Chapter 12
12
Giselle
I ’d put the baby down for the night. Or more like for a few hours. He’d be up soon enough for a little top off before he slept for a longer stretch of the night.
But as tended to happen with lumberjacks’ sons—he quickly grew out of his bassinet. I knew it was time to make the switch when I caught him punching the side of the bassinet one day.
Yikes.
The boy was strong.
I’d insisted on Carlo putting a crib in here. There was no way I’d allow him to be across the hall. I needed him closer.
I always showered after his last feeding of the night. And tonight was no different. Except I’d spent a little—okay, a lot more time primping.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this nervous around Carlo.
It was silly.
I’d been sleeping beside him for months. He’d watched me recover—right from day one. And through it all, nothing had scared him off.
Not sore, leaky breasts. Or having to wear actual mommy diapers.
Carlo hadn’t so much as blinked at any of it.
Instead, he’d given me everything I needed. Even when that meant cold packs at three in the morning. Or heating pads at four.
Through it all—he’d stayed by my side. Even when I’d told him to leave. Even when I really didn’t want him around.
He stayed.
He looked after me.
And he looked after Dani.
And Marcello.
Not once had he complained that it was too much.
That he was tired.
Not once had he slept through a feeding.
No.
If the baby so much as made a peep, Carlo was up and out of bed before I even knew what was happening.
Then he’d quietly change Marcello and bring him over to me to feed.
He’d ask me if I needed anything, and then he’d lay there—watching us.
Most of the time, I fell back to sleep again, the baby at my breast, Carlo’s loving eyes on us.
And his big, fierce, protective body beside us.
I felt safe with him here.
Not once in three months, had I thanked him for taking such wonderful care of us.
But tonight, I’d show him how thankful I was for everything he’d done.
I walked out of the bathroom, my entire body a bundle of nerves. If Carlo had changed his mind, and he didn’t want to have sex with a woman whose breasts still leaked whenever they felt like it, or whose stomach was anything but flat—I wouldn’t blame him.
But I’d be devastated.
I wanted this.
I wanted Carlo.
I wanted us.
When I took one step into the bedroom, I smiled.
Carlo had candles all around the room and soft, romantic music playing in the background.
He’d also draped a sheet over one side of the crib. That made me giggle softly.
But it was what I saw on our bed that took my breath away.
The covers were pulled back, and pink rose petals covered the black sheets.
My heart nearly exploded.
The bedroom door opened quietly, and Carlo walked in carrying a large bottle and two champagne flutes.
He stopped just inside the door and let his eyes roam over me. “Christ, woman. You always take my fuckin’ breath away.” He quietly shut the door behind him and walked up to me.
I’d picked out a sexy, pink lace nightie.
He handed me a glass, and I grinned. “Thank you, but I don’t need any.”
He quickly removed the cork and took a deep breath. “Well, I do,” he said, and then I clued into something.
Carlo was nervous, too.
And somehow, knowing that made me feel so, so, so much better.
He poured half a bubbly glass for me, and then for himself.
He made a toast. “To the strongest, most beautiful mother in the world.” He gently touched his glass to mine, making them ping.
I took a sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling my nose.
Carlo downed the whole thing in one big gulp. And then filled it up again.
And drank that one, too.
His third glass he filled right to the top.
“You should just drink straight from the bottle. Save yourself some time,” I teased my handsome, very nervous lumberjack.
“I’ve already considered that.” He smirked down at me, taking a long sip of his champagne.
I took a few more fortifying sips myself before I took his glass and set it down with mine. Then I lifted the bottle from his grip and put that down, too.
And then—I slid my hands up his bare, muscular chest. I raised up on my tiptoes and touched my lips to his.
Carlo’s arms wrapped around me.
Tight.
He tilted his head and kissed the crap out of me. I could feel the barely harnessed lust under his skin.
And it turned me on even more.
Before I knew it, he bent down and lifted me up, hands on my behind—and walked us to the bed.
His knee landed on the bed, and he moved us into the middle.
As Carlo lowered me down, I was surrounded by the scent of roses.
The petals were cool and soft on my back, and their floral smell grew even stronger.
Carlo’s mouth never left mine except to ask if I was okay.
Each time, my answer was, “Yes.”
Because I was.
I was just fine in my lumberjack’s arms.
“I want to touch you, Giselle. Can I?” he panted against my mouth—and I nearly died inside from how sweet he was being.
So cautious.
And loving.
I gave him a reassuring smile. “Touch me, Carlo. Please. I want to feel your hands on me.” I kissed him. “All over me.”
His mouth completely engulfed mine, and I sighed.
His hand slid down to my breast, and I—“Oh, shit,” I said, trying to push up and out of his grasp. “Crap, let me go change.”
Carlo backed away immediately. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes unfocused and cloudy.
“I’m fine, I just.” I covered my breasts with my hands. “I’m leaking. You hugged me too tight.” It didn’t take much for my breasts to leak. I had enough milk to feed an entire block.
Or one mini-lumberjack.
“That’s all?” Carlo asked cautiously, his eyes scanning my face.
I nodded. “Let me put on something else. I’m sorry.” I started to sit up, but Carlo’s big hand pushed me back down.
“I suspect,” his hands landed on my shoulders, hooking the thin straps of my nightie with his fingers, “that your breasts are going to leak many times in our bed.”
His eyes held mine, and he slowly pulled my straps down. “You gave your body to me, Giselle. And then you gave it to my son—to grow, and nurture him, and keep him safe all those months. When I couldn’t.” His eyes shined in the candlelight, and I started to feel weepy.
He pulled my nightie down further, over my breasts. “You feed my son with your breasts. And I can’t tell you how that makes me feel.” He kept pulling my nightie down to my hips. “Because I can’t express my thanks. There are simply no words to tell you how grateful I am that you would sacrifice yourself like that. After—”
His eyes fell to my breasts, and he moved off me for a second, to remove my nightie completely.
I hadn’t bothered with panties. He leaned back over me. “So, leaky breasts are not a problem. In fact.” His lips kissed my neck, licking and trailing his way down my chest.
Until he reached a very hard nipple. He licked it gently before sucking it into his mouth. When he drew me further into his mouth, I knew he was tasting me. And my toes curled up.
I let my hands caress his back as he kept his mouth on me.
My lumberjack was not turned off by my leaky breasts. Quite the opposite.
And on top of that, he’d told me how thankful he was for me.
And that did wonders for gluing certain parts of my heart back together again.
Carlo finally popped off my breast and gazed down at me. “You taste warm and sweet.” He smiled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No wonder Marcello wants to eat all the time.”
It was completely inappropriate, but I laughed. “I think that’s because he’s your son. It scares me to think how large that baby is going to grow up to be one day.”
Carlo’s smile grew so big it completely took over his face. “And he’s got his mother’s beauty.”
I felt my cheeks warm at his comment. “He got our best features. I’m happy for him—” I inhaled deeply, “but I’m also scared at how handsome he’s going to be.”
Carlo chuckled and kissed my lips. I tasted the sweetness he’d talked about. Then he kissed down my neck again until he ended up at my other breast. He teased and sucked on me—and it felt wonderful. And maybe it would stop me from leaking while we—
“Fuck, there’s officially nowhere you don’t taste good.” His lips let me go and he continued kissing down my swollen belly—and down.
“Carlo,” I gasped when his mouth landed on my heat. I was already wet when he started teasing my clit. “Yes,” I murmured, letting my hands drift down and hold his head to me.
His fingers played at my entrance, but didn’t venture in. Until I begged, “Give me your fingers. I need your fingers.”
He obliged and very carefully slid one finger inside me. Immediately, I felt my walls tighten around him. Desperate for anything he gave to me.
It had been so long since I’d had an orgasm. I couldn’t even remember when the last time I came was.
But I knew I was about to explode in a matter of seconds. There was no hope in me holding off.
“Carlo, I’m going to come,” I breathed out, my voice barely audible. I wondered if he’d even heard me.
It didn’t matter, though.
He was about to find out.
I put my hands over my mouth and yelled out my orgasm. I wasn’t sure how loud I was, but I tried to muffle my cries.
I was not in control. I let my orgasm roll through me. Waves and waves of pleasure overtook my body, and I was powerless to stop it.
Not that I would, even if wanted to.
Carlo kept working me, giving me everything I needed.
Just like he always did.
When I finally came down, my limbs limp and weightless—Carlo rose up, covering me with his body.
I felt his huge, hard length on my stomach. And I knew exactly where he wanted to be.
Right where I wanted him to be.
My hand found him, and I stroked his impossible length. The thought of him being inside of me again, equally scared—and excited me.
I guided him to my entrance and moved his hot, angry head around in my wetness.
He started to enter me, slowly.
I relaxed and breathed through it, hoping like heck I could do this.
When he was halfway in—my body froze. “Carlo, you need a condom. I’m not on birth control,” I whispered to him.
I didn’t expect him to burst into laughter at my request.
I looked up at him. “What’s so funny?” I asked, clueless as to what he thought was so funny.
His lips touched mine, and his smile melted my heart. “Do you honestly think,” he kissed me, letting his tongue touch mine. It made my lower belly do a wonderful flip, “that you give me,” his head jerked toward the very quiet crib, “a baby like him.”
This time, his mouth covered mine in a deeper, more delicious kiss. “A son, like him.” Carlo’s hand slid up and covered my breast. “Do you really think that after you give me a fucking gift like him?” His hand gently squeezed my breast. “That I’ll do one goddamn thing to prevent making another one—just like him?”
My eyes began to tear up, and I couldn’t stop them from overflowing. “You love him,” I whispered as my voice caught in my throat. Carlo loved our son. He was grateful for our son. And that knowledge made my heart sing.
“Love him?” Carlo’s voice rose a little louder. “You’re asking if I love our baby?” he asked in a gruff tone that slid all over me. When I realized his eyes were wet—no. More than wet.
Oh, gosh.
I couldn’t handle that. The tears streamed from my eyes like someone had just opened a faucet.
“Of course, I love our son. I loved him the second I saw your gorgeous, round belly. I can’t tell you how that made me feel, Giselle. Knowing you were carrying my baby. That we’d made a baby together, Giselle,” his lips touched mine, “you made my heart explode.”
I sniffled and shook my head. My heart suddenly hurting. “But you didn’t know for sure, Carlo. You didn’t know he was yours.” I also knew that fact. Or else he wouldn’t have had a DNA test done. Not that I blamed him.
A man like Carlo—with all his wealth and notoriety—would need to protect what was his.
Carlo shook his head now. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Not one fucking bit. Just like it doesn’t matter with Daniella. She’s mine, Giselle. I claimed her. My father claimed her. And my mother claimed her.”
Carlo’s eyes overflowed, and I thought I might just die.
Right here.
Underneath him.
“And we would have done the same with the baby in your belly. Even if he didn’t share my DNA. I would have laid claim to him, Giselle.” One of his teardrops fell onto my cheek. “You know I would have claimed him as my own.” His words were forceful and strong—just like he was.
My lumberjack.
My lover.
The man I’d chosen to be my daughter’s new father.
My hands cupped his wet cheeks, and I nodded furiously as I cried uncontrollably. “I know that, honey. I really do. But, Carlo,” I tried to calm myself down so I could get this part out. I needed him to know, “when I found out I was pregnant—that we’d made a baby. I was so happy. And so determined to get him safe. Away from—harm. I wanted him so much, Carlo. I—”
Carlo was done letting me talk. Because he crushed his lips to mine and gave me a toe-curling kiss. I let my fingers glide into his hair and held him to me.
When he finally broke our kiss, he panted into my mouth, “Thank you, Giselle. Thank you for keeping him safe. Thank you for keeping yourself safe. And thank you for keeping Dani safe. And getting all of you out.”
Oh.
My.
Poor.
Heart.
It was never going to be the same after this.
Carlo thanking me for—everything. Well, it seemed to glue something inside of me back together again. I wasn’t exactly sure what. But I felt more whole again.
“I knew we’d get out. But I—” I started to say, but the emotion caught in my throat. What I was going to say next was going to be some of the most difficult words of my life to utter. “I don’t know if I can have any more babies. You heard the doctors.”
Carlo’s face grew more serious, and he had a look in his eyes that I’d never seen before. “I heard them. And we’re going to prove them wrong. Do you understand me?” His gaze flickered from one eye to the other. “We’re going to make them all eat their words. Do you understand me?”
Oh, my gosh.
This man.
He was just too much sometimes.
“Okay, Carlo,” I said, and truth be known—I almost believed him.
Almost.
I was the one who’d been through all those surgeries, though.
And I was the one who’d heard the statistics blurted out.
Over and over again.
And they weren’t good.
Barely hopeful.
But at this moment, I chose to believe him. Instead of the statistics. I chose to believe my lumberjack. Because if anyone could beat a statistic—it would be Carlo Sovrano.
“Giselle, I missed you so fuckin’ much. Thank you for coming back to me.” His voice was so full of raw emotion that it killed.
But at the same time, it also healed.
“I tried so hard—”I said, but then stopped.
This was not the time to get into what I’d been through.
No.
This was the time for our reunion.
And after—everything—I deserved this.
I deserved Carlo.
I deserved Marcello and Dani.
I deserved our family. I’d fought tooth and nail to get here. And now I was ready to collect.
“I love you, Carlo. And I want you to make love to me. Please.”
He sighed so loudly, I worried that he might wake the baby. Luckily, Marcello seemed to be completely out.
Carlo kissed me softly.
Gently.
While he so, so slowly pushed his way inside of me.
And even though it hurt—and even though he was far too much for me to take—I let him in.
Because he was mine.
And I was his.
“Carlo,” I whispered into his ear while he began moving in and out of me.
It felt like razor blades were cutting me with each and every shift. But I held onto his back and waited for the pain to end.
And it would end.
I knew it.
“You okay?” he asked after a few minutes. He hadn’t worked enough to cause the thin sheen of sweat that coated his skin. But I figured he must be scared of hurting me.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I told him through gritted teeth as I clutched to him.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, and it was then I knew for sure how worried he was for me. Carlo was balls deep inside of me, but he’d stop if I wanted him to.
I shook my head and gave him a weak smile. “No, honey. I have to get past this. I think we both knew the first time after—” I took a deep breath, “wouldn’t be a cakewalk. I just need a few minutes to get used to you again.”
I saw the strain on his face, and it made my stomach hurt. I didn’t want Carlo to feel like he was hurting me. Even though he was.
“Hey.” I placed my hands on either side of his face. “We’ll get through this. My vagina will work again.”
Carlo chuckled, and I joined in. And as we laughed, I felt myself relaxing more.
“I have no doubt about that,” Carlo said before he began moving in and out of me again. This time at a bit faster pace.
At first, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep up. But then I noticed my pain was only about half of what I’d felt in the beginning.
A few minutes later—it was nearly gone.
I grinned up at Carlo and let my fingers run up and down his slick, muscular back. “That feels good.”
He gave me a relieved grin. “Christ, you’re beautiful,” he breathed out as I wrapped my legs around his waist.
He fucked me harder now, and I was ready for him.
And it did feel good.
No.
It felt wonderful.
Perfect.
And so, so right.
“You’re beautiful,” I told the gorgeous lumberjack above me. “The most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Carlo took my lips in a ferocious kiss. “Fuck,” he breathed out, “you’re going to make me come.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Isn’t that the whole idea?”
He laughed and slowed down a bit. “Not before you catch up with me.” His lips trailed down my neck, and then further down to my breast. He licked at my nipple and sucked it into his mouth. And it felt so, so good.
Fantastic.
My hand found its way between my legs, and I slipped my fingers around our connection. Carlo was slick with my juices, and that drove me wild.
And I think it did the same for him.
He thrust inside of me harder and kissed his way to my other breast.
It had been so long.
Too long.
Since we’d been together like this.
I couldn’t move my fingers away. For some reason, I had to hold on to him.
Hold onto us.
With each thrust of his hips, he brought me closer and closer to falling off the edge of the Earth.
Carlo moved up to my mouth, and he lowered his body down on top of me so every inch of him touched every inch of me.
And it was wonderful.
Perfect.
So, so right.
His tongue dueled with mine—but we both won.
Because it wasn’t long after that I started to feel that familiar tugging sensation. My walls clamped down around him so hard there was no way I could stop my release.
“Fuck,” Carlo spat out, and I knew he could feel me squeezing around him, holding him so impossibly tight.
He rocked on top of me for a few lovely, glorious thrusts until—he pushed us both off the edge.
And we flew.
Bright, exploding lights burst behind my eyelids. “Carlo, yes,” I said into his neck as he stilled and emptied himself inside of me in long, pulsing streams.
And I felt every wonderful spurt coming out of him.
I clung to Carlo like I feared he was going to suddenly disappear.
Not that he seemed to mind.
He just laid over me, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath like I was.
Finally, my hold on him loosened, and he must’ve taken that as a clue to roll off.
Which he did.
Except then he quickly gathered me into his arms and held me onto his chest.
I let my fingers play with his coarse chest hair. I laid there until he finally spoke. “Did I break you?” he asked, and I giggled.
I lifted my head and asked, “Do you care?”
He chuckled, his hand reaching behind my head and pulling me closer. “I care.” He kissed me. “But I’m also really fuckin’ happy.”
This time, I kissed him. “I’m fine. And I’m also happy. Thank you, Carlo. I wasn’t sure if you still wanted me—in that way.”
His eyes widened, and the grin completely dropped off his face. “I never stopped wanting you, Giselle. Not for a second.” His eyes swam over my face. “I ached for you. I still do. Every second of every fucking minute.”
Oh.
My.
Heart.
I closed my eyes and let that sink in. I never wanted to forget what he’d just said.
When I opened my eyes, I said, “Me, too.”
He rolled me to my back and touched his lips to mine. We kissed like that for a long while, his hardness digging into my thigh. I was pretty sure he was going to fuck me again. But then he did something surprising and rolled me further, spooning behind me. His leg settled between mine. “He’ll be up in a little while. Let’s get some sleep before—”
And right then—Marcello started to cry. Carlo breathed out heavily into my neck. “At least he let us finish.” Carlo rolled away from me and off the bed. He pulled on his boxer briefs and hurried to pick up the baby.
“You and I need to have a little talk,” he said to Marcello. “You’re not supposed to be up for two more hours. That means,” he laid Marcello over his shoulder and patted his back while the baby squirmed and fussed. “I should have two more hours alone beside your very naked mother.”
I laughed from the bed and rose up on my elbows to watch them. “I don’t think he wants to hear about that.”
Carlo grabbed a diaper and walked to the bed. “We’re talking man-to-man. This doesn’t concern you.”
I smiled so wide, it nearly split my face in half. Just thinking of the real man to man chats those two would have in the future—it made my heart all squishy inside.
Carlo continued talking to his son about the virtues of sleep and letting his parents have alone time.
When he finally brought the baby to me, I grabbed the fussy boy. “Shh, it’s okay. Mommy’s here.”
Marcello instantly stopped crying and blinked at me. Then I blinked at him and smiled. I touched his sweet, chubby cheek, and he smiled back at me. We looked at each other for a long moment, and I felt my heartstrings contract. I loved this baby so much. And even though I’d been a pretty crappy mom so far—I think he loved me right back. I was determined to be a better mother. And never go back to how I’d been.
I laid down and arranged us on the bed, Marcello rooting around until he got what he wanted. And as soon as he started his rhythmic feeding, my eyelids grew heavy.
I did open them a short time later to see Carlo watching over us. Marcello was finished, so he picked up the baby to burp him.
He always did that. Not once did I ever have to burp Marcello after a nighttime feeding.
A little while later, I felt my body roll to the side, Carlo behind me again. Holding me. Close.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever felt more loved.