Licking my lips, I blink a few times, trying to adjust to the darkness of the area, and inhale a sharp breath when my gaze connects to the one and only man sitting in the middle of the room, facing me.
Turning my head, I look over to Mamba. “Sorry, little girl. Your husband made it very clear he wanted to talk to you, alone.”
Then, without another word, he takes a few steps backward and closes the door. He leaves me alone in what looks like a bar, with my husband.
“Did you think I wouldn’t come for you?” he asks, keeping his tone even, his body not moving from his seat.
I could answer him. Because no, I didn’t think that he would come for me. I didn’t think that he would ever look for me, let alone find me. My naivety took over, and I stupidly thought that I was home free.
SALVATORE
The woman standing in front of me doesn’t look like my wife.
Sure, it’s only been a few days since I’ve seen her. Since I stood on her apartment balcony and told her that I would come back for her. It’s only been a few days, but it has felt like an eternity not knowing exactly where she was or if she was safe.
She’s standing in front of me, but she’s dirty and disheveled. She is not the put-together wife that I’m used to. She looks more like the girl who showed up in my office, terrified and begging me for help. The girl I married.
“I-I didn’t know what to do,” she admits on a whisper.
“You didn’t trust me to help you, or was it that you didn’t want me?” I ask.
I’m curious. I want to know the answer, I deserve to know the answer. Maybe I don’t deserve a damn fucking thing.
I’m the one who couldn’t protect her.
I’m the one who filed for divorce—me, not her.
I should not be blaming her for a fucking thing. It’s all on me, all of it. Once again, I didn’t protect her.
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I just wanted to disappear.”
Hating how weak she sounds, hating that she said those words, I stand and make my way toward her. Lifting my hands, I cup her cheeks and look into her eyes. She’s on the verge of tears. She looks like she wants to be anywhere but right here with me.
Sliding my thumbs along the apples of her cheeks, I watch her for a long moment, taking her in, really looking at her and wondering how I can keep her safe. Maybe I should walk away, leave her here, and don’t look back.
But then I selfishly imagine my life without her, and my entire world is dark.
“I killed him,” I breathe. “He will never hurt you again. He will never threaten you. He no longer breathes, bambola.”
I watch as relief floods her features and she nods her head. “Thank you, Salvatore.”
Hating the way she says my name, I slide one of my hands around the back of her neck and squeeze gently. She tilts her head back to look up at me, her eyes wide and wet with unshed tears.
“I did it for you, but I did it for me, too,” I admit. She licks her lips, then sinks her teeth into the flesh of her bottom lip as she continues to watch me silently. “I understand if you want to disappear. I’ll continue to provide you with money just like our documents state. You and the baby will never be without, not fucking ever.”
“But?” she asks.
Clearing my throat, I stay close to her, unable to move even an inch backward. I’m afraid if I let her go, that she’ll slip through my fingers and disappear forever. That she’ll do exactly what she came here to do and I’ll lose her.
“You pushed me away, Salvatore and now you’re holding me and looking at me as if… I don’t know what.”
I stare at her for a moment in silence, wondering what I could even say that would make any of it better. Nothing, I suppose. I could tell her that I love her, but I don’t know what I feel. I feel something, I know that, I’m just not exactly sure what it is.
I need her, I want her, and I adore her. But love is something that we don’t have yet. We haven’t known one another long enough. She needs to know the truth of it all, though. She needs to know exactly what I can and can’t give her.
“I’ll never be able to keep you safe. Not ever,” I admit. “I can give you a home, money, and myself, but I can’t keep you safe.”
She blinks, her eyes wide. “Why do you think that?”
“I haven’t yet, evidently.”
Her lips curve up into a small grin. “Haven’t you, though?” she asks. “I’m alive, I’m safe now, the baby is safe and the people who were out to hurt me are all dead.”
“You shouldn’t have been in those situations in the first place,” I murmur.
She laughs softly, lifting her hand and cupping my cheek. “Courtney and Miguel were both people that I foolishly trusted and have nothing to do with you. Valerius was in love with Courtney. He wasn’t ever going to let me or you go without attempting to cause us pain and suffering. None of these things are because of you.”
“You were taken, and you were held against your will by Valerius. Those are on me. He could have raped you and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him, I wouldn’t have even known.”
Rosana tilts her head to the side, her gaze searching my own. “I’m not the only woman to be kidnapped. I wasn’t hurt. I’m okay.”
“But what if you aren’t okay next time? What the fuck am I going to do if I lose you, all because of who I am. All because I can’t protect you the way that I should.”
“Do you want me?” she asks.
Shifting closer to her, I dip down and press my forehead against hers. “That doesn’t matter,” I breathe.
“Yes, it does.”
Releasing her, I take a step back and look into her eyes. They’re watering again, and this time the tears fall. I’ve done this to us. All of it.
I’ve done it and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to keep her safe, I don’t know how to ease my guilt, and I don’t know how to just accept that this is the way it is—that this shit happens.
“It matters very much, Rosana,” I murmur. “It matters because if I cannot protect you then you will be murdered just like Abriana.”
Turning from her, I lift my hands and run my fingers through my hair, trying to breathe. I’m fucking this all up. I should have just let her run. I shouldn’t have come after her.
I feel her hand touch my shoulder and I look behind me, she’s standing there with her arm outstretched, but tears are falling from her cheeks.
“Salvatore, stop hurting me,” she whispers.
Spinning around, I reach out and wrap my hands around her hips, roughly pulling her against me. “I can’t,” I growl before my lips crash against hers.
Chapter Thirty-One
ROSANA
Lifting my hands, I press my palms against his chest, pushing away from him. I take a few steps backward, stumbling as I do. I shake my head a couple of times, replaying his growled words in my head over and over.
I can’t.
Then, when I see him reach out for me again, I turn and I run. I have no clue where I’m going and I don’t care. My feet take me away. They pump as fast as they can as I run straight. I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t care either.
I make my way toward the road and stop at the closed gate. I’m huffing and puffing as I look over to the man in the little shack. He is looking directly at me and shakes his head once.
“Let me out,” I scream.
He watches me for a moment but doesn’t do anything. I let out a frustrated growl, but he still just watches me. Then it happens. I hear something and I spin around just in time to see a truck headed my way.
It stops in front of me and Salvatore jumps out. Stepping backward, I hold my hands up to ward him off, but he doesn’t stop. He walks toward me, stomps, and stalks. Whatever you want to call it, he’s coming, and he isn’t slowing down.
My back slams against the gate and I expect it to rattle, but it doesn’t. It stands firm. Then Salvatore is on me. His hands cup my cheeks again
and he wipes the tears that are falling down.
“Fuck it, Rosana,” he rasps.
“Fuck it?” I ask through my soft sobs.
His eyes search mine and he licks his lips before he speaks. “Yeah, fuck it. You’re mine. You’ll regret it. I have no doubt that you will, but I made you a promise to take care of you, take care of that baby and be your husband and I’m going to fulfill it.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” I breathe.
He snorts. “I’m not, bambola. Trust me when I tell you, it’s going to be a goddamn pleasure to be your husband.”
I open my mouth to say something else, though I’m not exactly sure what. I don’t get the chance to say anything. His tongue fills me and his hands leave my face. One wraps around the side of my neck, the other around my waist.
He picks me up, kissing me the entire time that he carries me to the truck. I don’t know whose truck it is or how he got the keys, but with his tongue in my mouth, I don’t care either. I melt against him, feeling his hard length against my belly, and I swoon.
Salvatore sets me down on something, and then he crawls above me. I scoot back and realize that I’m sitting in the back of the pickup bed. Salvatore’s mouth stays glued to mine as he consumes me.
I lie back, feeling the hard steel of the truck against my spine, but it doesn’t matter, nothing does except his mouth and body against my own.
Whimpering against him, I spread my legs and wrap them around his waist, shifting my hips and rubbing my center against the hard length behind his pants. My eyes are closed as I just feel. Everything he does seems to make my entire body ignite.
His fingers around the back of my neck squeeze, then his other hand slips between us and unbuttons my pants. His hand slides between the waist of my pants and my belly. Ripping my lips from his, I let out a moan when I feel his fingers slide across my clit.
“Salvi,” I exhale.
“There it is, bambola,” he murmurs against my neck as he kisses me, tasting me there.
I don’t ask him what, it doesn’t matter, all that matters is the way that he touches me. I forget about everything. I forget about the man just a few feet away in the small guard shack.
I forget about all the heartache, about the pain, about everything that’s happened, and I just feel him touching me.
Salvatore slips two fingers inside of me, then presses his palm against my clit. He applies pressure, moving in and out, then grinds his palm against my clit, over and over, until I can’t think about anything except my release.
I’m close, too close. My breathing is coming in pants, and Salvatore presses his mouth against mine. His tongue starts to fuck me in tandem with his fingers. Lifting my hips, I meet his fingers and his palm with each stroke.
Ripping my lips from his, I arch my neck and I let out a sobbing whimper as I come. My hips move hard and fast, chasing my orgasm and drawing it out all at the same time. At the same time, my thighs shake as my hips continue to move.
I let out a whimpering sigh when my body finally relaxes. Salvatore slowly releases his fingers from inside of me and I moan, missing the way that they felt there. Then embarrassment slides through my whole being.
I’m outside. He just made me come in the back of someone else’s pickup truck right next to another man. What the hell am I doing? What the actual hell am I doing?
“You know he left us, right?” Salvatore asks.
“He?” I ask.
He snorts, touching his lips to my nose. “The guard, he left as soon as I carried you to the truck.”
Salvatore wraps his fingers around the waist of my pants. Moving my legs, I lift my hips and he exposes me to the outside elements. I’ve never been this bold about anything in my life. I know that I should probably tell him no. To find a room somewhere. But I want this—I want him. I want my husband.
Lifting my hands between us, I cup his cheeks. “We do this, Salvatore, and you can’t push me away again. I’ll fight you tooth and nail. This is you and me—forever.”
“You’re mine, Rosana. I’m not walking away. Even if it costs you your life, I’m keeping you.”
“God,” I cry out. “You are so damn dramatic. I am not going to die. Nobody is going to take me again. My drama is dead—literally.”
Salvatore’s lips curve up into a grin and he shakes his head a couple of times before he lowers his head and his mouth touches mine.
“Okay,” he murmurs against my lips. “No more talk of that, yeah?”
I let out a huff. “Yeah.”
Then I feel the head of his length against my center. Lifting my hips, I wrap my legs around him and dig my heels against the cheeks of his ass, forcing him inside of me a little farther.
He grins down at me, his eyes searching mine before his lips touch my own again, and he pushes the rest of the way inside of me—filling me.
Arching my neck, I let out a moan that is sure to be heard all the way to the clubhouse, but I’m not sure that I care. I love the way that he feels inside of me, and it’s been almost six weeks since I’ve felt this.
SALVATORE
My hips move as I move inside of my wife. Watching her, I’m unable to do anything but stare into her eyes. She whimpers as I fuck her. Though I’m not sure I would call this a fuck, I don’t know what it is, but it’s bigger than anything else I’ve ever felt.
Wrapping my hands around her waist, I grip her tightly as she meets my strokes. Shifting my hand from around the back of her neck, I wrap my fingers around the side of her throat as I continue to watch her.
“You’re mine, Rosana,” I breathe.
“Yes,” she whimpers.
“All fucking mine,” I grind out. “I’m a fucking fool.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her lips curve up into a grin. “Yeah,” she whispers softly. “You are.”
Shaking my head once, I grind my hips against her clit harder on each downstroke, my gaze never leaving hers. I watch her to gauge her reaction. I listen for the hitch in her breath, watch her lips part in awe, and then watch her eyes widen before her eyelids lower.
It doesn’t take me long until I’m on the edge of my release. My back tingles and my balls draw up in anticipation. Sweat gathers against my forehead as I gnash my teeth together, trying to keep from blowing my load inside of her too quickly.
Then it happens. That hitch of her breath, right before I feel her pussy flutter around me, and she cries out with her release. I don’t even get the opportunity to savor the moment. I come right on the heels of her orgasm, burying myself deep inside of her before I roar with my own orgasm.
“I love you,” I rasp.
The words spill out, but I don’t regret them.
I do love her.
I’ve loved her since she walked into my office, desperate for help. I just wasn’t sure what it was that I was feeling, but I know now.
It’s love
Careful not to press my body against her stomach, I push up slightly, pulling my pants up and buttoning them before I help her with her own. She’s still breathing heavily. Reaching forward, I tuck some hair behind her ear and look into her eyes.
“Salvi, do you mean what you said?” she asks, her voice timid and quaking slightly.
I hum, lying down beside her, rolling to my side. She does the same, looking into my eyes. “I do, bambola. More than I realized.”
“We ran scared, didn’t we?” she asks.
“I pushed you away, and you ran, but yes. We were both scared in our own ways, but I wish I would have never pushed you away, I’m sorry for that.”
Her lips curve up into a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Made Man say that before,” she laughs.
Chuckling, I clear my throat. “I’m not like most Made Men,” I admit.
“Yeah, I’m discovering that.”
Before we can say anything else, I hear a motorcycle rumble headed our way. Sitting up, I laugh at the sight of Dragon with Bellarosa’s long dark hair out behind them as they a
pproach.
“Your sister is here. Hopefully, we can have more children together when she’s done with me.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Rosana asks.
Looking at Rosana, I smile. “Because if looks could kill, I’d be dead and I have a feeling Bellarosa is going to go after my balls before any other part of me.”
The motorcycle stops and I climb down from the dirty truck, helping Rosana down as well. Bellarosa climbs off of the bike before Dragon can even turn the damn thing off. I watch as she rushes toward us, wrapping her arms around Rosana.
“You’re here,” Bellarosa whispers. “Tell me what that asshole did to you.”
Rosana laughs, looking over her shoulder at me, a huge smile playing on her lips. “He was just being a man,” she whispers.
Bellarosa looks at me, narrowing her eyes, then shifts her gaze back to Rosana. “Come on into the clubhouse and tell me all about it. I’ll decide if you go back.”
I open my mouth to say something, but Dragon clears his throat. I look over to him and he is smiling as he shakes his head before he speaks.
“Don’t get in the middle of any of that shit,” he murmurs. “We’ll just go back to the clubhouse, let them do their shit, and have a beer. There’s a guest room for you two all set up, either here or at our house. Whatever you want to do. Fair warning, our house is basically a jungle gym of kids everywhere.”
“Now that sounds like a plan,” I say. He snorts. “Bring Rosana to the clubhouse, they’ll talk, we’ll have a beer. It’ll all be good, brother.”
Rosana loads up in the truck, much to Bellarosa’s resistance. I drive us back to the clubhouse, and we do exactly what Dragon said we would. Though I met him yesterday when I arrived, it’s been a whirlwind, and I haven’t spent much time with him, getting to know him.
I have to admit that I like him and his men. In my position, I haven’t really met any of these Savage Beasts before, and I understand why Gavino enjoys them so much and has been so loyal to them. They are good men, with good core values.
Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7) Page 21