Chapter 27 #2
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Dark hair fanned across the pillow, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with something that wasn't just want.
I ran my hand up the inside of her thigh slowly, watching her breath catch.
When I cupped her she was already wet and she made a soft sound and pressed into my hand like she couldn't help it.
I stroked her there, unhurried, feeling her slick heat against my fingers until she was rocking her hips and her hands were fisting the sheets.
"Nico,” she panted as I pressed two fingers inside her and felt her clench around me, her back arching off the bed.
I worked her open slowly. I watched her face the whole time, the way her lips parted and her brow creased and she tried to muffle the sounds she was making.
I pulled my fingers free and she made a noise of protest that cut off when I moved down her body and put my mouth on her pussy instead.
She gasped. Her thighs tensed around my head and I pinned them open with my forearms and took my time, licking into her, loving the sounds she made when I hit the right spot. She tried to muffle herself against her wrist and I reached up and pulled her arm away.
"Don't." I looked up at her. "I want to hear you."
Her head fell back. I felt the moment she stopped trying to hold herself together and I worked her through it. Slow and relentless, until she was shaking and crying out and coming apart against my mouth.
I kissed back up her body while she was still trembling.
When I settled between her thighs she reached for me immediately, her hand wrapping around my cock, and I let her stroke me for a moment before I caught her wrist and pinned it to the mattress.
"Look at me," I said.
Her eyes met mine.
I pushed inside her slowly. She was tight and soaking wet and she took me inch by inch, her breath coming in short stuttered pulls, her free hand gripping my shoulder hard enough to bruise.
I kept my eyes on her face the whole time, watching her adjust to the stretch of me until I was buried to the root and we were both completely still.
"Okay?" I asked.
“The best I’ve been all night.”
I started to move.
It wasn't like the other times. This was something else.
I fucked her slowly, deeply, my hands on her like they had somewhere specific to be, her hip, her waist, the curve of her jaw when I tilted her face up to kiss her.
She wrapped her legs around me and tilted her pelvis and took me deeper and I groaned against her mouth.
I reached between us and pressed my thumb to her clit and she clenched around my cock instantly, a broken sound leaving her throat. I kept the pressure steady and the pace unhurried and felt her build again beneath me, her whole body tightening, her nails scoring down my back.
She came the second time with her face pressed to my neck, my name wrecked across her lips, and I followed her over that edge with my forehead against hers, burying myself deep and holding there while I spilled inside her. “God, Emilia,” I said as the last tremor left my body.
Her fingers traced slow patterns on my arm in the dark and I lay there thinking about what she'd said. Make love to me. She’d never used those words before.
"I love you," I whispered into the darkness, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I'd been thinking them for weeks but hadn't dared say them. Hadn't wanted to scare her, to make her think it was some kind of manipulation.
She went still against me. For a long moment, she didn't move, didn't speak, and I wondered if I'd made a terrible mistake. Then she lifted her head, her dark eyes finding mine in the lamplight.
"I love you too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think I could. I didn't think I was capable of it after everything that had happened. But I do. I love you, Nico."
Relief flooded through me. "Say it again."
"I love you." She smiled, that genuine smile that transformed her whole face. "I love you, Niccolò Venosa."
I pulled her back down, holding her tight against me. "I'm going to keep you safe, amore. I swear it. Your father, the Cardones, the Russos, anyone who tries to hurt you will have to go through me first."
"I know." She pressed a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. "I trust you."
Those three words meant more than “I love you.” Trust was harder for her than love. Trust had been beaten out of her by years of abuse, of betrayal, of being let down by everyone who was supposed to protect her. And she was giving it to me.
We lay in quiet stillness, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking and our confessions, knowing that this was only the beginning of something that had the power to save us both or destroy us completely. The danger wasn't over. In fact, it was probably just beginning. But we'd face it together.
"When do we get my sisters?" she asked after a while.
"Tomorrow. I'll have Antonio put together a team. We'll make it clean and fast. They'll be here before your father even knows they're gone."
"He'll retaliate."
"Let him. He's going to retaliate anyway. At least this way we control the narrative, and we have leverage of our own." I kissed the top of her head. "Sleep, amore. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."
She snuggled closer, her breathing evening out as sleep began to take her. Just before she drifted off completely, she murmured, "Thank you for the stockings. For including me in your family traditions. For making me feel like I belong."
"You do belong. You're a Venosa now."
And she was. Not just in name, but in truth. My wife, my partner, the woman I loved. The woman I would burn the entire city down to protect.
As she slept in my arms, I stared at the ceiling, my mind already working through the logistics of extracting her sisters, fortifying our defences, and preparing for the war that was coming.
Vincent Carminatti had made a fatal mistake when he'd hit his daughter.
He'd underestimated her, dismissed her as weak, as controllable.
But Emilia wasn't weak. She was a survivor, a warrior, a queen. And she was mine.
Tomorrow, we'll start building our empire together. Tonight, I held her close and let myself feel something I hadn't felt in years.
Hope.