Chapter 13
13
Carlo
Every day, a little piece of her returned. Sometimes, it was an imperceptible shift. An hour—or a maybe the whole day would pass before I’d clue in.
But she was coming back to us.
Slowly.
And every little piece was such a fuckin’ gift.
“Is he good to go?” I asked Giselle, as she lowered her shirt. She’d been feeding our hungry son for the better part of the last half hour on the couch in the living room. I knew this because I watched them.
Like I always did.
There were so many days—so many weeks, when I didn’t think that would be possible. For all intents and purposes, it had appeared that she’d all but rejected our son. She didn’t pay him any attention at all.
But now, the tides had turned. And Giselle was back to being the fierce mother I’d always known her to be. And it made me abundantly happy.
Never in my life did I think that watching the mother of my baby breastfeeding our baby would affect me so deeply.
But it did.
Giselle giving of her body—again—to feed and care for our son—well, it made me feel a connectedness to her that I’d never felt for another person.
“I think so. I don’t have anything left for him, so he’d better be good for a while,” she teased, handing Marcello over to me. It didn’t matter if she had anything left for him or not. Giselle would give everything she had to keep him happy.
I looked down into my son’s face. He was out. Completely.
His little mouth open, a small trickle of his mother’s milk dribbling lazily out the side.
I gently laid him over my shoulder and rubbed his back. Almost immediately, he let out a loud burp.
Giselle looked at me, and we both chuckled. Our son could burp.
I knew there would be more, though. And if I didn’t get another one out of him, he’d be up again in an hour complaining.
“I’ll be right back,” I said in a low tone before I turned around and headed down the hallway. I walked up the stairs and heard Nick and Eve putting their brood to bed. It took them a while. But they had three where we only had two to put to bed every night.
So far.
Hopefully, I could get Giselle knocked up again. And this time I’d get to be around to watch her belly grow round with my child.
Nick’s voice came through the open door. He was reading a caterpillar book to Theo. His favorite one.
I smiled as I walked by to our bedroom.
A few more back rubs and pats—and Marcello gave me another burp.
And after that, he let out a sweet, little baby sigh that sounded almost like a song.
I moved him into my arms and looked down into his beautiful face. Giselle was right. He really did have the best mix of our combined features. Hopefully, it didn’t turn him into too big of a dick when he got older.
I kissed his forehead and inhaled his baby powder scent. Then I kissed both of his cheeks. I hated putting him down. I wanted to carry him around forever. But I also knew that would absolutely turn him into a huge dick when he got older.
So, I reluctantly laid him down in his crib.
I took one more look at him and smiled as my heart grew even larger inside my chest. If pride was a sin—then I was going to Hell. Because the amount of pride I had each time I looked at my son was astronomical.
I turned the light down low and left our room, carefully closing the door behind me.
I could hear Eve’s voice reading now. She was in the room with the twins. I wasn’t sure how she put two babies to bed by herself, but she did it. Twice a day.
I walked as quietly as I could back downstairs. When I stepped into the living room, Giselle was still seated on the couch. She had a large water bottle beside her, and she was working on a blue square. She had an entire stack of them in her bag.
She looked up and asked, “Did he go down okay?”
She asked this every naptime, and every bedtime. And I always gave her the same answer. “Like a dream.”
That always made her smile.
And when Giselle smiled—it made my world complete.
I’d lost her for so long—been without her for months. And for the majority of those months, I figured she was gone for good.
That Sergio had done what he does best—and gotten rid of her. I hadn’t been sure if he’d do the same to his daughter. The guy was fucked up enough to pull that off.
Once again—I took a deep breath and cleared all that garbage out of my head. I’d deal with Sergio when I dealt with Sergio.
He’d get exactly what was coming to him. I just had to find the fucker first.
“Where’s mine?” I asked Giselle, as I rounded the couch and sat down beside her. She gave me her gorgeous grin and I swear to fucking God—my heart nearly tripped all over itself.
This woman.
She was by far the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Hang on,” she said, and reached into her huge knitting bag. She pulled out a blue square that was one hundred and ten percent—not—the one I’d been working on this afternoon.
I knew this because that one had been a holy fucking catastrophe. I didn’t know how she did it, but each time I sat down with her, she’d somehow managed to fix the awful mess I’d made.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the silver crotchet hook and the half-done blue square. “I’m getting so much better. Don’t you think?” I held up the square in front of me.
A smile spread across her lips. “Definitely. But you’ve got a great teacher. So, what can I say?” She shrugged her shoulders as her fingers and hook moved effortlessly in a straight line.
I looked at my square—or the square that Giselle had fixed for me—and tried like hell to remember what to do next. Each time, I eventually got the hang of it. But for some reason it always took me a bit to settle into a rhythm.
“Need some help?” Giselle asked, setting her square down on the coffee table.
I loved getting her help. “Yeah. Just to get me started.” I moved closer to her, and she placed her hands on mine. She moved them accordingly until I got the hang of it again. And then I was off.
Giselle always seemed so proud of herself whenever she had to step in and get me started.
And to tell you the truth, I found crocheting pretty relaxing.
Not as relaxing as shoving my dick in her mouth and coming down her throat. But still pretty fuckin’ relaxing.
For about an hour in the afternoon, and then the same at night, we sat beside each other and worked on the billion blue and white squares she said we needed to make the blanket for Marcello. It was by far the best time of my day.
Other than when I had my son in my arms, that is.
But spending time like this with Giselle was fuckin’ priceless. The first time Nick had walked in and observed me crocheting—his jaw had dropped to the floor. But the man was smart and didn’t say a goddamn word.
Eve on the other hand had started crying instantly, and said, “Oh, my gosh. You two are the cutest.”
Their reactions didn’t mean shit to me. All I cared about was what Giselle thought. And in her eyes, a man who sat beside her and helped crotchet a blanket was in her words, “really hot.”
Not to mention it also got me laid every night. So, really, it was worth it in the end.
We sat like that for a while, Giselle making a perfectly perfect square, and me—fucking up royally, but still having a good time as I ruined my shit. When I looked down at her left hand, I saw something sparkle like crazy.
My heart pounded in my chest. I tossed my mess of a fuckin’ square onto the coffee table and grabbed her hand.
Then I looked into her eyes. “You still want to be my wife?” I asked, feeling oddly nervous and out of breath.
At the hospital, the nurses had removed the necklace from around her neck. The one she had my rings strung on.
I’d set it on her dresser in our room.
And there it sat.
For months.
Until now.
Giselle bit her lip and nodded. “Yes. If you still want me.”
I ripped the square out of her hand and threw it beside us somewhere.
And then I kissed the fuck out of my fiancée. My tongue plunged into her mouth, and I took over the kiss. She moaned, and it was my undoing. I reached for her shirt, but it had fucking buttons. Instead of opening them like a sane person, I ripped the front of her shirt open.
Buttons popped off everywhere. Not that I gave a fuck.
“Carlo, you can’t—” Giselle started saying.
“I just did. There’s no time,” I tried to explain. She must know, though. She had to feel this, too.
Her hands slipped under my T-shirt and it rose up my stomach. I lifted it the rest of the way and tossed it over my shoulder.
She had on a pair of shorts.
Short shorts. And I made quick work of removing those down her long legs, along with her panties.
I sat back and moved her onto my lap, so she was straddling me. The only thing separating us was her bra.
And my fuckin’ pants.
Her hands shot straight to my buckle and undid it quickly. I lifted up just enough to help her pull my pants down until my cock bobbed out, ready for action.
But it was always ready when Giselle was around.
She rose up as I held my cock by the base—and she slid down.
Taking me all in.
“Fuck,” I groaned at the feel of her on me. So wet. So fuckin’ tight.
And since we’d been fucking for the last three weeks, she was no longer sore when she took me.
“Carlo,” she whispered against my lips while she started moving up and down on my lap.
“You’re going to marry me,” I said against her lips. My hands found her round ass cheeks and held on tight.
“Yes, Carlo. I’m going to marry you.”
Her words drove me mad. There were so many times over the last year, I thought I’d lost this woman for good.
Thought I’d never see her again.
That our life together was over.
Forever.
And now for her to be sitting on my lap, my cock deep inside of her while she told me she wanted to marry me—it was too fuckin’ much.
Way too much.
“You—you’re going to be my wife,” I grunted out with effort, trying to get as deep as I possibly could inside of her.
“Yes, Carlo. I’m going to be your wife.” She shivered as her body began pulsing around me.
Already.
“Christ, woman. Wait for me,” I told her as my grip on her ass increased. I pumped her faster on me, needing to come inside of her at the same time she let go.
A few more strokes and—I was there. “Thank fuck,” I wheezed out while she squeezed my cock like a fucking vice grip.
I shot my load into her tight, wet pussy as she milked every last drop of come from me. Her greedy pussy wanting more already.
She collapsed against my chest and leaned on me while we tried to catch our breath.
“Fuck, I love you.” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her body closer. If that was possible.
“I love you, too, honey.” She moved back and kissed me sweetly on the lips.
“Looks like the party’s already started down here,” Nick’s voice floated into the room.
Giselle smiled against my lips.