Chapter 29
Laurie
It’s been months since Adriano and I went grocery shopping for the first time, and not once since has he complained even though I know it’s not his favorite thing to do.
As obsessive and unhinged as my husband is, I wouldn’t change him for anything in the world. I don’t have to worry that he’ll grow bored with me, and I can’t explain what a relief and comfort that is.
Our security remains a top priority for Adriano, so he always switches things up so we don’t form a routine that will make us easy targets, but the risk is always there.
Little Ricky heads into the store first while Paulie stays a couple of steps behind us so they can act quickly. We wait until Little Ricky gives us a subtle nod before Adriano guides me through the doorway with his hand protectively against my lower back.
The first thing that hits me is how half the store notices Adriano.
Some people recognize him because of his violent reputation, while others can feel the danger coming off him, and their instincts tell them to stay away from us.
Adriano’s sharp gaze flicks over the store before he reaches for a shopping cart like this is the most normal thing in the world.
Slipping my hand through his arm, I smile as I mention, “You’d think people would get used to it by now, seeing the big, bad mafia boss is out shopping with his wife.”
A low chuckle escapes him while we move farther into the store. The fluorescent lights reflect against polished floors, and music plays overhead.
For a few seconds, I let myself soak it all in because moments like this are very special to me in a way I don’t think Adriano fully understands.
Sure, like most women, I love expensive gifts and all the luxuries he provides for me, but shopping for food and cleaning products with my husband is priceless.
There was a time in my life when everything felt temporary and uncertain, when survival came before comfort and happiness. Back then, I used to watch couples shopping together and wonder what it felt like to belong somewhere so completely that even ordinary errands are intimate.
Now I know.
“You’re smiling again,” Adriano murmurs, his tone filled with satisfaction.
Grinning up at him, I admit, “I’m happy.”
His expression softens before he scans the area around us again while steering the cart toward the produce section. The way he’s aware of where every single person is, is so subtle that most people would miss it.
The serious look he gets during meetings, the ruthlessness that settles over him around enemies, and the lethal stillness that makes grown men start sweating when something pisses him off.
But his quieter and gentler side that only exists around me and our family and close friends is by far my favorite.
We stop near the vegetables, and Adriano immediately starts inspecting avocados with terrifying seriousness while I grab basil, parsley, and lemons. As I walk, he sticks near me, his hand brushing over my back or his arm touching mine every now and then.
I notice how the other shoppers carefully move around us, most of them trying very hard not to stare directly at him.
When I see a man lingering too long and glancing in my direction, I suppress a groan.
Here we go again.
The second Adriano notices, the atmosphere vibrates with tension.
I’m grabbed by my arm, and my overprotective and way too possessive husband steps partially in front of me while giving the man a threatening look.
His tone is frighteningly harsh as he snaps, “Don’t fucking look at my wife, asshole! ”
“Move along,” Little Ricky says, gesturing with a lift of his chin for the man to get going.
The poor guy instantly glances away while turning pale, then disappears in the direction of the toiletries.
“Yep, go get toilet paper after shitting yourself,” Little Ricky chuckles.
“Stop it,” I hush him. “You’re being mean.”
He pouts at me in the way that makes it very difficult to stay upset with him. “Sorry, boss lady.”
Not wanting Little Ricky thinking I’m angry, I smile at him before turning my attention back to the vegetables and fruits.
I can feel the tense energy coming from Adriano as he sticks to my side, and say, “You scared the man away, my love. You can relax.”
“He was staring at you,” my husband complains.
Holding a bag of potatoes in my hand, I look up at him. “It was barely a glance.”
Adriano tilts his head, his expression telling me I’m not going to change his mind. I push the bag into his hands and walk to the onions.
There’s absolutely no point arguing with him when he gets like this, especially because I know exactly why he pays attention to things other people would normally ignore.
Danger has shaped every part of his life for so long that vigilance has become second nature.
I pause to give his hand a squeeze, and before I can pull away, his fingers lock with mine.
Making peace with the fact that I’ve lost my left hand to my husband, I continue through the aisles, adding products to the cart.
Adriano grabs a box of fettuccine after studying three different ones, like it’s a life-or-death decision.
Just to get a reaction out of him, I toss the wrong brand of spaghetti into the cart while trying not to smile.
Lifting an eyebrow at me, his tone is low and deadly as he says, “You’re looking for trouble, mia piccola farfalla.”
Chuckling, I take out the spaghetti and grab the right brand. When I put it in the cart, he smacks my butt. “Brava ragazza.”
Hearing him call me ‘good girl’ makes my abdomen clench and heat flood my core.
A woman farther down the aisle notices Adriano and immediately whispers something to the person beside her.
It happens often enough that I barely notice, but every once in a while it still amazes me that my husband, who I’m discussing pasta brands with, is the same man capable of terrifying entire rooms full of people without raising his voice.
It reminds me that Adriano isn’t gentle with the world.
Only with me.
Needing more contact, I lean into his chest and press a quick kiss to his throat before looking at pasta sauces.
“You know I don’t like store-bought sauce,” he says, his tone gentle.
I grin up at him and tease, “Just checking if you’re paying attention.”
“My woman wants attention?” he asks as he tugs me right against him. Not caring that we’re in the middle of a store, he grips me behind the head and crushes his mouth to mine.
Like always, I melt for my husband as he kisses me senseless, and by the time he lifts his head, I’ve forgotten in which aisle we’re standing.
“Let’s finish this shopping trip. I want to be alone with you,” Adriano orders, telling me he’s done and everything is going to start annoying him.
Exchanging a knowing look with Little Ricky, he gives Paulie a chin lift so he’ll go get everything that’s still on the list.
I never push Adriano to do more than he can handle.
Little Ricky takes over pushing the cart while I place my arm around my husband’s waist and lean into his side. He keeps me tucked against him and every minute or so presses a kiss to my forehead or hair.
I’m obsessed with the fact that my love language is the one thing Adriano needs most.
Once we have everything, we move to the side with Marco while Paulie and Little Ricky pay for the groceries.
Adriano engulfs me in a hug and rests his chin on top of my head. I inhale a deep breath of his addictive scent and let him hold me for as long as he needs.
“Let’s get out of here,” I hear Little Ricky say.
“Clear,” Paulie calls out, and then we’re on the move.
Adriano shifts his left hand to my lower back while his right disappears beneath his leather jacket, and I know it’s resting on his gun so he can grab it in a split second.
I’m bundled into the back of the SUV, and when Adriano slides in beside me, he exhales a sigh of relief.
While the other men load all the bags, I take hold of my husband’s chin and press a grateful kiss to his mouth. “Thank you. I know you hate shopping.”
“I don’t hate it.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “I love watching you fuss over picking the right tomatoes.”
“I can see it’s stressful for you, though.”
He shakes his head. “That’s normal life, mia piccola farfalla. Me being on guard has nothing to do with shopping. An enemy can strike at any moment.”
That’s one of the few things I hate about our life, but I knew what I was getting into when I chose to love this man.
I walk my fingers up his chest and give him a seductive smile. “Are you going to make us pasta tonight?” I lean in and brush my lips over his throat. “Then I can save all my energy for sexy time between the sheets.”
“Hmm…” he growls before his mouth nips at mine. “You better take a nap for extra energy because I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
“Promise,” I breathe against his parted lips, and brushing my hand over his thighs, I find his hard-on and squeeze it through his cargo pants.
“Christ, Laurie,” his tone is hoarse and dripping with sex. “Carry on, and I’ll fuck you right here.”
Little Ricky gets into the SUV, then we hear him complain, “Oh man, not again. Come on, guys.”
Chuckling, I sit back in the seat.
Adriano grabs hold of my thigh, his hand engulfing it, and as Little Ricky drives us home, my husband’s grip doesn’t ease at all.
Yep, he’s going to make me scream my lungs out.
God, I can’t wait.
As soon as Little Ricky parks the SUV, Adriano shoves the door open and I’m hauled out of the back seat.
“You can carry everything in,” Little Ricky orders Paulie. “I’m not setting foot in the mansion for the rest of the day.”
Laughter bursts from me as I jog to keep up with Adriano’s giant steps.
He doesn’t stop until he slams our bedroom door shut, then grabbing hold of my hips, he lifts me before tossing me onto the bed.
Crawling over me, like the predator he is, my husband shoves my blouse all the way up until I’m forced to lift my arms, but instead of removing it completely, he uses the fabric to restrain my wrists.
“Ooh, me likey.”
I’m silenced by his mouth taking mine with force and hunger, and as he steals the breath from my lungs, his hands roughly caress and squeeze my breasts.
“Oh God,” I mumble against his lips. “I love how much you want me.”
Adriano moves away and makes quick work of ripping my pants and underwear down my legs. His dark gaze burns over me, and I feel the heat of his attention everywhere.
Not taking his eyes off me as I spread my legs, he undoes his belt and pulls down the zipper of his cargo pants. He only has enough patience to free his big cock, before he crouches over me. Positioning himself at my soaked entrance, he slams into me so hard, I shift up the bed.
“Jesus,” I cry, and that’s the only word I get out before he locks his arms around me to keep me in place and starts to hammer into me with brutal thrusts.
The friction scorches my inner walls, and all I can do is whimper and gasp, but then he slows down dramatically, and only giving me the tip, he growls, “Did you like it when that man stared at you?”
I quickly shake my head. “No.”
He thrusts hard, burying himself to the hilt, then rubs his pelvis against my clit.
A throaty moan drifts over my lips from how amazing it feels, but then he returns to driving me wild by giving me only the head of his cock.
Gyrating my hips, I complain, “Adriano.”
“Say it,” he orders, his tone grim.
I quickly obey. “Only you get to stare at me.”
I’m rewarded with a powerful stroke, and my inner muscles clamp to keep him inside me.
“So greedy,” he chuckles. “So fucking desperate for me.”
“Only for you.” I arch my back, and my voice is strained as I add, “I’m yours to look at…” Adriano gives me another thrust. “To touch…” Another. “To kiss.” He moves faster and faster, and when my orgasm threatens to strike, I cry, “To fuck.”
Powering forcefully into me, Adriano shoves me right over the edge, and I climax hard.
He rubs my clit, making it even more intense while watching me with an obsessed look as I come apart for him.
Suddenly, he grabs hold of my throat, and squeezing just enough to get my attention, he groans, “Mine,” repeating the word with every thrust until his orgasm strips him of all control and he drops down on top of me.
I wrap my legs around him and hook my arms over his head, relishing in how good it feels as his cock swells and jerks inside me.
Slowly we still, our harsh breaths the only sound in the room.
“Mine,” Adriano whispers reverently before pressing a tender kiss to my hair. “Mine.” His lips ghost over my temple and down my cheek before following the curve of my jaw. When his eyes lock with mine, his tone is strained with the all-consuming love he has for me. “All. Fucking. Mine.”
I nod before lifting my head and sealing my mouth to his.
Right after we got married, Adriano didn’t lie when he said he would only continue getting more obsessed with me. It doesn’t bother me one bit, because I love being the center of his universe.
“Christ, Laurie,” he breathes the words into my mouth. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you more.” A grin forms on my face because I know what the words will lead to.
Right on cue, he lifts his head and narrows his eyes at me. “There’s no fucking way. Seems I have to remind you just how much I love you.”
I move my arms up and rest them against the pillows, so I’m stretched out, and Adriano trails his fingertips over my neck, décolletage, and breasts.
He worships me until I’m boneless, mindless, and completely consumed by him.
As time slips away, it feels like our souls become one and I fall even more in love with the man who took one look at me and decided I’m his.
Thank the heavens for that moment, for Adriano forcing me to marry him and showing me what true love really is.