45. Too Late
Too Late
Irealised my anger had many faces. There was the type of anger that came with a cloud of red mist, took complete control of my impulses, and turned me into a machine of violence at the thought of anyone I loved being harmed.
There was the calm, deadly kind I felt moments before I was about to take an asshole’s life.
Then there was the bubbling kind that festered in my veins, brewing at the thought of any man having bad intentions towards my wife, my sisters, or my mamma.
But this anger? It was something new. Something that rooted itself deep in my soul and thumped through my body with every powerful beat of my heart.
It didn’t make me want violence, or to bruise my knuckles at the gym, or to meditate to Cher.
It made me want to bury myself inside my wife and claim her until she was unable to think a single thought beyond the fact that she was mine.
“Sani! What are you doing?” she screamed, her hands clawing down the back of my shirt as I marched into our bedroom and slammed the door shut. But I didn’t stop at the bed; I strode straight into the dressing room and slid her down my body before spinning her round to face the full-length mirror.
I grabbed her hips and pulled her back against my chest, my eyes burning into her reflection.
“Sani—”
“Look,” I whispered close to her ear as I carefully swept her blonde waves over her other shoulder. Her chest rose slightly faster, pressing against her sundress as she locked eyes with me in the mirror.
“Watch,” I lowered my voice to a deep whisper and nipped my teeth against her ear before slowly sliding my lips down the curve of her neck, not touching, not kissing, just allowing my breath to caress her skin.
Goosebumps covered her skin as she shivered against me. I gave her a barely-there kiss on her neck where it met her shoulder and tightened my grip on her hips, bunching the fabric of her dress.
“Sani—” she breathed in a raspy voice, proof of the control I had over her body.
My hands moved up her curves, lifting the dress with them and causing her to raise her arms. I pulled the dress over her head and threw it aside, leaving her in just her lace bra and thong.
I kissed her neck again, this time pressing harder and allowing my tongue to taste her coconut and vanilla body wash and sweet perfume.
“The taste of your skin… is it mine?” I husked. Her lips parted as I sank my teeth into her neck and sucked hard, marking her smooth, perfect skin.
“Sani—Oh, God!”
My hands glided over her arms and forced them around my head. Her fingers instinctively delved into the back of my hair as she arched against me. I kept exploring her skin with my mouth, my tongue, my teeth as she wriggled, tightening her grip in my hair.
Moving my fingertips down her arms, I let them glide along her curves to her waist and then across her stomach.
“The feel of your body… is it only meant for me?”
She tilted her head back onto my shoulder and closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip.
“Watch,” I growled, commanding her to submit. She met my intense gaze in the mirror. “Watch how your body responds to me, Ribelle.”
I cupped her tits in my rough hands, squeezing and feeling their weight before pulling down the lace fabric to sit underneath. Her perked nipples looked so fucking inviting; I couldn’t help but roll them between my fingers before giving them a hard tug. She gasped and squirmed against me.
“Are these mine?”
“Yes,” she moaned as I continued playing. “But Sani, stop. I know what you’re doing…”
“And what am I doing, Ribelle?” One of my hands glided down her stomach and dipped beneath the waistband of her thong. She moaned, her chest rising and ass pushing into my erection as I cupped her soaking pussy.
“I won’t have your family go to war for me.”
“No,” I growled, rolling my finger over her clit.
She threw her back against my shoulder again, and I used my free hand to wrap around her throat, a subtle dominant warning.
She got the message and met my reflection in the mirror once more.
“They’ll go to war for me. Because I’ll go to war for you. ”
“Sani,” she gasped as I eased two fingers inside her. “That’s the same thing.”
Her hands wrapped around my veiny forearm as I slowly pressed my fingers into her while rubbing her clit. “Is this mine?”
“Of course it’s yours.”
The anger within me eased just a little. But I was still furious. Furious that she would even suggest that I should let her go. As if it were even an option to hand her over to Sean McKenna so he could marry her off to some Russian stronzo in a marriage deal.
I plunged my fingers into her harder and faster, her moans echoing through the dressing room as she bucked against me, ass rubbing against my rock-hard cock.
I growled into her neck, my eyes fixed on her in the mirror, watching her cheeks flush pink and her lips form an O shape as she climbed higher to ecstasy.
“Look at yourself, Ribelle. Watch me own every inch of your body. Of your pleasure.” I squeezed her throat a little tighter as I felt her thighs shaking around my fingers.
“If I tell you to come all over my fucking fingers like my good little slut, you’ll do it, right? You won’t be able to stop yourself.”
“Sani!” she cried, the orgasm already taking form.
“So do it. Watch yourself fall apart for me, Wife.”
She screamed, her body thrashing in my hold as I refused to relent. She clawed at my arm, trembling as the pleasure ripped through her, and when it finally subsided, she collapsed forward, slamming her palms against the mirror in front.
“Still think you don’t belong to me? That I’m capable of letting you go?” I groaned, unzipping my trousers to free my raging cock. “Stay just like that.”
I lined my cock up with her entrance and waited for her glazed eyes to find mine in the mirror.
Then I slammed into her from behind, ripping her next breath from her lungs as her eyes rolled.
A guttural growl roared from my chest as I buried myself inside her tightness and held myself there, in my favourite place.
I felt the pleasure trickle down my spine, dulling the anger as I shifted my hips back and pushed in again.
“You should let me go, Sani,” she whimpered, tears pooling in her eyes as she watched my nostrils flare and eyes burn.
“Never.” I slammed into her again, and she cried out, a tear slipping free. “You are my wife.” Slam. “My world.” Slam. “My heart.” Slam. “And no one’s taking you anywhere, Ribelle.”
Her moans and cries spurred me into a possessive rhythm, pounding inside her relentlessly. Wrapping her hair around my wrist, I tugged gently, not enough to hurt but enough to force her head back. She had no choice but to watch how I claimed a little more of her with every thrust.
“Say it,” I moaned, feeling her pussy tightening around my dick, pulling me deeper with every thrust as it tried to milk every drop of cum out of me. But I wouldn’t give in, not until I knew there was nothing left of her except her understanding that she’d never belong to anyone else.
“I’m yours,” she cried. “I’ll always be yours.”
I pulled her back into me, twisting her head so I could capture her lips as we both came hard together.
We swallowed each other’s moans and whimpers as our bodies jerked together in the aftermath.
I let my dick slide out from between her legs but kept her pressed against me, wrapping my arms around her body tightly as we panted, staring at each other in the mirror.
I placed my hand directly over her pounding heart. “And is this mine?”
Her lips trembled, and she nodded. “Always.”
“Then never, ever think of leaving me again. I never want to hear those words, Ribelle. We belong only to each other. Understand?”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered as I spun her around, lifted her up so she wrapped her legs around me, and slid down the wall until I was on my ass and she was straddling my lap. “I’m sorry,” she muttered against my lips as tears slid down her face.
“Don’t be sorry.” I kissed every part of her face until she calmed down. “Just be mine.”
“I don’t know how not to be yours, Santino.”
I smiled, feeling instantly better that I’d finally managed to get through to her. There was no universe in which I could ever be without her, either.
“Drag him out,” Sani ordered his men as we entered his sanctuary with Gio and Alessio.
Sani wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me protectively into his side as the cell door screeched open.
He hadn’t been thrilled about me coming, but I insisted.
Callum was the only one who could give me the answers and closure I needed.
I swallowed, digging my nails into Sani’s firm abs when a man I barely recognised was hauled out by his arms and dumped in the middle of the concrete floor, falling onto his side.
No longer the Golden Boy of Rome, his brown hair was matted, face swollen, and every inch of his skin was covered in bruises, dried blood, or cuts.
But the most alarming thing of all… was his eyes.
It took me a moment to pinpoint why they looked so horrifying.
No eyelids. He couldn’t blink. His bloodshot green eyes were already losing their vibrancy, a cloudy haze spreading over the pupil.
My medical knowledge told me that if he went untreated, he’d be blind within a day or two.
Alessio crouched down in front of Callum’s face and tilted his head. “Ready to talk?”
Callum lacked the energy to even sit up and made a choked noise from his throat.
Alessio unscrewed the cap from the water bottle he was holding.
Buccini soldiers propped Callum up into a sitting position as Alessio lifted the bottle to his lips, allowing him to take a few desperate sips.
But then Alessio raised the bottle higher, pouring more water down Callum’s throat than he could swallow, and then over his face.
He spluttered, coughing and collapsing back onto the filthy floor.