Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Fabien
The present
Like an addict needing my fix, I slip inside Sienna’s room and climb into bed next to her. She’s asleep, and my hand runs through her hair as I lean over, inhaling deeply.
“Stop being so weird.” Her morning voice is sultry perfection that goes straight to my cock.
“Can’t,” I inform her.
“I changed the locks.” Her voice is laced with accusation.
“Good for you.”
She grabs a pillow, attempting to whack me in the face. With a grin, I snatch it from her, giving it a toss.
“I’ve gotta handle business all day, but I’ll be back around seven. Party starts at eight,” I remind her.
“Did it occur to you that I’d want to be involved in the party planning?” Her eyes remain closed, but the displeasure is clear from her tone.
“Do you want to be involved in the party planning?” I ask gently.
“Well, I don’t have the option now, do I?” Sienna huffs, her eyes opening.
“Baby, I don’t have time to spar with you this morning.
” Not that I wouldn’t love to spar with my beautiful wife in bed all day.
“I’ve got ten minutes before I need to leave, so why don’t I eat your pussy, and you go back to sleep for a little bit, and when you wake up, you can wreak havoc on the party planner,” I promise her.
“Excuse me?” Her eyes go sky-wide.
I shift down the bed, bringing the covers with me. Sienna’s wearing a lacy black slip and matching panties that have my mouth watering. “Which part needs repeating?”
She goes to kick me, and I grab her ankle, shoving her leg over my shoulder. “Good idea.”
“I think so.” She shifts her other leg over my other shoulder, bringing her thighs together and trying to choke me out.
“Is this how you fantasized killing me?” I rest my hands on her quivering thighs, my airway in risk of being blocked.
“That presumes you’re involved in any of my fantasies.” Sienna grits.
“You star in every one of mine,” I tell her honestly.
“From the front. From behind. But we both know your favorite is with you on top, grinding that greedy little clit of yours against my cock.” I roll over, flinging her with me, and now she’s straddling me.
“Like last night.” I groan. “That one’s going in the fantasy hall of fame. ”
Sienna rolls her eyes. “If that was your fantasy, then I’m just as terrible at punishing you as you are at being a cuckold.”
“Agreed. But you know how you could punish me? Rubbing that naughty pussy all over my face. Come take a ride and shut me up.” I hold onto her thighs as I shift down the bed, to where she’s now straddling my face.
Her eyes narrow to slits. “Do you really think reverse psychology is going to wo—”
My tongue flicks her panty-covered pussy, and she moans.
Sienna reaches down and grabs the band of her panties, and just when I think she’s helping me out by removing them, she jerks them down, covering my face.
“Suffocation. This could be a fantasy starring you,” Sienna taunts.
My chest rumbles with a snarl as I rip the tiny slips of fabric on both sides, her panty scraps flittering away from my face. My hands find her hips, yanking her pussy down to my mouth. I eat like the starving man that I am, practically mauling her.
“Fuck,” she grits, and begins moving her hips back and forth.
“That’s it, baby. Show me who’s boss,” I murmur against her pussy. And you can’t tell me she doesn’t want me as much as I want her—pussy juice is leaking down my chin and neck, not that I’m fucking complaining.
The sound of Sienna’s breathy little moans fills the room, and I groan in satisfaction. Lifting her hips so she can hear me, I tell her, “You wanna suffocate me with your pussy, baby? I’d die a happy man.”
She shoves herself back down in my face. “Less talking, more suffocating.”
My body vibrates with laughter as I continue to eat her with the flat of my tongue. Soft and long strokes, hovering around but not touching her clit, getting her good and worked up.
Sienna attempts to shift me directly on her clit, but I hold her hips in place. Despite her having my balls in a vise, she’ll come when I allow it.
“Asshole,” she grits, grinding harder against my face.
“Good idea.” My hands grab ahold of her beautiful ass, spreading her cheeks apart. My right finger dips inside, circling her tight hole. It puckers, and she moans long and slow.
“Mmm, I haven’t forgotten that all your pretty holes need attention.”
I gently rub it, not wanting to breach her without some lube to make it nice for her, but next time, this tight little ass will be mine.
Her movements become sloppy; she’s close. My tongue moves lower, fucking her opening over and over with the tip.
“Oh, God,” she moans.
My teeth give her clit a warning nip.
“Seriously?” Sienna yelps.
My growl against her slick pussy lets her know I’m dead serious.
“God, you’re insufferable.” She huffs.
Another nip.
“Fabien, you’re insufferable,” she grits through her teeth.
“Better.” And I make it better by kissing and licking her clit.
“Right there,” she moans, and I give her a very male sound of appreciation.
For nearly ten years, I’ve dreamed of this, and as I predicted, fantasy doesn’t hold a candle to reality. My tongue flicks faster and faster, and right when I’ve worked her up to the edge, I suck her clit into my mouth.
“Fabien, yes!” Sienna detonates, her internal muscles spasming as she comes long and hard.
It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced. My tongue keeps moving until her body goes limp, and I help her off me and onto her side next to me in bed.
“Thanks for the privilege.” Using her words against her, I make an exaggerated show of licking her wetness from my lips, and then I lick my finger for good measure. “Let me know if you’d like to act out any other fantasies.”
Her satiated eyes turn to flames as she rolls out of bed. “I’m adding a deadbolt to my door.” She storms her sexy ass to the bathroom, slamming and locking it.
Now’s not the time to tell her that if the new locks didn’t keep me out, a deadbolt won’t, either. “See you this evening, my beautiful wife.” I hurry to my room, where I have to change into a new pair of boxers and suit pants because my poor cock’s leaked everywhere.
I glance at myself in the mirror, my chin and lips shiny. Sienna says things are getting weird; I say things are getting good.
After cleaning myself up, I meet Saint in the kitchen. “Let’s roll.”
“And you’re sure about this meeting with your brother?”
In a hell of a good mood after being nearly suffocated by my wife’s pussy, I slap his back. “You worry too much.”
Brows furrowed, Saint says, “I worry that you don’t worry enough.”
“How about this?” I tell him. “You worry enough for both of us.”
Lacey and her handler appear, and I give the dog a scratch. “Take care of her,” I say for Lacey’s dog ears only. “My wife does not leave the property today.” I straighten, informing my head of security.
“Yes, boss,” he says.
I slide into the back of the waiting vehicle flanked by armored SUVs, and Saint hands me the newspaper before taking his seat behind the wheel. “If you tell me that my brother’s been knighted, I might lose it,” I warn him.
“Not knighted, but might as well have been. He’ll be a shoo-in for the mayoral nomination,” Saint tells me.
Splashed on the front page is the arrest of the former mayor and Angelo’s former situationship, according to Al. “It all works out perfectly for me,” I announce, tossing the paper. “Angelo has the easy out, and I return to my rightful place in the family.”
“Please don’t jinx this, boss,” Saint begs.
“Now you’re superstitious?”
“After the last meeting with your brother, I’m cautious,” he corrects me.
“Fucking Kirksey,” I grumble. “I’ve got two hitmen on the job, but neither of them can find the little bitch.”
“He’s likely holed up, waiting for you and Angelo to kill each other for him,” Saint speculates.
I release an annoyed breath. “Should’ve shanked him when he brought up my baby sister. Fucker had to have been behind the attempt to kidnap Al at Lundi Gras. What a screw up that was.”
“Will there be retribution for Angelo kidnapping your wife?”
My eyes turn to flames. “You’re a little too concerned with my wife, Saint. If you weren’t into dudes, I might be worried.” That I’d have to kill you.
“Boss, I only worry your wife has been through too much—”
“Don’t tell me what my wife’s been through. I fucking know what she’s been through.” All because of me. If I were a better man, I’d set her up for life and let her live it without me.
If.
We arrive at the Garden District house, and if I’m being honest, I chose this location as a final fuck you to Vitto.
Haven’t set foot in this place since I went away to prison, and entering now, I’m not sure what I feel. I linger in the entrance hallway, taking in my Mama and Papà’s oil portrait. My ice pick’s now in my hand, and I stab it through my old man’s face, cutting from top to bottom.
“If you’re working your way through the family album, just know that I’d look terrible with a facial scar.”
After the chaos of the Kirksey backstabbing, Nic and I didn’t have a chance to talk one-on-one. And from his nervous shifting back and forth, it looks like he doesn’t want to.
I yank my ice pick out of the canvas, giving it a twirl in my hand. “You were more a brother to me than Angelo ever was, and yet so eager to bend the knee for him.”
“Fabien, I was in an impossible situation,” he argues. “To side with you would’ve been my death sentence.”
“And I haven’t decided if you siding with Angelo will be yours,” I warn him.
Nic holds up his hands. “You’re pissed, and I get it—”
“You get it?” I say incredulously. “Didn’t realize you lost nearly a decade of your life and your position in the family. Oh, wait, you didn’t. But you did take my position while I was gone, so it all worked out great for you, huh, cugino?”
“If you think your suffering brought me any joy, then you don’t know me at all,” he says, hurt flashing in his eyes.
Releasing a frustrated breath, I give my ice pick a toss, catching it mid-air. “Who in the family was aware that Michele laid hands on Sienna?” Might as well line them all up, making my retribution more time-efficient.
Nic rubs the back of his neck. “No one, to my knowledge, ever saw it firsthand. There was speculation, sure, but Michele was a capo.”
And I hate that fucking answer. “Why did she become the madam for the family’s call girl ring?”
“You know Michele guarded that racket closely, so I don’t have all the details.
All I know is Jade was replaced with Sienna, and then your girl dragged her feet on getting Angelo all the financials.
Kickups were taking a nosedive, but whatever she delivered must have satisfied him, because he didn’t order me to…
” He trails off now that I have my ice pick angled against his jugular.
“And if Angelo would’ve ordered you to?” I challenge him, pressing the pick deeper to where I’m close to drawing blood.
“I would’ve at least given Sienna the heads–up to skip town.” He gulps against the cold steel.
“Should I offer you the same deal?” My voice is balanced on the spike of my ice pick, now digging harder into his flesh.
“Fabien, I fucked up that night.” Nic releases a shaky breath. “But so did you.”
His words are like a strike to my achilles heel, and I laugh mirthlessly, lowering my ice pick. “Touché. I’ll be in Vitto’s office. When Angelo arrives, send him back.”
“You got it, cugino.” He starts to walk off, but pauses. “The night Angelo was sworn into the family, he slit Vitto’s throat.”
This is news to me, but I keep my face neutral.
“Watch your back during this meeting, alright?”
I nod, making my way down the hall and entering Vitto’s office. Flipping on the light, the hospital setup’s long been cleared out, his office returning to its former glory. Walking behind the mahogany desk and sitting, it doesn’t feel as big and imposing as it did when I was younger.
My mind is in a tailspin.
Mr. Ivy League killed Vitto Calvani.
Turns out my little brother has bigger balls than I ever gave him credit for. Bigger than mine, because that’s what I should’ve fucking done in the first place.
My head falls into my hands. It wasn’t just that night that I fucked up, and God knows Sienna and I have paid for it.