Frankie
Okay, so I might be a little drunk.
But I was allowed. This was my sister’s wedding reception, and whew—this past month has been a fucking ride. From learning my sister was forced to marry a Sicilian mob boss, to discovering my father was dying, then almost losing Emma in a gun battle, I’d say at least ten years was shaved off my life in four weeks.
Did I also mention my husband knew of Emma’s marriage arrangement and hadn’t bothered to tell me?
Oh, yeah. I had been livid over that.
As a result things had been tense between me and Fausto. I was trying, but I still resented that he kept me in the dark over schemes involving my sister, even if he hadn’t agreed to said schemes. Consequently, we hadn’t fucked since Marcello’s birth four months ago. I had been cleared for sex six weeks after the delivery, but I was too tired for anything at the time. Then two weeks later the news came out about Emma, and I hadn’t felt amorous toward Fausto at all.
More like I wanted to kick him in the balls 24/7.
But he’d been sweet since we arrived in Toronto—with both me and the kids. It was hard to stay mad at a man who doted on his children like Fausto did. And it was annoying because they all adored him, usually preferring him over me. Even our four-month-old son was smitten with his father, calming down the second Fausto picked Marcello up.
Sigh.
Giulio said I should forgive my husband. Zia said I should forgive my husband. Hell, even my father said I should forgive my husband. Yes, I’d confided in my father about my marital problems.
Papà and I had grown closer recently, and he understood my husband’s position, the responsibilities of being don, far better than I did. He explained, “He’ll always put you and the kids first, Frankie. Except when he can’t. And that is a bitter, but necessary, pill for a man such as Fausto. Your role is to show compassion and understanding. Without it, your marriage won’t survive.”
And there was no possibility of divorce, not for a mafia don. Which meant Fausto would take a mistress and possibly send me away, maybe to the beach house again. I’d never be able to handle it.
God, the thought of losing that man gutted me.
As I walked around the edge of the dance floor, I could feel his eyes on me. They tracked every move I made, his intense blue stare like a flame on my skin. It was both heady and thrilling—and confirmed I’d made the right decision about tonight.
I was ready to forgive him and move on. These days I felt better, less tired, and being around my family had kicked any post-baby blues I’d been feeling. So it was time to put my surprise into motion.
I needed my Paparino back.
My sister Gia was standing against the wall, drinking and watching the action on the dance floor. When I came alongside her she eyed the glass of Ravazzani cirò in my hand.
“Should you be drinking that, baby mama?”
I thought about the next few hours, what I had planned. “The kids are with the nannies tonight. I’m definitely getting drunk.”
“Fausto will love that, I’m sure.”
He wouldn’t want me too drunk, but he said I was extra bratty after two glasses of wine. And he liked when I was bratty. “I have a surprise for him, so yes,” I told my sister. “He will definitely love it.”
Gia’s eyes swung toward her man’s table, where Enzo was in deep discussion with his brothers. I loved seeing her happy. She and Enzo were so well suited, it was scary. It hadn’t been easy, but I’d forgiven Enzo for Gia’s sake. Yes, he’d kidnapped me to get leverage with Fausto, but I hadn’t been mistreated. Scared, yes. But not mistreated.
And it wasn’t like my man was squeaky clean. Not only had he tortured Enzo, Fausto had terrified Enzo’s kids, Gia’s stepchildren, in the scheme to get me back.
I thought it was best to put it all behind us. We wouldn’t be having the D’Agostino’s over for dinner, but I could be happy for my sister and support her choices.
“How long are you staying at the reception?” she asked, regaining my attention.
“Not much longer,” I said. “Fausto is talking to Giulio and Alessio, but I can tell he’s anxious to leave. He’s been staring at my tits all night.”
“They do look amazing in that dress.”
I leaned closer, pressing into her side. I loved being able to spend time with my sisters here at our old home. It was so rare that we were all together and this trip was making me feel nostalgic. “You do good work,” I said to Gia. “All of the dresses you designed today are absolute fire.”
“Thanks, Frankie.”
“Can you believe our men haven’t killed each other during this trip?”
“No, I can’t,” she said with a twist of her lips as her gaze drifted toward where Don D’Agostino was sitting. “Enzo has been suspiciously calm these past few days. Yesterday I asked him if he was secretly micro-dosing behind my back and if so, could I please have some?”
“What did he say?”
“No on the micro-dosing, but he said he’d find some molly if I wanted.”
See? Perfectly matched. “God, you two are so weird.”
“Says the woman who sleeps outside in a vineyard with her husband.”
Hell yes, I did. Every chance I got. Fausto was a beast when we fucked outdoors. “Hey, don’t knock it. There’s something about the dirt and being outside. Like, it’s primal and shit.”
“Deep, Frankie.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed—and my husband’s heated gaze locked on my face, trapping me. I couldn’t look away. My bones turned to jelly when he looked at me like this, as if he wanted to devour me at any second. It had been so long and I was dying to be devoured.
Come and get me, Paparino.
Gia nudged my arm. “Jesus. Are you about to conceive baby number four right now?”
If Fausto had his way, then definitely. But this last pregnancy had been hard and I wasn’t ready for another baby quite yet. “Bite your tongue,” I said, then kissed my sister’s cheek. “I need to go get my surprise ready before he pounces and ruins it. Have fun tonight. See you in the morning.”
I hurried into the house.
Once in my old room, I quickly changed out of my bridesmaid dress and into my favorite yoga pants. I wasn’t back to my former shape by any means, and I couldn’t deal with anything other than athletic gear these days. I pulled on my tight running jacket and zipped it up. Then I grabbed my backpack.
Fingers crossed I could still do this.
I went to the window. The party was in full swing out on the terrace. My bedroom was along the far wing, shrouded in darkness, so it should conceal me from everyone but one person.
After I opened the window I dropped my backpack to the ground. Then I took the rope I’d secured to my bed and threw it outside, too. Carefully, I climbed over the sill and began lowering myself down. It was easier than I remembered. Ha! An upside of lifting and chasing kids around all day was that I was stronger now.
I didn’t try to go quickly. The last thing I needed was to fall and hurt myself. Fausto would not be amused.
When my feet touched the ground I breathed a sigh of relief. But I didn’t stop there. I had to keep going. Creeping along the side of the house, I made my way toward the trees at the back of the property. These steps were so familiar, as I’d often used the route to escape the estate growing up. How else was a sheltered mafia princess supposed to hang out with boys?
The spot in the wall was easy to find. Papà, for all his talk, hadn’t repaired or replaced the section of the stone with my worn footholds. God bless that man. It made this all that much easier. I tossed my pack over the wall and heard it land on the other side. Then I began climbing, the stone rough on my fingers. When I reached the top I threw my legs over and started to drop.
A hand closed around my ankle, just as I’d hoped it would. I sucked in an excited breath, my heart pounding a steady rhythm in my chest. I kicked my leg. “Stop it! Let me go!”
The fingers tightened and a familiar deep voice said, “Not a fucking chance, Francesca.”
I was pulled down off the wall and fell into a hard male chest. It was every bit as strong as I remembered and I wanted nothing more than to sink into him. I forced my body to remain rigid, frightened yet incensed.
“What are you doing, wife?” Fausto snarled into my ear, his arms holding me in a death grip. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself climbing out of that window. Che cazzo?”
He didn’t get it yet, but he would. I didn’t give up, playing the part as best as I could remember. “Get your hands off me,” I snapped as I struggled against him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He froze and I could almost hear the gears in his sharp mind turning, the recognition dawning. He was remembering that day almost five years ago when he caught me trying to escape. “You are coming with me,” he said in a tone that invited no argument. “Even if I must drug you to do it.”
“Drug me!” I shoved at his shoulders, the fine material of his suit coat sliding under my palms. “Is that what you Italian men do to unwilling women?”
He pulled me even closer, his mouth at my ear. “I could not say. There are no unwilling women in my life.”
The way he said it, smooth and full of confidence, was just as sexy now as it was all those years ago. My knees actually wobbled, and I quickly found myself grabbing onto him to keep from falling.
“Are you going to come like a good girl?”
I licked my lips. We were deviating from the script, but I liked it. “No. Get off me, you dick.”
He made a tsking sound, like I disappointed him. “Restraints it is.”
From his suit coat pocket he produced handcuffs and a gag. I stared at them, not understanding. Did he just happen to have—?
At that moment a car pulled up. Marco was behind the wheel.
My eyes met my husband’s. “I don’t understand.”
“Did you think I was unaware of what you were up to? That I didn’t see the rope and the backpack earlier in your bedroom? Ma dai, mia piccola monella. I am always watching you.”
“Well, I knew you’d see me climb down the rope, but I thought we’d go back inside to the house. You know, where it’s safe. And where the kids are.”
In a blink, he spun me around, putting my back flat to his chest. Hot breath ghosted over my ear as he said, “You don’t want safe, Francesca. You want danger, a spark. A reminder that you’re still married to il Diavolo.”
Get out of my head, mafioso. Sometimes I thought he knew me better than I knew myself.
“I don’t want to put you at risk.” He was always so careful with security, especially after the shooting.
“You should be worried about yourself.” In a flash he had my wrists pinned and shackled with the cuffs. “I can’t drug you, dolcezza, but I can still take you.”
Before I could stop him, he shoved the gag into my mouth and tied it behind my head. A fucking gag! Was he serious? Struggling, I cursed and ordered him to remove it, but he pretended not to hear me.
Then my husband tossed me over his shoulder and carried me to the car.
Fausto
I knew the gag would piss her off.
Francesca wriggled in my grasp, her protests muffled by the cloth. I slapped her ass as I carried her to the car. “Basta, piccolina. Behave.”
I was truly annoyed with her. She’d risked herself by climbing out of that window and shimmying down the rope. This woman was my wife, the mother of three of my children, and she would do something so foolish? Ma dai, I would punish her for that.
Though a part of me was relieved she was ready to play games with me, that she’d forgiven me for keeping a secret from her.
We both knew this wouldn’t be the last secret I kept, however.
There would be many instances in our marriage where it was better for her not to know. My world was dangerous and I tried my best to keep it separate from Francesca and the children. I didn’t want to lose anyone else. That was the way it had to be, and eventually Francesca would accept this.
At the car, I opened the back door and gingerly put my wife inside, laying her down on the leather. She glared at me, but I ignored her and got in the front passenger seat. It was exactly what Marco and I did five years ago after I drugged her. We drove to the airstrip, got on a plane, and flew back to Siderno.
That wasn’t where we were going tonight. No, I had a very different destination in mind.
She tried to talk on the drive, garbled, irritated words, but Marco and I ignored her. A lot of planning had gone into tonight, and she needed to trust me. We didn’t often have the chance to be alone outside of the castello, and I wasn’t going to waste it.
We pulled up to the private airstrip. My jet was fueled and ready, and the attendant stood waiting at the bottom of the metal stairs. “Are we set? Anything I need to know?” I asked Marco.
“Everything is in place. Four different flight plans have been recorded. Security is standing by at the airstrip when you land. I talked to Tony myself.”
“Va bene. Thank you, cugino.”
He put the car in park and surveyed our surroundings, as he always did. “Prego. Have fun, Rav.”
I got out of the car and opened the back seat. Francesca was calmer, but according to the crinkle between her brows, still annoyed. That was good. I liked when she was feisty.
Maintaining our game, I left her bound and gag and carried her onto the plane over my shoulder. “Oh, my god,” I heard her mumble through the cloth. “Put me down. You’re embarrassing me.”
I ignored her. I paid these people very well, enough that they wouldn’t blink twice at whatever they saw.
I put her on the bed in the bedroom.
Then I left.
****************************
The airstrip was outside the city. Francesca rubbed her sore wrists and stared at the helicopter waiting there. I’d only just removed the handcuffs and gag, and she hadn’t said much, other than to call me an asshole.
“Let’s go,” I said, my hand in the small of her back. “Do as you’re told, Francesca.”
She started forward, muttering, “How I wish I had a pen to stab you with right now.”
I chuckled. A man came forward. He was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, but had the look of someone who’d been in the military. “Sir, ma’am. I’m Tony, and I’m in charge of your security tonight. If you’ll follow me,” he said in clipped English before leading us to the helicopter.
We climbed in the back and settled in, while Tony sat in front with the pilot. “Where are we?” Francesca asked through the headset as the rotors began turning.
“Patience, la mia piccola monella.”
“Dick.”
My lips hitched in amusement. Yes, tonight was going to be fun.
When we were up in the air she cranked her head to see out the tiny windows. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. This trip was costing a fortune, but I knew she would love it. And she deserved a nice surprise after the last year. The third pregnancy had been hard on her. Then this business with Emma and Buscetta? And her father’s illness? She was dealing with too much, too soon. I wanted to help her relax and forget about everything else, even if only for a little while.
I set my hand on her thigh and she reached down to thread her fingers with mine. Seconds later her entire body jerked. “Is that . . . ?” Her gasp was exaggerated in my ear. “We’re going to New York City?”
I squeezed her hand. We were flying directly toward the city, the twinkling lights like a beacon in the night sky. “This was where you were planning to attend college, no?”
“Yes.” She shifted to brush her lips over my jaw sweetly. “Oh, paparino. You are getting the blow job of a lifetime tonight.”
I chuckled, thankful the men up front couldn’t hear her. “Dolcezza, you haven’t even seen the best part.”
“I can’t believe this.” She angled to see out the window again.“I can’t believe you made this happen. Marco has to be shitting his pants right about now.”
“No doubt he has a few more gray hairs. But Tony oversees security for one of my colleagues here in New York City. He’s reported to be the best.”
“I have no doubt, knowing Marco. But don’t think I’m over being pissed at you. I’m still mad as hell, especially about that gag.”
I slid my hand higher on her thigh and pulled her legs apart slightly. Then I stroked her slit over her clothes. “I like you bound and gagged.”
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “Stop distracting me. I want to see the city.”
I didn’t pull away. “Then watch.” I continued my leisurely swipes across her clit as she stared at the city, her face a mixture of lust and fascination. She was so beautiful it made my heart ache. I would do absolutely anything for this woman.
Finally, we touched down on the roof of a building. I helped her out of the helicopter, and Tony showed us inside. “What is this place?” my wife asked as we entered the private elevator. “Is this a club?”
“Patience, monella.” I rubbed her back. “We’re almost there.”
The elevator descended one floor, then the doors opened into a luxurious hotel suite. It was the only one of its kind in the city—a full floor penthouse accessible only by helipad on the roof.
Francesca’s mouth fell open. “Whoa. This is nice. Are we staying here tonight?”
“In a way, yes.” I turned to Tony. “Everything is set?”
“Yes, sir. All secure. We’ll be stationed on the roof all night. You’re all clear until morning.”
I shook his hand. “Grazie. See you in the morning.”
Tony left and I disabled the elevator like he showed me. It wouldn’t be reenabled until the morning. Francesca was already walking around, checking out the space, so I came up behind her. “What do you think?” I asked as I wrapped my arms around her waist.
“This view,” she said, looking out across the lower half of Manhattan. “It’s amazing.”
“In the morning you’ll be able to see more.”
She reached up to thread her fingers through my hair. “This is an amazing surprise, baby. You have no idea how excited I am to sleep in a bed, just the two of us, without kids waking us up all night.”
“If that is what you want, then I think you will be disappointed tonight.”
“Why?” She angled to see my face. “Are the kids here?”
“No. Come. Let’s find your surprise.”
I took her hand and explored until we found the biggest suite, the one with an attached outdoor terrace. It was surrounded by high shrubbery for privacy, so we went outside into the cool night air. The heaters had been turned on, so the space was warm.
“Oh, my god. Is this a tent?” she asked, walking toward the structure on the far end.
“Sì. I thought I would take you camping.”
“Paparino, this is glamping, not camping. But I’m here for it.” Ducking her head, she disappeared into the canvas enclosure. “Holy shit!”
I trailed her into the tent, and found the accommodations every bit as luxurious as the inside. There were rugs and pillows, along with a low queen-sized bed. More heaters meant we wouldn’t freeze our asses off in here later.
“Look!” She crawled onto the bed, rolled onto her back and gestured toward the top of the tent. “There’s a skylight.”
I couldn’t stand upright inside the tent, so I removed my suit jacket and then got on the bed next to her. The dark sky was spread out above us, the universe demonstrating how small and inconsequential we were. It never failed to humble me, while at the same time making me want to leave my mark on this earth.
“You love to fuck outside,” my wife said, elbowing me.
I hummed in the back of my throat as I pulled her closer. “I love to fuck you outside, monella.”
She rolled up onto her elbow and stared down at me, her hand smoothing over my chest. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. I’m sorry this past—”
“You owe me no apologies, Francesca.” My heart twisted with how much I loved this woman. I leaned up to press my lips under her chin. “I’ve asked a lot of you in the last few years. No doubt I’ll demand more in the future. Our marriage won’t be easy for you, but I can’t change it. I will do my best to spoil you, however, whenever I can.”
She kissed me slowly on the mouth, her lips so soft and lush. “I love when you spoil me,” she whispered.
“Then take off your clothes and get on your back. Let me eat you out while you stare at the sky.”
“You’re all business tonight. I like it.” She gave me a quick kiss, then stripped out of the athletic gear she’d put on to escape the house earlier. We would be having words about her dangling from a rope, but that would come later.
When she was on her back I moved between her legs. I was used to seeing her naked, but now, after having our children and while she was still nursing one? Fucking stunning, like a Renaissance painting come to life. “Sei molto bella, dolcezza.” I kissed her thigh, inhaling the sweet smell of her skin, while her fingernails dragged across my scalp.
“Even with all the baby weight and the huge boobs?”
It wasn’t like her to be so self-conscious. I looked up her gorgeous, fuckable body to hold her gaze. “How can you think for even one second that you’re less attractive to me?”
She bit her bottom lip, rolling it between her teeth. “I don’t know. But after Rafe and Noemi, you couldn’t keep your hands off me. This time feels different. You haven’t tried to fuck me once since Marcello was born.”
“Francesca.” I came up on my elbows and gave her the soft smile I reserved just for her. “I was waiting for you to feel more like yourself. There is no pressure or timetable. I want this to be fun for you, too.”
“Well, I definitely didn’t feel like myself. First I was exhausted and then I was mad at you.”
“I know.” I gripped her thighs tighter. “But never think I wasn’t eager for you, dying for a taste of this pussy.” I bent my head and swiped my tongue through her slit, collecting her wetness on my tongue. “You’re so slick for me. Does this mean you aren’t mad any longer?”
“No. All it means is that I want you to suck on my clit and make me come.”
“You think to order me around tonight?” I kissed her clit once. “After climbing out that window and scaring me half to death? Ma dai, piccolina.”
“Fausto, I haven’t had an orgasm in five months. Please, for god’s sake—”
I didn’t waste any more time. I devoured her with my mouth, my tongue swirling and flicking, as I licked every bit of her up like a treat. Cazzo, I had missed this. I loved her pussy, and the soft sighs and moans she made when I was pleasuring her. How could she ever think I didn’t want this?
She sucked in a sharp breath when I slid a finger inside her. “God, that’s so good. Shit, baby. Fuck, yes. Right there!”
I kept at it, working her clit and curling my finger to rub her g-spot. She came abruptly, her fingers tugging at the strands of my hair, pulling me closer, as she thrashed on the bed. Wetness coated my finger, the smell of her arousal permeating the air in the confined space. It was like my own brand of heaven right here, outside with my woman, making her scream to the heavens.
When she stopped shaking I pulled away, settling on my knees. My hands flew to my belt and I unfastened the clasp, then went to work on my trousers. Her half-lidded eyes watched me dreamily. “Are you going to fuck me now?”
“I’m going to do whatever I want with you—and you’re going to lie there and take it like a good girl, no?”
Her nostrils flared as she dragged in a breath, her expression slack and compliant. “Yes, paparino.”
Fuck me. I loved her like this, blissed out and ready for anything. “Hold your tits together. I’m going to fuck them.”
I dragged my cock through her slit, coating my shaft in her slick. She had her heavy tits in her hands, pressing the mounds together for me, so I shuffled higher my knees until I straddled her. Then I pushed into the crevice between her swollen tits, watching the whole time as my cock was swallowed up.
“Madre di dio,” I breathed, the sight so fucking erotic. She squeezed her tits, and our flesh glided together as I rocked back and forth. I lost myself in the movement, loving the sensations. Soon fluid beaded at the tips of her breasts from the pressure, drops of milk that dribbled onto my cock. I collected one of the drops on my finger and slipped it into my mouth, tasting the sweetness her body produced.
“God, you’re so dirty,” she rasped.
I groaned as my hips kept slowly churning. “You are so fucking sexy. Stick out your tongue and lick my crown as I fuck your tits.”
Raising her head, she put her tongue out so that each thrust ended with a sweet brush of wet heat on my tip. When she arched like she was trying to get closer, trying to get more of me, I had to pull away. I’d come too soon if I didn’t stop.
Closing my eyes, I tried to calm down. I wanted to fuck her all night, so I couldn’t let this be over quickly. I rose and began slowly undressing, tossing my clothes on the floor.
“You look good, baby.” She dragged her foot up my bare chest as I looked her over. “I swear, you get hotter with every year.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, but I was glad she thought as much. “Roll over. I want to play with your ass while I fuck you.”
She moved to her hands and knees, shifting to present me with her luscious ass. I spread her legs wider and pushed into her cunt, my dick instantly surrounded by hot pressure. I exhaled and withdrew slightly, letting her feel me and adjust, before slamming all the way inside. We both moaned. It had been so long. “This is the only place I want to be,” I whispered. “Buried deep inside you. I could never give this up. Sei la mia puttanella, no?”
“God, yes. It’s so good. Fuck me, please.”
I slapped her ass rapidly five times.
She dropped onto her elbows and moaned, and her pussy clenched around my cock.
Leaning down, I growled, “Do you need a reminder how this works?”
“Shit. No. Ow, that stings, Fausto.”
I gave her three strikes on the other cheek. “There. That is better, no?”
Then I started rocking my hips, pounding into her, the sound of our flesh smacking together like music to my ears. As I worked, I slipped my thumb between her cheeks to play with her hole. I knew how much she loved it when I did this. When my thumb slipped inside, she hissed, so I smoothed free my hand down her back, petting her. “Relax. It will feel better in a second.”
Soon she was pushing back on my cock and my thumb, eager for more, desperate for another orgasm. I would give it to her, but I needed to watch.
I pulled out and laid down on the bed. Then I patted her hip. “Ride my cock, monella. Make me come.”
She threw her leg over me and positioned herself over my erection. The dark sky was overhead and I was so fucking happy. I had my wife alone for the entire night, and we were fucking outdoors. There was nothing better.
She wrapped a hand around my shaft and fed my cock into her pussy, sinking down until our hips met. Her head dropped back as she closed her eyes, her hands cupping her breasts. “God, baby. That’s so good.”
I dragged my hands over every available inch of her skin that I could reach, like I was relearning her. But there was nothing to relearn. She was the same woman who’d driven me crazy since the first moment we met, and I wanted her as much now as I did then.
Working her hips, she began fucking me, her pussy gliding over my erection to create friction we both craved. Her tits bounced as she moved, and it wasn’t long before I felt the tingling in my balls to signal my impending orgasm. The view of her on top, the fact that it had been so long . . . Dio, I was so fucking close.
“Faster, dolcezza.” I dug my hands into her waist, helping her move.
Sweat built between us as she panted, her muscles shaking as she continued to grind on me. “I’m almost there,” she breathed. “You could help me, you stronzo.”
“I like watching you work for it, amore mio. Now rub that pretty clit. Get yourself off on my cock.”
She reached between her legs and began stroking her clit. I watched mesmerized, barely hanging on, while she used my body and her fingers to achieve her orgasm. I cupped her full tits and pinched the nipples. “That’s it. Show me. Show me how much you love my dick, Francesca.”
“Oh, god, yes. Fuck!”
I could feel her begin to peak, so I grabbed her hand and pulled it away from her body. Jerking, she tried to fight me, her eyelids flying open. “What are you doing? I’m so close.”
“Are you going to climb out of any more windows? Will you take such stupid risks to get my attention in the future?”
“It wasn’t to get—”
“Cazzata, Francesca.” I pulled her down on top of me, my cock still buried inside her, while I held her face close to mine and held her gaze. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “You always have my attention, dolcezza—always. Even when you think you don’t. I am obsessed with you, every part of you, no matter what. If you want to play games, we’ll play. But don’t put yourself at risk again, capisce?”
She softened, her big eyes blinking rapidly. “Okay, paparino.”
That nickname turned me inside out, as it did almost every time she said it. I took her mouth in a kiss, showing her without words how much she meant to me, as I fucked into her from below. I drove my hips up at a brutal pace, jolting her body with every thrust until she tensed and froze, her nails digging into my shoulders. Her pussy clamped down on me, milking me, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. The climax shot through me, a blistering wave of sparks and heat that rippled in every limb, every pore.
I pressed my face into her neck and clasped her tight, my muscles quaking with the aftershocks. Madre di dio . . . . So good.
Panting, she sprawled out on top of me. “Jesus. You’re going to ruin me.”
I closed my eyes and drifted, more relaxed than I’d been in months. “You can take it, moglie.”
She started to move, but I gripped her hip, holding her in place. “Apetta un minuto. Let me enjoy this a little longer.”
“Fausto, my boobs are leaking all over your chest.”
I could feel it, but who cared whether it was sweat, come, pussy juice or milk? “Monella, let me hold you and keep my cock inside you for another minute. It’s been forever. You can pump when we’re through.”
“You brought my breast pump?”
“I asked one of the nannies to pack everything you’d need for a night away.”
She snickered at that, which didn’t make sense. I smoothed my palms over her soft skin. “What is it? What is so funny?”
“I was thinking of il Diavolo, packing a breast pump in a suitcase.”
I snorted. “Il Diavolo does not do his own packing, let alone anyone else’s.”
“Not even his wife’s?”
“Not even his wife’s.”
She laughed, and I stared at the sky, vast and mysterious, spread out above us. A sense of contentment, rightness, settled in my chest and down into my bones. This woman had given me everything—a family, love and laughter. I was so fortunate that she’d come into my life. I couldn’t imagine it without her. “We should do this more often.”
“Come to New York, you mean?”
“Travel.”
She pushed up on my chest to look at me. “You can’t be serious.”
I wouldn’t insult her by pretending not to know what she was talking about. “I know you wished to travel at one point. I want to give that to you and experience it with you.”
“After you’re almost murdered in front of my eyes? Fausto, what is wrong with you? Every time we leave Siderno you’re at risk.”
I didn’t point out that I was almost killed while we were on the streets of Siderno. “Dolcezza, security can be hired. I managed this, no? Trust me to take care of this for you.”
“Fuck, no.” She pushed off me before I could stop her and snatched my white dress shirt off the ground. “And I can’t argue with you right now. My boobs are about to explode, for fuck’s sake.”
Shooting up, I grabbed her forearm to keep her from leaving. “Tell me you’ll think about it.”
“Fausto, come on! There is a reason you never leave the castello. How many assassination attempts have there been? Four? Five?” Her eyes turned glassy, moisture gathering on her lashes while she cradled my shirt in her arms. “Do not put me through that again.”
I rose and gathered her close. “I want to give you everything, just as you have given me.”
“You have, baby.” She wrapped her arms around my waist. “Maybe I wanted to travel when I was younger, but I’m a wife and a mother now. You and the kids are my whole world. And it’s enough. Believe me, it’s enough.”
I wouldn’t accept this answer. I’d let the issue go for now, but Francesca deserved to do everything and anything her heart desired, even if that meant traveling outside Italy. There were ways to do this safely. That fuck D’Agostino had sailed around the world for nearly four years without anyone knowing where he was. If he could manage it, then I could, as well.
I pulled back and kissed her forehead. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you about Virga and Borghese’s idea regarding your sister. I never thought they would force her to Palermo.”
She exhaled into my throat. “Thank you. I assume you’ve dealt with Borghese.”
Oh, yes. I had. Borghese was alive. Barely. But he’d never plot against me or my family ever again. Those were details my wife didn’t need, however. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
Her eyebrows drew together as she frowned up at me. “Are you going to drop this travel issue?”
“No, but I don’t want to fight with you tonight. I’d much rather fuck you instead.”
“Again?” She retreated, moving away, before a smirk twisted her lips. “Well, someone took his stamina pills. About time you kept up with me.”
I took a threatening step toward her—and she yelped, turned on her heel, and disappeared onto the terrace. I pulled on my briefs and followed at a more reasonable pace, a grin on my face. I had my sassy monella back . . . and I was going to enjoy taming her tonight.