I didn't want to miss a moment of it, but the way his tongue explored every inch of me, the way he learned which spots made me squirm, it wasn't enough. I needed more, needed something that I didn't want to admit to. Not given my history or the way I wondered if it would push me over the edge of sanity. But my hand reached down of its own accord, burying in his hair and pressing his face more firmly into me.
I just needed more, and I wanted to come. I wanted to remember what real pleasure felt like, and the sight of Lino, the knowledge that a man so powerful worshiped me with his tongue made a dark pleasure spread through me. He chuckled against me, bringing his finger up to me and sliding it inside me briefly before pulling it out and slipping his tongue down to fuck me with it.
"Oh God," I hissed, through my teeth, feeling like my eyes might roll right out of their sockets. He moaned, slipping his tongue back up to my clit and working it over gently as he thrust a finger back inside me.
Then two.
"So fucking tight, vita mia," he groaned, setting a furious rhythm with those fingers as he danced them against that spot inside me that made sparks fly.
"Oh fuck, please!"
"Who am I, Samara?" he asked, holding me right at the edge of an orgasm with expert skill that should have horrified me. "Who is it that's licking your pussy?"
"Lino!" I cried.
"And who the fuck am I?" he growled, a menacing warning that I felt straight down to my soul.
"My husband," I sobbed. "You're my husband, Lino."
"That's fucking right. Now, come for me, wife," he growled again, and it was the absolute command, the absolute possession in his voice that sent me spiraling over that edge finally.
My thighs tightened around his head tight enough I might have suffocated him, but he never let go. Never stopped gliding his fingers in and out of me or sucking at my clit until my limbs all collapsed back to the mattress with a thump.
When I didn't fall asleep immediately, he kissed the inside of my thigh briefly before standing from the bed. "Where are you going?" I whispered as he went for the bathroom.
He came back with a wet cloth, wiping the space between my legs clean with an intimacy I never could have expected. "I'm just going to take a shower, Little Dove," he whispered. "I'll be back before you know it."
"But what about you?"
"You just gave me the world. What more could I possibly want?" He smiled at me, stepping into the bathroom looking like he meant every word. There'd been no animosity that I hadn't returned the favor, though honestly, I would have if he'd let me recover before darting off. He'd just gotten me off again and not expected anything in return.
I didn't know what to do with that.
But I knew it got him major brownie points.
Twenty-Seven
Samara
I wanted to go home from work and give Lino the orgasm he hadn’t been expecting a few days before. Unfortunately, with the knowledge that Yavin would be coming over, probably within minutes of me getting home, I knew the orgasm wouldn't be happening.
I suspected I might spend the night trying to play interference with the boys, and the thought only exhausted me. After so long spent lounging around Lino's house and relaxing for the first time I could ever recall doing, the full workday and walk to the bistro where Emilio and I had lunch had worn me out. "I'm home!" I called when I opened the front door, turning to wave Emilio off. But the man stepped into the front door behind me, wanting verification that everything was fine and dandy within the house before he went on his way. Lino had stepped up security to include a guard rotation on the property, but it only consisted of one man at a time. We didn't have the interference of security within the house that served as our private sanctuary from the world, and I was grateful. I looked forward to wearing Lino's shirt to bed and coming down to eat breakfast in it the next morning, once we crossed the line into sex anyway.
I looked forward to having my ass sat on that counter and having him take me there, exactly the way he'd hinted he would do one day.
"Hey," Lino said, stepping into the entryway from the kitchen. He kissed me briefly, turning to Emilio and giving him a nod.
"See you in the morning, Mrs. Bellandi," Emilio said with a grin, stepping away and knowing he was dismissed.
"Bye!" I called, wincing from the nervous energy that made my voice shake. "How are we doing this? We don't have a plan. We should have a plan! Why didn't we talk about what we're going to tell him?"
"Breathe," Lino chuckled. "I'll take the lead. Yavin is... he's Yavin. He's not going to take it well, but he'll get over it eventually."
I stalked past him, going for the bottle of wine resting on the counter and pouring it into a glass. "He's going to kill you." Taking swallow after swallow, I tried to down the entire glass.
"He might try," Lino admitted with a wince. "But I can't blame him. If he touched Chiara, I'd do the same." It was so rare that Lino spoke of his siblings, and with the way his father had worked to keep them alienated from one another during childhood, I couldn’t blame him. Chiara spent most of her life at an all-girls boarding school, and Tomasso was the shit-head little brother who thought he was entitled to everything his father had. Gabriele had married Chiara off almost immediately after she graduated high school. It had worked out for the best, despite the arranged nature. Chiara loved her husband, from the few conversations I'd had with her at family dinners, but that had been when it was new. I hadn't been to a family dinner since I first married Connor.
The doorbell rang, signaling that the guard had given Yavin access to the property through the front gate. "Fuck," I hissed, taking another pull of wine.
"Relax, Samara. I've got it covered. What are you so worried about?"
"He's my big brother. I don't want to come between you two. I don't want to hurt him," I admitted, snuggling into his chest when he held his arms out for me.
"Vita mia, I hate to break it to you, but you have always been between Yavin and I. He just didn't want to see it." Lino's words reassured me, enabling me to let out the breath that felt trapped in my lungs. I nodded, before pulling back from his chest to put a more appropriate distance between us. No matter what news we delivered, I wouldn't throw it in Yavin's face the second he walked through the door. "You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good, my Stallion," I murmured. "I have you. How could I not be?" The smile he turned on me melted every trace of anxiety I felt until there was nothing left inside me but the love I felt for this man. "Thank you, for always being there when I need you. You make me happy in a way I never thought I'd ever feel again."
"I'm never going anywhere, Little Dove. Never." His lips touched mine briefly, but with a harsh urgency that meant I could feel how much it frustrated him that he couldn't give me more. That he couldn't take the time to show me just how happy I made him. Words may not have always been our strongpoint, but we communicated with our bodies just fine. It seemed ironic, given we'd had decades to work on our verbal communication, and only weeks with our bodies speaking to one another. But I realized that our bodies had always communicated, always connected. We just didn't respond to the way they talked to one another.
To the things they said, the ways they spoke and revealed all the little secrets we kept from one another.
The knock at the door didn't make me flinch, but it did make me take a deep breath. Lino went to answer the door, leaving me standing by the counter in my work clothes. I almost wished I'd changed, but it somehow felt like the clothes put me on an equal level with the guys. Lino still wore his suit from work, and I knew Yavin would go to Tease after dinner, so he'd be all suited up too.
"Hey, man," Yavin's honeyed voice said through the door, and Lino stepped back with a returned greeting so that Yavin could step in.
"Baby sister," Yavin gushed. "You look so much better."
"I am. I'm all good now, I promise." I smiled at him, letting him come up and pull me into a tight hug. It took some maneuvering to hug him without letting him f
eel the rings on my finger. Lino had said to let him take the lead in this, and I would. Yavin would never understand coming from me, I'd never be able to make him see things from my way. For him, I'd always be that kid sister who he doted on but hated to admit was a full-grown woman who could make her own decisions.
Even if they were bad ones.
He'd hated Connor as much as Lino had, and I hadn't bothered to listen to either of them. But where my marriage with Lino was concerned, Yavin didn't have a leg to stand on. He adored Lino.
Just not with me.
"What's for dinner?" Yavin asked, turning to Lino as he released me. I held in my chuckle, because it was so predictable that the most exciting part of the evening would be Lino's cooking. Yavin was as much of a failure in the kitchen as I was, and that said something.
Lino sighed, stepping over to the island and pretending to glance in the oven window. "Lasagna. It has maybe ten minutes left." When he turned back to face my brother, his hand stretched out and tucked a loose hair behind my ear. I knew it was nothing that Yavin had never seen before, Lino had always been physically affectionate with me. Yavin had just always interpreted it as a brotherly type of affection.
But the moment Lino slid his hand around my waist and tugged me into his side, Yavin's eyes narrowed and focused in on the movement. When his eyes went back up to mine, there was nothing but suspicion and disapproval in his eyes. Whatever he found in my blank stare must have confirmed those suspicions. "No. I do not fucking think so," he hissed at me. "Go pack your shit."
"Yavin," I whispered as he stepped backward and moved to gather up whatever he could see of mine in the living room.
"She's my wife, Vin," Lino said, dropping the big ball without leading into it. I glared at him, wondering why I'd let him take the lead.
"What the fuck?" Yavin spun, his voice going hoarse with rising fury.
I held up my hand with a little smile, showing the rings I'd wanted to hide for a brief time. "We're married," I confirmed.
"You married my little sister? What the fuck is wrong with you? This is Samara!" Yavin's voice only rose, getting louder and louder when he leveled his attention on Lino.
"I know exactly who Samara is," Lino argued. "I always have, and if you'd opened your eyes, you'd know that." His hand tightened on my waist briefly before he stepped away, approaching Yavin like a cornered animal.
"How could you do this to me?" Yavin asked, turning his attention to me. "Lino? Really? The only man I really consider my friend? My brother?"
"I didn't realize that my happiness meant I was doing it to hurt you," I argued, wincing with pain. What I'd always wanted, what I'd never thought I could have, suddenly seemed so far away. And it hurt that the person standing in my way was my brother of all people. One of the few people I'd thought I could always count on to have my back. "You're asking me to put your friendship above my happiness?"
"There are millions of men in this city. You didn't have to pick him," Yavin snarled.
"Watch it," Lino argued, his face twisting in fury. "You have a problem with us? You take that up with me. The reality is that there is not a fucking person in this world who was going to keep me from making her my wife. Not you. Not my father. No one. You have always known that she's the most important person in my life, why did you think that was?"
Yavin winced, drawing in a deep breath. I stared at the side of Lino's face, feeling confusion seep into my bones. When we had gotten married, he'd told me it was to keep me safe, but this sounded different. This sounded like a declaration of more, of something I'd never seen coming but had been there the entire time. "If you touch her, I swear to God I'll kill you," Yavin warned.
Lino had the grace not to smirk, though I suspected if Yavin had been anyone other than my brother, his face would have twisted into cruel satisfaction. "She's my wife, Vin. She's been in my bed since I moved her in."
"Lino!" I gasped, even though I knew it was unrealistically idiotic for Yavin to think we were married and not sleeping together. He'd trapped Lino in a corner with a statement like that, because men like Lino didn't deny their intimacies with their wives. It just wasn't who they were.
They claimed. They owned. They took.
They might not go into any detail about their sex lives out of respect for the women who took their names, but that didn't mean they didn't make it clear who they took to bed each night.
"You fucking piece of shit," Yavin whispered, storming up to Lino. His fist connected with the corner of Lino's lip, and I knew both men well enough to know Lino had allowed it.
"That's the only one you get," he confirmed with his next words, but Yavin never was one to back down. To read the signals and know when to walk away from the fight that brewed.
He struck again; the second fist aimed for Lino's nose.
"Yavin!" I shrieked, sighing in relief when Lino dodged the blow.
"I mean it, Vin. I don't want to fight you. I want you to man up and think about what your sister wants. Put her first for once," Lino growled.
"She has no place with you. You do not get to drag her into your world. You want some sick fuck to take her? Like they took Ivory?" With those words, the insinuation that Lino couldn't protect me, I stepped away from the two men. I knew, from their fights when we'd been children, that getting in the way would only result in me getting hurt.
Which made them fight more, when they argued over who caused my injury.
They may have been older now but given the way the tension rose between them I had to wonder if they'd ever gotten any wiser. Lino lunged; his shoulder connected with Yavin's gut until they went sprawling to the floor with Lino on top of him. "Stop it! Both of you!"
Lino landed his first punch, connected with Yavin's cheekbone with a thump that made me wince. "Samara is my fucking wife. Nobody is going to tell me that isn't right where she was always supposed to be. Not even you." Another fist to Yavin's face.
"Lino, stop it!" I yelled, taking a step forward and hesitating. They'd both kill me if I got involved, but I couldn't just let them fight it out. Lino hauled to his feet, holding out a hand for Yavin to help him up. But my stubborn ass brother ignored it and hauled himself to his feet. I ran to Lino's side, touching a finger to the blood at the corner of his mouth and fussing over him like I always had.
Yavin stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "You go to him?" I flinched, turning my eyes to Yavin who looked like he'd have a black eye and blood trickled from his nose.
"He's my husband," I said in answer.
"So was Connor," Yavin spat. "Look where that got you."
"Get the fuck out of my house," I snarled, leaving Lino's side to shove Yavin back with two hands on his chest. "You're his best friend, and you dare to compare him to a man who beat me and raped me?"
Yavin blanched, and I knew in that moment Lino hadn't shared that last tidbit of my secret. "Samara—"
"What exactly does this say about you that you think your best friend is capable of doing something like that? To his wife, no less?" Lino stayed back, but I could feel him vibrating in fury. If he'd thought Yavin capable of hurting me, there was no way I'd be so close to him. But even with his harsh words, as horrible as they were, Lino's beast didn't see Yavin as a threat to me.
"Smalls—" Yavin wheezed, and I knew he'd reached ultimate desperation when his childhood nickname for me slipped free.
"Do not Smalls me. I have never in my life been more ashamed of you than I am in this moment. I am a grown ass woman. You do not get to piss on me and act like you own me. Lino has never touched me in a way I didn't give explicit consent to, and that is my choice to make. Not yours!"
"But it's Lino!" Yavin protested. "He's been my best friend since we were—"
"And who brought him home, Yavin?" I whispered. "Who introduced you to Lino? Who used to sit inside with Lino when he wasn't allowed to go play sports outside? Who kept him company when he did his hours and hours’ worth of extra homework his father assigned him?" Tears st
ung my eyes, and I tried to choke them back, but failed when I shook my head at Yavin. "Who hugged him? Who listened to his stories about his father and kissed his boo boos when his father hit him, even if he was ten fucking years old and too old for that shit?"
Yavin took a step closer, wrapping a hand around the back of my head. "Can you give us a minute?" I asked Lino, who looked like he wanted to hesitate and looked to Yavin.
"If you try to take her from this house, I'll kill you myself," Lino warned. "She stays with me, always."
"I got it," Yavin grunted, not even bothering to look at him.
As soon as Lino had left the room, giving us the privacy I needed to openly talk to Yavin without worrying about how Lino might react, I rounded back on my idiot brother. "He was never yours, Yavin."
"I get that," he sighed, and for a moment I thought maybe that would be the end of it, that maybe he'd understand that what Lino and I had stemmed from all the moments we'd shared as children. That it had built through decades of me loving him. "But I've gone to clubs with the guy. I've seen the way women throw themselves at him, and yes, little sister, I've seen him take them home. I'm supposed to just accept that now he's fucking my sister and not be bothered by that?"
I held up a hand, closing my eyes against the torrent of images that I needed to fight off. "We weren't together, Yavin. You can't hold him accountable for something he did when he wasn't with me. He never so much as kissed me until a couple weeks ago, and I was married to another man. Was he supposed to become a priest?"
"It's just not the image I want to have. My best friend and my sister."
"Well for once, maybe consider the fact that this isn't about you," I hissed. "He makes me happy. He makes me feel whole again. Do you have any idea what it's like to want to be with someone for two decades and never have them? To watch them go about their life while you go about yours and be friends like it's enough? Because it's not, and it never would have been. I loved him enough to take him however I could have him, but I won't go back to that for you. And if you ask me to do that, I'll never forgive you."
Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2) Page 19