by Reilly, Cora
Luca turned to face me, sheathing his knife, the remnants of the monster still in his expression.
I exhaled. “God, even I was scared of you. You can be terrifying.”
Another chunk of the monster fell off, his expression softening as he regarded me. “So I have been told.”
I stepped up to him and put my hands up against his chest. There was no sense in punishing Luca for something Grace had said or done. I’d forgiven him for his slipup long ago. With my touch, the last of Luca’s darkness fell off and the warmth reached his eyes. “Don’t listen to a word she says, Aria. She thrives on spite and lies.”
“Two years?” I asked quietly.
Luca shook his head. “She was one of many, Aria. I only returned to her because…” He stopped himself.
“Because of her missing gag reflex,” I muttered.
“Aria,” Luca said almost angrily, reaching for my hand and pressing it against his chest, over his heart. “I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you, and not because I have to imagine my aunts naked to stop myself from shooting my cum the moment your perfect lips close around my cock, though that too, but because you make me laugh, because you are kind and because whenever I look at you, I feel something I’ve never felt before: peace.”
I swallowed.
Matteo chose that moment to barge into the corridor. “It’s close to midnight. You lovebirds should make a reappearance.” His eyes narrowed as he took in the way we were facing each other.
I gave Luca a small smile to show him we were okay, and he took my hand and led me back to the party. Shortly after midnight we left. Luca was on edge, and staying any longer would only increase the risk of him losing his temper.
Together we returned to our penthouse to toast the New Year again without dozens of curious eyes on us.
Matteo and I grabbed glasses and a bottle of champagne, and headed out onto the rooftop while Luca searched for snacks. Fireworks were still rising into the sky in the distance. Matteo opened the bottle and poured champagne into the three glasses before he handed one to me. His dark eyes were keen as he regarded me.
“Grace cornered you at the party.”
I didn’t say anything but gave a small nod as I took a sip from my champagne. Then when I was sure my voice would come out strong, I said teasingly, “I hear I’m not the only one she cornered.”
Matteo cracked a grin. “More than cornered,” he said suggestively.
I nodded, looking back out toward the skyline.
“Trust me, no missing gag reflex ever made Luca look at Grace with anything close to the fucking vomit-inducing adoration he shows you when he thinks no one is watching,” Matteo said with his trademark grin. “My brother is hopelessly in love with you, and to be honest I want to have the same drugs you use on him for Gianna so she’ll look at me the same way once we’re married.”
I burst out laughing, and champagne shot out of my mouth and onto Matteo’s shirt. He glanced down at it then back up at me with raised eyebrows. “That was incredibly sexy—no wonder Luca can’t keep his hands off you.”
“I have my moments,” I said with an embarrassed smile.
“What was sexy?” Luca asked sharply as he stepped up to us with a plate loaded with bread and cheese and olives. He shoved it at Matteo, who winked at me. “Possessive husband mode activated.”
Luca circled my waist with his arm. “Matteo, I think you pissed me off enough for one evening. You don’t have to shoot all your ammunition today.”
“I never shoot all my ammunition, Luca,” Matteo said with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows.
I pressed up to Luca, feeling my cheeks heat from embarrassment and the effects of the champagne. Luca sighed, but when he looked down at me, I could tell he was happier than I’d seen him all day.
“And that look is my cue to head out and find someone to shoot my ammunition at,” Matteo muttered, downing his champagne.
Hesitation flickered in Luca’s gaze. They had spent every Sylvester together, and I realized that I had changed things between them too.
“No, stay.” I reached out and grabbed Matteo’s shirt because I didn’t get to grasp his arm and pulled half of it out of his pants. I released him at once.
His eyebrows shot up. “Luca, can you please tell your wife not to rip my clothes off my body? It’s sending out mixed signals.”
I burst out laughing and Luca pressed a kiss to my temple, then shoved his brother. “You wish.”
I smiled. “How did you spend your last Sylvester?”
Matteo rubbed the back of his head, glancing at Luca, who sent him a warning look. I took another gulp of the champagne. “I assume that means women were involved.”
“A few, yeah,” Matteo said with a wink.
“At the same time?”
“Matteo was too drunk to remember,” Luca said firmly, and I rolled my eyes at him but decided to let it drop.
“I never got to see old photos of you from when you were kids.”
Matteo grinned. “Let’s see if we can change that.” He moved back inside and began searching the cupboards.
Luca sighed. “He’s a pain in the ass.”
I touched his arm and his brows drew together, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe Luca thought he had never loved anyone before me but even if he didn’t realize it, he loved his brother. “Come on,” I said. “I want to see you when you were little.”
“I was never little,” Luca objected as he followed me into the living room.
Matteo held up an old photo album and I settled beside him on the sofa. Luca sank down beside me, grimacing at the first photo. It showed him and Matteo at ages three and five, dressed in suits. Luca was already tall but still scrawny, and his face already held a hardness a kid that age shouldn’t display. Matteo was holding his brother’s hand.
“You are holding hands,” I said with a smile.
Luca groaned. I turned the page and both Luca and Matteo tensed. The photo showed Matteo and Luca, wearing the same suits as before, beside a woman with long dark hair. She was staring into the camera with the most hopeless expression I’d ever seen. I could practically feel her despair. Luca’s mother had killed herself when he was only nine, and seeing her expression, I wasn’t surprised. I quickly turned the pages until I found a photo of Luca in his teens with the most horrible mustache I’d ever seen.
“I’d forgotten your pornstache!” Matteo said, chuckling.
“Pornstache?” I repeated, raising my eyebrows at Matteo. Luca was glaring at his brother.
“Because that’s the facial hair many porn actors had.”
I took another sip of my champagne even though I was already drunk.
“I was fourteen and thought it would make me look grown up,” Luca muttered and turned the page to a photo of him on a yacht in only bathing shorts. The mustache was gone and he was already all muscle, even though he couldn’t have been more than sixteen.
I let my eyes wander over him appreciatively and Luca smirked. I couldn’t wait for us to be alone.
chapter 5
ARIA
We didn’t mention the Sylvester party incident again and a few days later, we had to leave for Chicago to attend Dante’s wedding.
My cousin Valentina looked absolutely stunning in her cream sequined wedding dress. The wedding wasn’t a big affair like ours had been, but still, close to two hundred people attended from the Outfit and the Famiglia. I smiled as I watched Dante and Valentina during their first dance. The ballroom of the hotel had been decorated with pink and blush roses, and the atmosphere was almost relaxed.
Luca squeezed my hip. “You didn’t look this happy during our wedding dance.”
I laughed. “I was terrified of you.” Val didn’t look like she was scared of Dante, but she was older than me by five years and had been married before. I supposed the consummation of her marriage didn’t hold the same terror for her.
When the dance floor was opened for the guests, Luca pulled me into his arms
and led me along to the music. It still surprised me how well he could dance despite his height. I beamed up at him and his thumb stroked my naked back, the only public display of affection he would probably allow himself. He was still cautious but I didn’t mind, because he never held back with affection when we were alone and that was all that mattered.
As was expected, I had to dance with Dante and Luca with Val. I’d danced with Dante before and barely tensed when he took my hand, but when he pulled me against him and touched his palm to my bare back, I shivered from the too familiar gesture. He, too, tensed at the missing barrier between our skins. That was the problem with backless dresses. Heat rose into my cheeks as I met his eyes.
He gave me a very small smile. “I apologize,” he said formally.
“You can’t help my dress. Unless you move your hand to an inappropriately low level there is no way for you to reach fabric,” I said, hoping to lighten the atmosphere.
The barest hint of amusement showed on Dante’s face. “If I do that, your husband will spill blood.”
I followed his gaze. Luca kept throwing possessive looks my way as he danced with Val. While Val had looked perfectly fine with Dante, she appeared absolutely tense in Luca’s hold.
“Val looked happier dancing with you,” I said with a smile. Dante’s fingers against my back tightened and his expression darkened. Possessive and dominant, not so different from Luca, when it came down to it.
Matteo took over from Luca and Dante released me. I declined a dance from an Outfit soldier with a quick excuse, not wanting to test Luca’s patience and needing something to drink and a break from the possessive dominance surrounding me, but then Val laughed loudly at something Matteo had said. They were dancing closer than was appropriate. Luca narrowed his eyes at his brother, but he wasn’t the one I was worried about. Dante had a look in his eyes I knew from Luca.
Ignoring my thirst, I hurried to the dance floor and stopped beside Matteo and Val. “Why don’t you dance with me now, Matteo?”
Val’s eyes moved from me to her husband and realization filled her face. She stepped back from Matteo, who sent her a grin before he gripped my hand and jerked me against him.
I gasped from the impact against his muscled chest. My indignant look only made him grin wider, and he pressed his palm without hesitation against my back. He and Gianna would kill each other, that was a given.
For Matteo everything was a game—he thrived on provocation and chaos. With anyone but him I would have worried about Luca’s reaction but since this was Matteo, I relaxed in his tight embrace and let him twirl us around the dance floor.
Gianna stood off to the side, a scowl on her face when Matteo winked at her in passing. I dug my nails into his shoulder, bringing his attention back to me. “Don’t hurt her.” It came out sharper than intended, almost an order.
Matteo’s face became guarded. “Or what?”
I squeezed his hand and softened my tone. “Or you will never win her over. She might act all strong, but she has grown up as sheltered as me. Please treat her with kindness.” This was Luca’s brother and I was well aware that kindness wasn’t his forte, but if Luca could be kind to me then I had to hope Matteo could do the same with Gianna.
“I have no intention of hurting Gianna unless she’s into that kind of kinky shit.”
I rolled my eyes at him but when he looked at Gianna again, I could tell that his gaze held a flicker of warmth. Hers didn’t. She looked like she would rather chop her hands off than marry him. It worried me.
LUCA
I rolled over and reached for Aria but touched an empty bedsheet. My eyes flew open and I sat up, looking toward the clock on the nightstand. It was only six thirty in the morning on a Sunday and we’d returned late from Chicago. Where was she? Why wasn’t she still asleep?
That I hadn’t even noticed her getting out of bed showed how deep my sleep was beside her. Fuck.
I swung my legs out of bed, staggered to my feet and reached for my Beretta and stuffed it into my sweatpants. When I stepped onto the first floor landing, the sound of Aria’s humming reached my ears. I went down the stairs and found Aria in our open kitchen, barefoot and dressed in her satin nightgown. The counters and the floor were covered with white powder and so was Aria, her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
It smelled distinctly burned.
“What’s going on?”
Aria cried out and whirled around with a hand over her heart, her eyes wide. The tip of her nose and cheekbones were covered in white too, and my lips turned up at the sight.
A smile broke on her face. “I baked a cake for you.” She moved toward me. “Happy birthday, my love.”
Fuck, it was my birthday. I’d forgotten. I didn’t really celebrate that day. Aria stood on her tiptoes and I bent down, molding our lips together. I tasted flour on her lips—so that was the white powder. I pulled back, letting my eyes assess the mess. “I don’t want to sound cruel, but past experiences proved that you being in the kitchen isn’t a good idea.”
She pursed her lips. “I practiced with Marianna when you weren’t around.”
“You practiced?”
“I wanted your birthday cake to be perfect,” she said softly. I stared then raised my fingertips and brushed the flour off her cheeks. The spot on her nose would have to stay. She looked too fucking gorgeous for words. She stepped back, took mittens and opened the oven. The cake that she pulled out didn’t look half bad, even though it was on the dark side.
“It’s a chocolate cake with cream-cheese filling,” she said as she set it down on the counter. She grabbed a knife and cut off two pieces, put them on a plate before she set them down in front of me. She pressed up beside me. “I hope you like it.”
I grabbed the fork and speared a piece of the cake then brought it to my mouth, prepared for the worst, but the cake was actually delicious, warm and chocolaty. I didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but I enjoyed this because Aria had made it for me.
“And?” she asked, her eyes wide and worried.
“Delicious.”
Her answering smile actually made my fucking heart skip a beat.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Three hours?”
I raised my eyebrows. “I didn’t know cake takes that long.”
She blushed. “Well, it doesn’t but I got up early in case something didn’t go to plan, and I burnt the first two cakes—they’re in the trash.”
I chuckled then took another bite. My eyes trailed down her delicate throat to the soft swell of her breasts.
Aria touched my chest then slowly ran her hands down to my stomach, and I set the fork back down on my plate. My skin tightened under her touch, my cock springing to life. Aria’s eyes met mine as she reached for the Beretta in my waistband and pulled it out. With anybody else, my body would have gone into high alert, but with her I didn’t even feel a hint of unease. She regarded my gun for a moment before she put it down on the counter. I couldn’t look away from her face. She slid her hands into my waistband and slowly dragged my sweatpants down over my hips. I hissed when she grazed my cock. She cast her eyes up, and fuck, that look in her eyes, I could feel it right in my dick.
And then she got down on her knees, and I almost came right then. She held my gaze despite the blush spreading on her cheeks as she leaned forward, parting those perfect pink lips and taking my tip into her hot mouth. I had to stop myself from thrusting forward, but I loosened her bun and tangled my hands in her hair as she worked my cock deeper into her mouth. Fuck, my balls swelled seeing it.
She smiled around my cock and I groaned, my fingers tightening against her skull. Slowly she moved back and her fingers curled around me, and then she fucking licked from the base all the way to the top before she swirled that pink tongue around my tip. I jerked, moaning. “Fuck, Aria, you’re killing me.”
She hummed, looking fucking proud. That woman. Only mine.
I had to pull the reins a few
times like a randy teenager as her mouth worked my cock, but when Aria cupped my balls while her other hand worked my shaft and my tip hit the back of her throat, I exploded. I gripped the counter as pleasure shot through me and I erupted in her mouth. She had trouble swallowing around me, so I pulled back a bit, my dick twitching. I watched through lidded eyes as she drew back, releasing me, and wiped her mouth. This was the moment she was still the most self-conscious about. I bent down and grabbed her under the armpits and hoisted her up onto the counter before I claimed her mouth for a kiss, plunging my tongue inside, tasting myself on her, and feeling fucking possessive because of it.
Gripping her thighs, I lifted her up and her legs circled my waist. If it weren’t for all the flour, I would have fucked her right there on the counters. Instead I turned with her clinging to my torso and walked toward the stairs. Her eyes never left mine as I carried her up the stairs, and with her pussy pressed against my stomach, my cock was recovering quickly. Fuck, I could feel how wet she was. Wet from sucking my cock.
“This was supposed to be only about you,” she whispered, but her eyes brimmed with need.
“This is still about me, trust me, because giving you pleasure is the fucking best thing about all this.”
We arrived at our bed and I let myself fall forward. Aria squealed but I caught my weight with my palms, smirking down at her. She laughed, and swatted at my back. “You scared me.”
I lowered her completely and guided my cock toward her entrance, finding her ready for me, and slowly slid into her. When I was buried to the hilt, I moved down to my elbows, bringing our bodies flush together. Cupping Aria’s head, I kissed her as I moved in and out slowly.