Epilogue
Seven months later
The day Francesco Giambrone died was nothing special.
No crazy storms. No celestial events. No manifestations or shootouts.
It was just a day like any other, with gray clouds blotting out the sun and a layer of humidity clinging to my skin.
The only special thing about it was its significance.
The day of his death marked exactly seven months since Renzo took him prisoner.
Seven months to match the seven years Renzo spent in prison because of Giambrone’s schemes.
I held Renzo’s hand as Giambrone took his last breath.
The moment it happened, Renzo’s shoulders loosened, his whole body sighing away tension knotted deep within.
His white-knuckled grip on his knife relaxed.
A drop of blood from the blade’s tip plopped to the tile with a sense of finality.
It brought about a copper-scented breath of fresh air.
It was over, and Renzo could finally move on.
And he seemed to, real quick, when he threw his knife down and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing at all.
“What are you doing? Put me down.”
I pushed my torso up off his back, my hips bouncing against him with every quick stride he made through the interrogation room and the basement cantina. My protests earned me slaps to my bottom, dulled by my baggy cargo pants.
He didn’t walk far. We never even made it to the stairs before he lowered me and twisted me around to face the terracotta tile wall. His arm curled around my waist as his lips skimmed kisses down my neck.
“I need you,” he rasped between heaved breaths. His heartbeat pounded through my back. “Hard.”
I shivered, understanding exactly what he wanted.
“I’m yours. Take me.”
His arm around me squeezed once, and his voice deepened. “Hands over your head, baby.”
I interlocked my fingers on the cool tile and lay my forehead on top of them.
Renzo unbuttoned my pants and tugged them down with rough, harsh movements, leaving my butt exposed, except for a tiny thong.
Goosebumps pebbled along my thighs from the nippy, late winter chill in the basement.
His callused palm stroked my ass cheeks.
“You like being on display for me?” he asked. Every nerve in my lower body fired as his fingers trailed their way close to where I wanted them most.
“Yes,” I murmured.
“That’s because you’re mine.” The first three slaps came fast and hard, warming my cooling skin with their sting. I groaned through it, then leaned into his soothing caress.
“You’re so gorgeous like this, my handprint marking this ass.”
He kneaded my smarting cheeks with one hand, as the other swept over my hip and down between my legs. The moment his fingers brushed my clit and slid between my lips, a ragged moan escaped my throat. My hips rocked into the pressure of his touch, every inch of my skin thrumming for more.
“It wouldn’t matter if someone came down here right now and saw you like this. You’d still be mine. All this wetness is mine. Isn’t that right?”
Three more smacks jolted me forward, the bite of pain feeding my desire, as he pinched my clit. My core flooded for him. His fingers dipped beneath my wet thong, and my pussy lips sucked them in.
“Yes,” I panted. The longer our relationship went on, the more he made me explore my sexual cravings and kinks. A little bondage, some brat taming, breath play, a touch of pain, edging—so far, I loved it all.
“You were made for me. For my cock.” Wrapping a hand around my hair, he yanked my head back and sucked kisses up my throat before nipping my earlobe.
His belt clanked, and his pants rustled.
His thick, velvety cock was hot against the sting on my ass.
It rubbed over my thighs and glided over my pussy lips, the crown leaving a slick trail behind with every grind of his hips.
I pushed my butt out, chasing his length as his fingers toyed my slit and clit.
When one of his thumbs pressed on my back hole, I squirmed, becoming nothing but a mewling mess, reaching for a high that was close but not nearly close enough.
“Yes.” I sobbed.
“Only mine. I was your first. I’ll be your last. Say it.” He ripped my thong.
“Only you.”
Without warning, his cock rammed into me in one swift thrust, bucking me up onto my tiptoes. I felt beyond full, impaled on his shaft, completely at his mercy.
“My civetta. My woman. My wife.”
“Not yet,” I purred, knowing exactly what my baiting would get me.
“We’ll see about that.” He pulled out to the tip, gave a teasing roll of his hips, then slammed into me, over and over. He fucked me like he owned me. He fucked me like our connection was the world’s beginning and end. “Remind me why you want us to wait.”
I groaned, my walls clenching and throbbing around him. I couldn’t think straight when his cock kept hitting that magic spot inside me, lighting me up like a bonfire.
Suddenly, he clutched my hips with both hands and stopped. A needy moan broke out of me, as I rocked myself against him.
“Use your words, civetta.” He bit my shoulder hard, and that spark of pain only muddled my thoughts more. “Why are we waiting?” His fingers teased over where we were joined. “Tell me.”
“I…don’t…know.” I circled my hips, chasing his touch, and clenched his length. He groaned but still didn’t move. “Make me come…please. Renzo, please.”
He gave a few punctuated thrusts. So good. My head fell back, and his fingers swirled around my entrance before circling back up my folds. He smacked my ass, and I gasped, my body tightening.
“You’d marry me today?” He pinched my clit, and my back arched against him.
“Yes,” I said with a sob.
Nothing else existed outside what he was making me feel. His chest rumbled with a cocky chuckle.
“Tell me, civetta.” His godly fingers caressed, circled, and stroked my slit. Every nerve in my body was on fire because of him. I was so close, like a star on the verge of an explosion, ready to break apart at any moment and destroy everything in its path. “You want to marry me now?”
“I do.”
“Good girl.” He nipped my ear. “Make sure you remember that.”
Then, like he knew exactly what I needed, he slapped my clit, and I burst.
“Yes!” I screamed as black dots flickered over my vision, and my ears rang.
I was still panting through the best orgasm of my life when he pulled out of me and spun me around. My back hit the wall, and he hefted me up until I was so high, it was either I fell, or I wrapped my legs around his shoulders.
“Look at this gorgeous pussy. It’s dripping just for me.”
His warm breath made shivers run over every inch of my skin. His nose nuzzled my slit, and my breath caught. Too sensitive, my electrified pulse ratcheted. I tried to push his head back.
“Don’t try and stop me,” he growled. “I’m going to taste you, civetta. I need you on my tongue when I make you completely mine. I want to feast on the best day of my life.”
He wasn’t making sense, but I was beyond caring.
So when he shook off my hold and dove between my thighs, I dug my hands into his hair.
When he licked and sucked and devoured me whole, I bucked, trapped between him and the wall, whimpering through the shudders racking my body.
When he sank three fingers inside me, I soared to heights I didn’t even know existed.
Every burst of sensation honed my need for him.
Every touch skyrocketed me higher toward a sharp peak.
And when he sent me tumbling over the edge so fast and hard that I couldn’t tell what was up and what was down, he caught me and settled me back onto his cock.
My legs locked around his waist, and his forehead pressed to mine, his gaze searing me.
“This is the start of our forever,” he said, voice deep and husky.
With our eyes locked on each other, he lifted me up and down on his shaft, slowly at first. Gradually, his speed increased until he was pummeling my poor, oversensitive pussy, and the veins on the side of his neck bulged from effort. Not once did we break eye contact.
“I love you,” I panted, my nails digging into his nape.
That sent him over the edge. With a strangled groan, he gave one last thrust and emptied himself inside me.
His chest heaved between our shuddering bodies.
Gently, he lowered both of us to the ground, all his aggression beat down by how boneless and sated we both were.
Still inside me, he kissed me like I was something he wanted to savor, like I was the most precious person in his life.
I curled into him and nestled my head against his chest. His hands swept up and down my back as we both cooled down.
“Hey, Renzo, you—” Tore’s voice came from upstairs.
“Don’t you dare open that door any more than it already is,” Renzo yelled.
“What are you—? Ah, no. Good god, no.” Tore made a gagging noise.
“Shut the door!”
“Now,” I growled.
The door slammed close, then Tore pummeled his fist or palm against it. “Just hurry up, will you?”
“Fuck off!” Renzo and I both yelled. The moment we heard him leave, we both sighed, our bubble officially cracked.
“We should get moving,” Renzo finally said.
I huffed in irritation, but rose off him and pulled my pants on. He probably had meetings to attend.
I thought that was the end of the morning’s events until, later on, I caught Tore loading my suitcase into the trunk of Vinny’s black SUV.
Renzo didn’t give me time to question it.
He swept me off my feet bridal style and walked to the car with a mischievous smirk that I couldn’t look away from.
The moment we found our seats, he tucked me against him and kissed me senseless.
“You’re my everything, you know that?” He cradled my face. “With you, I see a future I never thought was possible for a man like me.”
“You getting cheesy on me?”
His green eyes glimmered.