek against my lower stomach. My fingers threaded through his hair seconds before sleep took me.
Three weeks. Three. Fucking. Weeks.
And we were still waiting to hear back from the Concordia about Elio’s trial. They’d approved our request, but had yet to set a date. With my emotions all over the place, it had been torture knowing Elio was under the same roof as me.
Of course, I knew he couldn’t get to me. I knew he wasn’t a threat.
But try telling that to my hormone-addled brain. Cal was getting antsy. Between the morning sickness that lasted from the time I woke up until the time I went to bed, and usually all night, too, and the fact that Elio being in the house was keeping me up at night, and Cal was about ready to throw Elio into a warehouse and leave him there to rot. The only thing stopping him was that he wanted the Italians to respect him. Treating their previous Don with respect, rather than murdering him outright, had gained him plenty of begrudging loyalty.
Cal had gone back to work after a whole lot of badgering. Lorcan had basically stomped his foot and threatened to take back control if Cal didn’t stop hovering over me and leave the house. It had been too long since the last fight night, one of their restaurants was down a manager, the brothel was in chaos without the Madame, who had apparently taken maternity leave. Lorcan was losing his mind.
Now Cal was gone for the day, I read in the study until the book got spicy, which caused my hormones to go nuts. I moved to the bath, but the warm water made my skin over-sensitive.
Pregnancy was the worst.
If I wasn’t puking, I was trying to climb Cal.
If I wasn’t climbing Cal, I was puking.
I hadn’t danced in weeks and Angelique was calling multiple times a week, asking me to return. Charlotte visited when she could to keep me company, but she was busy with school and her dad had been acting strangely, so she was trying to lay low. Cal was gone, Lorcan was gone, the guys were training in the gym, and I was bored, horny and lonely.
I got out of the bath and stomped toward the closet, my mood souring even more at the sight of the empty bed. I threw my towel down in the middle of the closet, determined to make Cal pay for leaving me here all day - even though I’d told him over and over again that he needed to stop hovering over me before I punched him in the throat.
I was OVER the hormones. O-V-E-R them.
I yanked one of Cal’s shirts off the hanger and turned to my side, intent on pulling out the oldest, most comfy pair of granny panties I could find.
Until my eyes landed on my pointe shoes, hanging neatly from hooks on the wall next to the rack of tutus and leotards.
I’d told Cal to leave and he had but now I wanted him home. I knew exactly how to get him here.
I took one of my rehearsal skirts, the loose one that reminded me of a fairy skirt, and a pale pink leotard. I pulled the leo up my torso and pushed my arms through, smoothing the material out. I ran my hands over my belly and smiled at the way the material clung to my tiny baby bump. Looking at my belly, my mood calmed greatly and serenity settled in. I rubbed my hand over the bump, smiling softly at it. I couldn’t wait to find out the gender. I hoped for a boy, but I knew Cal was hoping for a girl, even though he’d never admit it.
I prayed for the baby’s sake, he was a boy. Cal with a daughter would be a nightmare. He’d be so overprotective. She’d never be allowed to leave the house or date. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even let her have guy friends.
I pulled the skirt over my thighs and settled it just below the small swell. Originally, I’d thought if I put this on and sent Cal a selfie, he’d come home immediately and solve my moodiness. Although I wasn’t opposed to that outcome, my motivation had changed. Now, I just wanted him to see our tiny baby and this outfit showed him or her off perfectly.
I climbed onto our bed and posed my body before snapping a picture. Nope. I moved and took another picture. Absolutely not. I tried again.
Eventually, I ended up kneeling on the bed, surrounded by a nest of pillows. I sat back on my calves and spread my thighs so that the swell of my belly was obvious. I held my phone above me, my face turned down so the tips of my hair draped along the tiny curve at the bottom of my stomach.
I smiled at the perfect picture and immediately sent it to Cal.