Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2)

by Adelaide Forrest

  Yavin sighed, tugging me into his chest and pressing his chin into the top of my head. "You're my baby sister. I just want what's best for you. Our life is dangerous, you have to be sure he's worth—"

  "He's worth it," I returned, my voice muffled by his chest in my face.

  We stood in silence for a few moments, and then he finally spoke the words I'd hoped for. "Okay."

  ✽✽✽

  Yavin left shortly after. He didn't apologize, and neither did Lino, given that they were stupid men. "You shouldn't have fought him. He's your friend," I scolded, sitting on the bathroom counter so that I could reach the corner of Lino's mouth more efficiently. A tiny cut had formed on the very corner of his lip, and the bleeding must have stopped while I was busy telling Yavin off.

  "He's my brother," Lino corrected, and I winced. The idea of him and Yavin being brothers, just made me feel more guilty about the visible rift I'd caused between them, even if I suspected it would be temporary.

  "No, he isn't," I huffed a humorless laugh, even if I would have rather cried.

  Lino's hands came up, trapping my face between them. "You're my wife. That means your brother is my brother." I nodded, because the reality of that felt crushing, like I could drown in the reality of what our marriage meant to my family. My mother gained her other son, my brother got the brother he always wanted.

  And me?

  I got everything.

  I smiled up at him, dabbing at the dried blood on his lip with the washcloth one last time. "Well, if we're going to unite families with this marriage, then I think we should probably consummate it," I whispered. I felt more nervous, initiating sex the second time, because I knew to the depths of my soul that I was ready. Ready to leave the old Samara behind once and for all. Embrace the Samara who could stand up as a Bellandi with her head held high. The Samara who could be a wife to a man like Lino.

  As if before, with all my bravado, I'd known I wasn't ready. Known that I needed to see Lino back down, just one more time.

  Now the thought of him backing down felt agonizing, as if the thought of not having him inside me had become painful.

  "Samara, there's no rush. We have all the time in the world."

  "I'm ready," I whispered, holding his eyes with absolute certainty. "I'm ready to feel what it's like to have you inside me. I'm ready to take you in my mouth and to take you in my pussy," I said, fighting back the flush. It felt strange to say the words to Lino, strange to voice all the fantasies I'd let myself consider for years.

  All the ways he could rock my world.

  Lino groaned. "I don't think I can stop again," he admitted. "If you aren't sure—"

  "I'm sure," I whispered, reaching down with my other hand to touch him through his slacks. My fingers brushed against the hard length of him, only once, before his mouth descended on mine and I tasted the coppery aftermath of his fight with Yavin. His hands went for my shirt, ripping it up and over my head. I had no choice but to reach behind me and undo my bra when his hand worked the buttons on his dress shirt and flung it to the side. Toeing off my pumps, I heard them fall to the floor with a thump. Lino's arms wrapped around me, lifting and carrying me to the bedroom, and I wound my legs around his waist tightly.

  "As much as I'd love to fuck you on the counter, the first time I make love to you will be in our bed," he whispered as he dropped me onto the mattress and stripped off my pants hastily. I watched his pants follow, and he crawled up between my legs, his eyes careful on my face as he settled his weight on top of me. The moment the heat of his shaft touched me, I moaned.

  No panic.

  No fear.

  Just us, and nothing had ever felt more right.

  Reaching up a hand with a smile, I tugged his face down to mine so I could kiss him. His hips rocked against me, testing gently as he made love to my mouth in the same way I imagined he would use his cock. When I didn't protest the gentle roll of his hips, he set a smooth torturous rhythm that slid his length against me. Through me.

  Building my anticipation without ever using his hand or his mouth, getting me ready for the moment when he would slide inside. He pulled his lips from mine, but kept his face close, our breaths mingling as he held my eyes. "Please," I begged, wiggling my hips slightly to torment him.

  I wanted him to slip inside, wanted his control to snap, but in that moment when I felt the head of him notch against my entrance I froze. "Condom," I sighed in disappointment.

  "No," he whispered. "Just us, Little Dove." I opened my mouth to protest, to ask him if that was smart. Even on birth control, there were other risks and other conversations we needed to have.

  But when he pressed forward, and he finally, finally slid into me, my mind was gone. He groaned, tilting his head to look between our bodies, and I wished I could see. Wished I could watch him as he took me the first time, but the position made it impossible. Shoving at his chest, he went to his knees immediately and I knew I'd made him think I panicked.

  His lungs heaved in relief when I smiled, looking down at where we joined to watch. His eyes slid down to the same place, and his hips rolled forward until I took a little more of him. "Okay?" he asked.

  "Shut up and fuck me, Lino," I gasped, unable to believe he still had more cock to give as he stretched me open. Taking my hips in his hands, he dragged me down the bed, using my own body to get inside me.

  When my ass hit his thighs, I clenched around him on a moan. "You're fucking perfect," he groaned, falling to his arms so that he held his weight just off of me. And he set a slow, torturous pace as he moved in and out of me, gliding through my wet heat and striking against the end of me until I was desperate to come.

  "Harder," I begged.

  "I don't want to scare you," he protested. My hips tilted up, meeting his thrust and giving him the perfect angle he'd need to take me the way I knew we both wanted.

  "I'm not afraid, and you won't hurt me. It's just you and me now, Stallion," I whispered, and then immediately cried out when he tightened his fingers on my ass and took.

  Harder, sharper drives of his cock that pounded into me with breathtaking force. He kept it slow, held my eyes the entire time, but the intensity increased until I whimpered beneath him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cried out, tightening around him as I exploded into a climax.

  He groaned, burying his face in my neck and filling me with heat as he came. His weight collapsed on me, and when I came down from my high, I giggled, feeling him still moving inside me in shallow thrusts like he just couldn't stop.

  With my orgasm combined with his, it felt obscene.

  "I'm on the pill, thanks," I said, with a laugh.

  He breathed his laughter into my ear, and when he finally settled down, he looked at me thoughtfully. "That's good for now I suppose. But nothing comes between us. Not even rubber."

  "You're so romantic," I cooed in a tease, screeching when he rolled me over so that I lay sprawled on top of him. With him still lodged inside me, I wondered how he still felt hard and rolled my hips to test it.

  When he moaned, I decided I should get up and clean off, but his hands at my hips stopped me from separating from him, and he smirked. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "To wash up?"

  "Leave it. I like knowing my cum is inside you." I flushed, the filth of it seeming so wrong and sank my teeth into my bottom lip. "Besides, I'm not done with you." His hands held my ass, lifting me and setting me back down so that I rode him.

  I gasped, pleasure filling me when the angle drove him right into the front wall of my pussy and stroked over that sweet spot. "Again?"

  "Again," he confirmed.

  Twenty-Eight

  Samara

  I floated on cloud nine for days. The knowledge that Lino desired me constantly felt like a drug that I couldn’t get enough of. Every time he turned his attention to me, every moment where his hands were on me felt precious. Like a gift I’d always wanted and never thought to receive.

  So I couldn’t fucking wait t
o get home, couldn’t wait to walk through the front door and find him waiting for me. I couldn’t wait for his suit to hit the floor, for the businessman to disappear and my Stallion to be left in all his glory.

  Emilio walked at my side as we made our way through the front lobby, a broad smile on his face that I’d come to recognize in the past week of him driving me to and from work. He’d warmed up to me considerably once we established our roles, but I didn’t miss the way he hated to be touched.

  He went out of his way to avoid it, in fact.

  Maybe it was just a consequence of fearing Lino might not like it, maybe he hated germs. I suspected I’d never know, because it would be too awkward to just ask. A man like him didn’t seem like the type to be thrilled to admit he was afraid of germs. Weakness in his line of work wasn’t something the Bellandi’s would tolerate, not when his job was to protect me.

  He left my side to go get the car door open, always oblivious to the glares he received as he moved for the double-parked car. He insisted Lino wouldn’t tolerate having me exposed for any longer than that, and unfortunately, I knew that was likely true.

  I gave a sheepish smile to a man that looked at me as I made my way through the cool air with snow falling around me. I was still steps away from where Emilio was unlocking the car and tugging at the handle when a gloved hand wrapped around my face. I instinctively made to scream, but the hand at my mouth muffled the sound.

  My attacker lifted me off my feet, hauling me backward and away from the car. I was vaguely aware of the people watching in horror, of the way they stopped to stare and point and whisper. I thrust my elbow back into the ribs of the man gripping me. When his hand loosened around my mouth slightly, I bit down on it until he hissed and tugged it away. “Emilio!” I screamed finally, the sound cracking through the mostly quiet street. He still hadn’t turned to look away from the car.

  Why hadn’t he noticed I was missing yet?

  But with the sound of my scream, he seemed to snap out of his daze. His eyes darted around the crowd that had started to form, the people who never bothered to try and help me while I thrashed in my attacker’s arms and he led me toward a van a few places down from the town car. When they finally landed on me, I felt a moment of panic.

  The van was getting closer, too close. With the doors wide open, it wouldn’t take long to toss me inside and drive off. Emilio sprinted forward, closing the distance between us. When the man tried to lift me into the back of the van, I lost sight of Emilio. Lost sight of everything but the empty cargo area. My feet caught the lip, kicking off and propelling myself back as hard as I could. It bought me enough time.

  Just enough for Emilio to barrel into our sides and send us crashing to the ground. He pulled his gun from its holster, pressing it against the man’s forehead until he stilled and lifted his hands. With me released, I scrambled up from the ground. “Are you alright, Mrs. Bellandi?” Emilio asked, and his voice was rough as he panted his exertion.

  I knew from my experience with some of Lino’s other friends that the bigger men weren’t made for speed. “I’m fine,” I agreed, but I crossed my arms over my chest to try and hide the trembling in my hands as I eyed the streets in hesitation.

  “Call Lino,” he ordered. “Now.”

  I closed my eyes, shuddering to think of what Lino would say.

  But I called him anyway.

  ✽✽✽

  Georgio pulled the car up next to where Emilio double parked. By some miracle, Lino and Matteo had pulled strings. The entire portion of the street was closed, nobody to see the panicked look on my face. A cop sat in front of me, looking at me with sympathy as we waited for Lino.

  As soon as the car came to a stop, Lino tossed his door open and vaulted out. His long legs made quick work of crossing the sidewalk and storming inside the emptied-out building that Lamb & Rowe called home.

  I watched his eyes dart around the space before finally landing on me. I stood, wringing my hands in front of me as he thundered toward me. When he crashed into me, his hands wrapped me tight, one around my waist and the other around the back of my head to pull me into his torso. “Fuck,” he growled.

  “I’m fine,” I mumbled into his shirt. “I promise. Not a mark.” Matteo’s Aston Martin pulled up outside, followed by the SUV I knew Scar used to drive Ivory around. “What’s going on?” I asked, glancing back at Lino. “Aren’t we going home?”

  Lino’s eyes went to where Emilio stood guard over the man who’d attacked me. He sat there silently, not speaking a word and refusing to answer any questions.

  “Angel, I told you to stay in the fucking car,” Matteo grunted as he and Scar traipsed after her. Those long legs of hers closed the distance between us quickly, and she tugged me into her for a hug and brushed her hands over my head. From the tears and the fear in her eyes, I knew she remembered how terrifying it had been for her when she’d been taken from her home.

  “You stay in the car, Matteo Bellandi,” she spat at him. He merely grinned back at his wife, and Scar stepped forward to put his hand on my shoulder.

  “You okay, Mara?” he asked. I nodded back at him, staring up into his ridiculously tall face. “Good. I’m taking both of you back to the Bellandi estate. Your husbands have something they need to deal with.” He glared over at where Emilio stood with the attacker.

  “Lino?” I asked him, turning to look up at him, but his face was morphed into the ruthless man I knew he’d need to be to get through the night.

  “Go with Scar, vita mia. I need to know you’re safe. There’s nowhere safer than Matteo’s.”

  “But—”

  “Just do this for me, Little Dove,” he whispered, and I had no choice but to nod in the face of the strain in his voice. His lips touched mine, too briefly.

  “Be careful,” I whispered, and he nodded. As Ivory took my arm and guided me away, he and Scar exchanged a heavy look.

  I didn’t need to be a man to understand what it meant.

  If anything happened to me, Lino would include Scar in the rampage I suspected he was about to undertake.

  Twenty-Nine

  Lino

  “Put him in the fucking trunk,” I growled the moment the women were out of the building.

  “Easy,” Matteo tried to soothe me, but I was beyond soothing. “Ryker’s still tracking Connor. We can pull him back, but—”

  “No need. I’ve got it.” His eyes widened, and he glanced down at where my hands were tightened into fists. With a nod to Georgio, the man moved to Emilio and the two of them lifted the guy off his feet to cart him outside.

  “We’ve got it,” Matteo responded, clapping a hand down on my shoulder. I knew from the fury that blazed in his piercing blue eyes that he remembered what he’d felt when Ivory was taken. Knew he remembered how much he’d struggled with the fact that he hadn’t been allowed to make the fucker bleed and suffer for all eternity. He wouldn’t deny me the same need for vengeance that slithered through my body like a lethal toxin that would invade every part of my life until I could release it. “No one touches our women.”

  “No one,” I grunted, and we stormed out to the Aston side by side.

  The ride to the warehouse was quick, both in distance and because of the way Matteo drove. Without Ivory in the car as precious cargo, he pushed it to the limit until we reached the worst part of town. The only people that came to this part of the city knew better than to poke their nose where it didn’t belong, so when we pulled up to Georgio and Emilio hauling Samara’s attacker out of the trunk, we didn’t think anything of it.

  Nobody would see. Nobody would care.

  We were just taking out the trash, since he wouldn’t leave the warehouse alive.

  “In the fridge,” I ordered, and the two men carted him inside. The chair in the center of the room was all prepared with ropes for us, courtesy of our meticulous torturer.

  “You have me at a disadvantage,” Matteo drawled as they tied him down. He went for Ryker’s tools, fingering
the blades affectionately. “My resident psychopath is occupied tonight, so I guess you’ll have to settle for us.” The man didn’t respond, staring at Emilio with disdain. I went to Matteo, grabbing the sledgehammer off the floor next to the table and hefting it in my arms. As soon as Emilio and Georgio stepped back, I moved in and swung it forward with all my strength.

  The crunch of his kneecap crushing beneath the force of it was satisfying in a way I’d never felt before.

  I’d killed. I’d tortured. I’d done what I had to do to survive the way I was raised, but I’d never enjoyed it. But the way the man howled in pain, trying to collapse forward, that I enjoyed. The hammer came down on his other knee just as easily, giving me another pulse of satisfaction that both soothed me and made me feel like a monster all at once.

  I used the hammer to press into his throat, tilting him back so that I could see the pain in his eyes. “You put your hands on my wife,” I growled. “Why?”

  “I didn’t know who she was, I swear,” he whimpered. Matteo chuckled, stripping off his suit jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

  “Liar,” he grinned darkly, turning his attention to the man. The small knife in his hand was perfect for one thing and one thing only. As small as it was, the blade was hefty, and Ryker kept it as sharp as could be. “Should I take a finger for each lie you tell?” he asked.

  The man swallowed and his eyes went to the hands tied to the arms of the chair. So easy for us to access. “Please no.”

  “Then why did you touch what’s mine?” I asked again, pressing into his throat harder until he choked. When he didn’t answer, Matteo pressed the blade to his pinky finger. Blood welled from the cut, but he didn’t exert enough pressure to take it. Not yet.