“Right. We’re good.” They went in.
It was good.
~ 25 ~
Nick sat on a wicker chair on his cousin Carlo’s flagstone patio, drinking a beer and talking with Carlo, Luca, and John. Listening, mostly. Actually, he wasn’t really doing that, either. He was sitting with his cousins while they talked. He was watching Beverly. She was pale, and she’d been cross most of the day, at least with him. With his family, she was her usual, smiling, delightful self.
The whole family had just finished helping the kids find Easter eggs in the yard. Since Little Ben was only a year and a half, and Teresa was barely one, that meant that seven-year-old Trey had been the only kid really looking. The adults had found most of them. His cousins had turned it into a big competition, which Luca had won.
This was the sort of thing Nick didn’t get. A bunch of adults running around, digging in shrubbery for plastic eggs filled with candy. Was that supposed to be fun?
He would admit, though, that the kids were pretty cute. Teresa, just beginning to toddle, waddled after her cousins, taking two steps, falling forward and showing a little bottom covered in ruffles, then standing up again and taking two more steps, never seeming to get frustrated at her slow progress. Little Ben was a terror, running full bore back and forth across the yard, his arms pinwheeling, chasing after Elsa, the dog, roaring and barreling headlong into her side. Even Trey rolled his eyes at his little brother’s antics.
Nick turned back to Beverly. She wasn’t pregnant yet. Every time she was a little run-down, he got hopeful. Nothing yet—but she’d been tired and cranky yesterday morning, then better later in the day. This morning had been the same. She’d been so shaky at Mass that she’d stepped out, and they’d had a little whispered squabble when he’d tried to go with her. Now, as the afternoon ripened, she looked rosier and not so much like she had to try to have fun.
Morning sickness?
“Dude. You with us?” Luca elbowed him.
“What? Sorry.”
They all laughed at him. Grinning broadly, Luca said, “You’re maybe the last person I’d have expected to get that look about you, coz.”
“What look?”
“The ‘she completes me’ look. Carlo gets it all the time.”
Carlo threw a stuffed mushroom at his brother, who caught it in the air and popped it into his mouth with a smirk. “And you don’t? Please. That little girl has you tied in so many knots you don’t know which way is up.”
Luca grinned and flipped Carlo off. John, the only single guy in this group, just shrugged and shook his head.
And Nick realized he wasn’t the odd man out. Not in this group. He had something in common with Luca and Carlo. He had love. A wife. A future.
And they were more at ease with him than they’d been since he’d begun his work for Uncle Ben and his father.
She really had made him more a part of his family.
~oOo~
That night, he set the alarm and turned off the downstairs lights, got Beverly the glass of ice water she liked at night, then went up to bed. She was in the bathroom, but the door was open. He set her water on her nightstand, then leaned on the bathroom doorjamb and watched her brush out her hair. He didn’t think she’d cut it in the year they’d been together. It was more than halfway down her back now, all the myriad colors of its auburn sheen gleaming in the lights as she pulled her brush through it. His cock stretched out.
She was wearing one of the lingerie sets he’d first given her. It was too fancy for sleep. When she caught his eye, she gave him a pert little grin.
“You’re feeling better.”
“Yeah. Sorry I was a bitch this morning. I thought I’d make it up to you.”
He knew how she could make it up. “Take a test, bella.”
She sighed. “Nick. I don’t want to take a test every time I’m moody. It’s starting to freak me out. You’re obsessed.”
That was true, but he wasn’t sorry. “Two mornings in a row, you’ve felt bad, then got better. Take a test.”
“When I put on a tiny purple nightie with a crystal-encrusted bodice, I thought I’d be doing something more interesting than peeing on a stick.”
He grinned and walked up behind her, taking the brush from her and setting it on the counter. As they both watched in the mirror, he slid his hands through the slit at the front of the negligée and into the matching panties. With his mouth at her ear, he murmured, “Pee on a stick, and then I’ll do something very interesting to you.”
She sighed and leaned back against him. “Okay, okay. Get out.”
Chuckling, he kissed her cheek and went out into their bedroom. While he waited, he stripped down to his underwear. Then he sat on the bed and stared at the closed bathroom door.
She never waited out here with him. It drove him crazy, but she said he made her too anxious, so she waited for the result and then came out. This was their…fourth time. She was right: he’d wanted her to take a test every time her sunlight dimmed a little. That was probably overly controlling and a little nuts. Until she made more than the kind of gentle protest she’d made this evening, though—or until she came up pregnant—he wasn’t going to stop.
He’d turned out to be a nester.
The door opened, and he stood. This was why he’d kept his underwear on. Standing here naked, waiting to hear her report, was too vulnerable.
She tossed him the stick. That was a first. He caught it and looked.
He looked up for confirmation and found her beautiful, brilliant smile beaming happiness at him.
“See? I was right!” He wrapped her up in his arms. “Ah, bella. You’re going to be the most fantastic mother. All your love and light will grow our children up happy and strong. Tu sei un dono del cielo. Sei il mio sole. Ti amo, ti amo.”
Feeling like he couldn’t get enough of her, he kissed her, savoring the hot silk and cool taste of her freshly-brushed mouth. When he pulled away to see her, she was breathless and dazed, but she smiled.
“I thought you were going to do something interesting to me.”
He laughed. “Sassy little tart.” He picked her up off her feet. “I’m going to interest you until you pass out.”
Laying her in the center of their bed, the one he’d bought for their wedding night, he stretched out at her side, moving his hand under the silken film of her negligée to caress her belly. As he leaned down to kiss her, she held him off.
“Wait.” There was a tremor in her voice.
He frowned. “Something wrong?”
The look in her eyes was nervous; he didn’t like that.
“Bella?”
She swallowed, and he moved his hand from her belly to her face.
“What is, Beverly?”
“I…I want something. I told you I wanted to make up for my bad mood. But I’m losing my nerve.”
“Nothing you don’t want. Never that. You have nothing to make up for—I thought you were playing when you said that.”
“I do want it. I liked it. I miss it.”
Nick rose up onto his hands and looked down at her. “What is it?”
Beverly dropped her eyes from his and focused on his chest. Clearly, she was afraid. His cock began to soften, and he moved, intending to sit at her side. But she grabbed his arm. “I want you to—to tie me up.”
Almost a year had passed since she’d been attacked and brutalized by Alvin Church’s men. She’d needed months to recover physically and mentally from what they’d done to her. She’d been bound and at their mercy, and they had beaten, raped, and tortured her. Mutilated her.
Before that night, he had just begun to introduce her to the delights of scarves and blindfolds—nothing hardcore, only sensual restraint and sensation play. Since that night, he had never even broached the idea. It had taken a lot to bring them back to where they now were, and where they now were was a good place. A perfect place. A place he didn’t want to lose.
And now she was pregnant with his child.<
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“No, bella. We don’t need that.”
“I do. I don’t want to be afraid of it. It’s the last thing I’m still afraid of. I don’t want a year to have passed and to know that it still has a hold over me at all. And you like it. Right? You still like it?”
Honestly, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t have the associations from that night that she did, of course. But he had associations of his own, and a vivid imagination. And their sex had been different, deeper since they’d gotten it back. He had liked that kind of play before, but he wasn’t sure he still would.
“I want to try. Please, Nick.”
He had a vivid imagination. He also had an excellent memory, and he remembered sitting at the side of her bed, very shortly after that night, and promising her, Anything you need, anything you want. If it’s in my power to make it so, it will be so. He had not made that promise lightly. He never made any promise lightly.
Bending down, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Talk to me, bella. If you feel fear or panic, or anything you don’t want to feel, talk to me. Tell me.”
“I will.”
Easing off the bed, he shed his underwear and went to her dresser. She had a collection of pretty silk scarves in one of her drawers; he pulled two out. He would tie her hands together; tying the hands apart made for a more exposed and vulnerable sensation.
The scarves bunched in his fist, he returned to the bed, where she was still lying as he’d left her, in the middle, her hands linked across her belly.
He got onto the bed and straddled her hips, keeping his weight in his legs. Still, her expression was anxious. What he wanted tonight was to celebrate their news, not risk traumatizing her. His cock had gone completely soft, so he wasn’t even sure he could get done what she wanted. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I trust you.”
“Hold up your hands. Like you’re praying.” She did, and he slid one of the scarves through his hands, stretching it to its full length. Then he eased it over her arms, up and down, letting the silk soothe and excite her skin. When he’d last bound her, he hadn’t taken this kind of care—it had been rough and forceful, the kind of sex he’d mistaken his whole life for passion.
What they had now—that was true passion.
When her breathing became steadier and more rapid, he wrapped her wrists twice, three times, and tied a simple half knot. Then he pulled her bound arms over her head, covering her body with his as he tied her to one of the vertical slats of their headboard. As he secured the scarf, he felt her lips on his chest, and he looked down with a smile.
He wrapped his hands around her slender forearms and eased his palms over her skin, down the length of her arms, over her sides, as he returned to sit astride her.
“Tell me, bella.”
“I’m okay. It’s…good.” She sounded as if she were reassuring them both, but he trusted her, as she trusted him.
“Do you want a blindfold, or do you want to see?”
She frowned, and Nick lifted his hand, ready to release her. “I’ll close my eyes. I want to be able to see you if I need to.”
“Okay.” He set the other scarf aside. “Then close your eyes.”
She did.
He took painstaking care to be gentle and soft with her. First, all he did was trace his fingertips over all of her body that wasn’t covered by the negligée—her arms, her legs, her face, the soles of her pretty feet. He opened the split front of the sheer silk that covered her belly and danced his fingers with a feather-light touch over that quivering skin. She moaned, and her arms came forward, tightening her bonds.
He stopped. “Bella, tell me.”
“It’s good. It feels so good.” At her breathy reply, he relaxed, and his cock filled out.
The scarf he’d set aside was yellow silk. He picked it up again and played it lightly and randomly over her skin. She twisted and scissored her legs together. When she bit her lower lip, he leaned over her and kissed her, sucking it free of her teeth.
He lifted the glittery bodice of her negligée up, releasing her breasts, then leaned over to her nightstand and picked up her water glass. Condensation had beaded and fogged the outside, but there were still small chunks of ice floating in the water. He sucked one into his mouth, then returned to suckle at her breasts.
Her body bowed sharply at the chill touch of his iced mouth, and she cried out. Releasing her nipple but hovering just above it, he opened his mouth to remind her, but she preempted him.
“It’s good, it’s good. More. Please.” With a chuckle, he gave her what she wanted—more. He suckled and nipped her breasts, careful to be firmer with her right but not hurt her, until she was rocking beneath him, every breath a moan, and then he slid his hands into the little silken panties and pushed them off her hips. Her legs were free, and she lifted her hips off the bed to help him, and then kicked herself free of the wisp of purple fabric.
Then he took another cool drink, sucked in another slim piece of ice, and settled between her legs.
Now, at the icy touch of his tongue to her clit, she jumped like she’d been electrocuted.
He swallowed the ice. “Tell me.”
“Make me come,” she breathed. “I need to come.”
Her eyes were still closed. As far as he knew, she’d never yet opened them. Her trust in him was complete.
He needed something, too. Sliding up over her again, he spread her legs wide and entered her. She gasped in surprise, and her eyes flew open, and he was glad. Those gleaming blue eyes were on his right away, full of trust and love. He reached up and released the scarf with one hand, then pulled it free of her wrists.
“Hold me, bella. I need you to hold me.”
She did, wrapping her arms and legs around him so tightly she nearly came off the bed. He slid his hands under her and held her even closer, then sat back on his heels, bringing her with him. They rocked together, their bodies entirely entwined, and came together—quietly, gently, their bond unbreakable, their passion consuming.
~oOo~
After Beverly was deep in a damp, exhausted sleep, Nick eased out of bed and pulled a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on. He went out onto the balcony off the bedroom and lit a cigarette. In the bright light of a full moon, from the second floor, he could see the waves hitting the beach below. There was a heavy breeze, and the dark ink of the night ocean surged and rolled, crashing into a froth on the sand and arcing violently against the rocks. But not far out, where the ocean deepened, it grew calm, its power only apparent in the gentle heave that would become waves closer to shore.
He was going to be a father. He had real love, and they would make a family.
He was going to have a complete life. A full existence.
His world was in balance, business and family as they should be.
There were secrets, but that was the way of his world. Every good, every bad, had its equal. There would always be secrets. The balance was in keeping them deep, where the ocean heaved but didn’t crash. Where it swallowed what shouldn’t be known.
He drew on his cigarette, the ember glowing red against the dark blue of the coastal spring night.
He would keep his love, his family safe. He would never hurt Beverly, or their children. He would never allow them to be hurt, no matter what his business required of him. He would protect them from his darkness and the darkness around him. He would give his wife the life and happiness she deserved, and he would send his children on other paths than his.
She would never be sorry she’d bound herself to him.
Il vero amore è senza rimpianti. True love has no regrets.
The door opened behind him. “Hey. You’re having smoking thoughts tonight? Should I be worried?”
He stubbed out his smoke and turned to Beverly with a smile. She was wearing her terrycloth robe, a far cry from what he’d pulled off her earlier. “No, bella. No worries. Never any worries for you. Not anymore.” He drew her into his arms. She was shivering. “You’re cold. We should go in.�
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She shook her head against his chest. “No. I feel cozy like this. I want to be here for a minute.”
He kissed her temple and slid a hand over her belly, where his tiny child lay growing. “You’re everything to me, bella. I love you.”
She snuggled in even closer, and they stood together and listened to the roar of the ocean below.
Epilogue
Nick pulled a pink towel off the rod and opened it wide. He squatted and said, “Come, come,” and his daughter Lia giggled and ran into his arms. He dried her, then wound the towel around her and picked her up.
Deep (The Pagano Family Book 4) Page 33