by K. I. Lynn
“Grandfather said—”
“It’s not him,” he said, cutting me off. “I trust Laureano’s word. But there is bad blood between me and many of the men here.”
“Heal, and we can go.” I needed him to get better, and leaving right then was not in our best interest.
“We can go now, is what we can do.”
I shook my head. “Stop being stubborn. You can’t go how you are now.”
“The hell I can’t,” he growled as he sat up. He tried not to let the strain show, but it bled through.
I pressed my hands against his chest. “Stop. You’re fucking hurt, and you need to heal. Lie to me all you want, but I can tell you’re in pain. Think about it—can you protect me like this?”
His brow furrowed and his jaw clenched as he stared at me. “No,” he ground out.
“Then lie back, read a book, and heal so that you can.”
“Why do you have to be so fucking logical?”
“Because I need you, I want you, and for both of those things you have to be able to move around. Do I need to ask the doctor for a sedative?” I asked. His gaze narrowed at me. “Then just believe that we are safe—for now—and focus on getting better so that we can leave.”
I still had no idea what we were going to do when we left, but my focus was on getting him better. He complied, and I crawled up on the bed with him, a book of my own in hand.
Being close to him, even just while reading, calmed my frayed nerves. A few more days and he would be healed enough so that we could formulate a plan. I knew I could take care of myself, but I also knew I could use his protective nature to get him to comply.
The better he was, the better chance we had of making it out of this mess.
Two days and three books passed before Domenico was released and moved into my room. He kept his right arm close to his body and there was a hitch in his steps.
“Your mother’s?” he asked as he looked around the room.
I nodded. “He didn’t change anything. It’s exactly like I remember.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been here?” he asked as he rested on the edge of the bed.
“Almost a decade. I was thirteen.”
“That was around the same time…” He waved his hand toward his face.
“The same time?”
“A year or two after. There were a lot of changes going on at that time. The most important being when your father became consigliere.”
“He wasn’t before?” I asked. When I was younger, I was never really told what was going on. My mother shielded me from a lot.
Domenico shook his head. “He was counsel and Giovanni’s friend. When Agostino, the former consigliere, retired, your father slipped right in.”
“How does it go? Boss, Underboss, Consigliere?”
He nodded. “Then me.”
“And you are fourth because you are the most powerful capo.”
“I am.”
My gaze moved to the window. “That was when he bought that house.” One small period of time that seemed to shape the course of both of our lives. “And the last time I saw my grandfather or this house.”
“To show allegiance, he cut ties.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling even then your father was formulating how to use you to get even further into the Ferrante family?”
“Because that is his modus operandi.” I slipped my hands in his. “The doctor said you could shower.”
His eyes scanned my body. “Are you going to be my nurse and help me?”
“Do you think I’d let anyone else?”
His lips twitched up into a smirk and he pulled me closer. “It’s been six days since I’ve been inside you, and I’m not going another fucking day without feeling you come on my cock.”
“You still need to rest.”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
I rolled my eyes as I pulled up his shirt. “We need to take these off.” I gently peeled up the tape holding the gauze pads in place. The hole was scabbing over, the skin around it a myriad of colors—purple, blue, red, and yellow. Some swelling remained, but it was receding. The wound on his back was the same.
A little to his left, and he would still be lying in that bed. Instead he was up and walking, even if it wasn’t the fastest. It would take months for him to fully heal.
I leaned forward and rested my head against his shoulder blade. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to soak in his warmth, to remind myself he was alive.
He reached back and rested his hand on my hip—a simple gesture of reassurance and one I desperately needed. Having him out of that room and with me dulled the buzzing in my veins that had vibrated my core since I saw the blood on his shirt.
I blew out a breath and pulled back. He turned, his eyes meeting mine as his fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt. His hands opened, running up my sides, pushing the material up. I drew in a breath at the feel of his hands on me again, at the flames that ignited my skin.
A groan left him when he reached my breasts, cupping them and squeezing.
“You’re a tease.”
He shook his head. “Nothing is going to stop me from fucking you.”
I bit down on my lip as he pulled my shirt the rest of the way off. The fire in his eyes, his touch—he knew exactly how to light me up. To turn me on until I was begging for more.
“We should get in,” I said with a shuddered breath.
A moan slipped from his lips as he popped the button of my jeans. “You’re still wearing too much.”
I reached out and pulled at the elastic waist of his sweatpants, my fingers sweeping across his warm length. My thighs clenched as I realized he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. A groan left him as his hands slipped into my jeans and cupped my ass. He squeezed the flesh beneath and pulled me closer.
A squeak left me as we crashed together. He leaned down, his lips ghosting mine.
“There are a lot of fuckers around here that have been too close to you lately. I need to re-stake my claim. Remind them all that only I command your body.”
“Only you.”
“You’re mine and mine alone.” He closed the thin thread of a space between us.
I melted into him, into the softness of his lips and the roughness of his tongue against mine. It was like the frayed wires since he was shot fused together again, our connection solidifying as the kiss intensified.
A moan left me and I pulled back, my eyes heavy and my brain clouded with the need for more.
“We need to shower,” I reminded him as I pushed at his waistband again.
I stepped out of his arms, earning a growl from him, which subsided as he watched me strip out of my remaining clothes.
The walk-in shower, with a bench and multiple showerheads, was large enough for both of us with room to spare. After the water warmed, we stepped in. We both let out a sigh as the heat relaxed our muscles.
I was still incredibly turned on, but iodine and blood still stained his skin. After washing off, I grabbed a cloth and began to gently dab at the skin around his wound.
“How does it feel?” I asked, careful not to touch the entrance and exit.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you it didn’t hurt at all?”
I glanced up at him. “No.”
“It hurts like a bitch, but I’ll live.” He turned his head to look at me. “It’s not the first bullet I’ve taken, and it probably won’t be the last.”
I glared up at him. “That doesn’t make me feel better. Are the meds helping?” I asked. I didn’t like that he was hurting.
He looked forward again as a muscle jumped, indicating a sore spot. “I’m just on the antibiotics and ibuprofen. Had the doc wean me off the heavier stuff.”
“What? Why?” There was no reason for him to be walking around in pain.
“I don’t trust them, and I don’t want anything impairing my mind.”
With the armed guard that led
him upstairs, that didn’t really surprise me. My stomach knotted thinking about how bad he probably felt, and I prayed for it to heal faster.
I continued cleaning the area until all that remained was the discoloration caused by the bruising. When I was done, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me until we were chest to chest.
He cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. “I’ve missed these lips,” he said before leaning down. A small, restrained peck, then his hand was knotted in my hair at the base of my head as his urgency kicked up. His lips and tongue demanded, and I could do nothing but drown in his desire.
“Wait,” I said as his lips moved down my jaw.
“No,” he growled against my neck. His teeth nipped and his hips flexed, pushing his hard length against my stomach.
“But you’re injured,” I tried again. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him, because I did. I craved him inside me, being one with him, being dominated by him as I came around him. I just didn’t want him to hurt more.
“I can still fuck you.”
There was going to be no deterring him. “Don’t make me call you by your full name.”
“Go ahead. I’m not stopping until I’ve emptied myself inside you.”
He spun me in his arms and pressed on my back, bending me over until my hands rested on the tile bench. His hands gripped my hips, pulling them back as he pressed his forward, his length running across my pussy lips.
I felt the hot head of his cock at my opening before he pushed forward, slamming all the way in. My eyes popped wide before rolling back, an intense wave of pleasure crashing through me. I was still riding the wave when his pace picked up.
Grunts and groans sounded with each time he bottomed out, but there was no indication of pain. So, I let it go and gave in.
His grip was intense as he guided my hips. Each cry of pleasure that left me earned a growl and a hard slam into the same spot.
Over and over again, he took me higher and higher until all there was in the world was the two of us locked in a sea of pleasure.
As always, I was overtaken with nothing but him. Completely owned until I was nothing but a captive to his lust.
“Dom!” I cried out, unable to even finish his name.
“Who am I?” he asked as he knotted my hair and pulled me back, his thrusts never letting up.
“Mine.”
His pace increased and I cried out. I was close, so close.
“Who are you?”
“Yours,” I panted. “Only yours.”
“Damn fucking right.” His teeth pressed into my shoulder and I froze, my muscles snapping as the building pleasure released. A silent scream from my parted lips erupted into an echoing, high-pitched moan as I broke, my body shaking as I pulsed around him.
“That’s it, princess.” His thrusts picked up, drawing out my orgasm before he slammed in. A roar left him as he exploded inside me.
It was moments later when his grip on my hips let up and he pulled back. His cock slipped from me, and I instantly missed it.
“Fuck, that’s a great view.”
My muscles started to give out, so I turned and sat on the bench. He was staring down at my pussy, watching as his cum slipped out. That edge of possession in his gaze had me biting down on my lower lip to suppress the fire that wanted to spark again.
As I looked at him, all possible ideas of going again left me and I gasped at the trail of red leading from his wound. “Oh my God!” I cried out, still too weak to jump up.
He followed my gaze. “Damn. Guess I broke open the scab.”
I shook my head. “You just had to fuck me.”
He stepped forward and leaned down, one hand resting beside me on the bench while the other slipped between my thighs. I drew in a sharp breath as he slipped two fingers inside me.
“Always.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to mine. “Come on, we need to finish cleaning up and get you bandaged up again.”
He pulled his fingers from me and raised them to my lips, pressing them inside. That fire-filled light in his eyes burned brighter as I rolled my tongue around his fingers, cleaning them off.
When he pulled his hand free, he helped me to stand but held me close. “I’m never letting you go.”
My heartbeat sped up, and I reached up and cupped his face. “You never have to.”
After our shower, we got dressed for dinner with my grandfather. I was both excited and terrified by the prospect of the two of them in a room together, but it was a necessity.
Armed guards lined the halls wherever Domenico went, a huge leap in security. They wouldn’t pause in taking him out if they perceived him as a threat.
When we arrived in the dining room, my grandfather was already waiting for us. However, instead of it just being the three of us, there were two guards at the door, and I was certain another dozen were just outside.
“How are you feeling, Domenico?” my grandfather asked as we headed to the two table settings that were thankfully next to each other.
There was more to the question than politeness, but I wasn’t sure the extent.
“Sore, but I should be ready to leave soon.” Domenico nodded and held out his hand. “Laureano, I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality and generosity.”
My grandfather stared at his hand before giving it a shake. “Hmph, so you are like your father? Ever the diplomat.”
Domenico moved to his seat. “I don’t think I’d ever really considered myself that, but I am very aware it would not be wise to anger you, not after what you’ve done for us. And I am grateful for your assistance. Without it, I might not be around to protect her.”
He shook his head. “I helped you for her and her alone, make no mistake. Unfortunately, you two need each other, and as much as I dislike that, I know you are the only one who can keep her safe.”
“With my life.”
“And that is why I helped you. However, I ask that you don’t make me regret it.”
Domenico nodded. “I will do my best.”
“Good.” My grandfather gave a strained smile. “Then let’s have a pleasant dinner.”
It was a bit stilted and awkward as we ate, especially with armed guards practically breathing down our necks. Having meetings with your enemy was one thing, but having them staying under your roof was another.
The next afternoon, we took a tour and I showed off my favorite places. We were constantly followed by at least three men, and more were in every room we went.
In the library I showed him my shelf and the view from the second story.
“I can see why you have such good memories of this place. Your grandfather loves you. There is a warmth here you never received at home.”
“My father’s house was a prison, and he was the warden. Here was always a place of wonder and love. It was the only time I remember seeing my mother truly smile.”
He nodded. “My father’s house didn’t feel like a prison, more like a gauntlet. A constant onslaught, with few safe areas. Even my grandfather despised me for being a bastard child.”
“Why did you stay?” I asked.
He shook his head. “We eventually left. At fourteen my grandfather passed away, and my father became the new boss. That’s when the fighting greatly picked up, when Roman was determined to beat me, to feel superior to me, and my mother had had enough. We moved out. It was only to another Ferrante property, but it was away from Renata and my siblings.”
“I’m surprised she waited that long.”
“It was a decision a long time coming. I had a place I could finally relax in. Giovanni would come to visit almost daily, and for a few hours we were like the family he always wanted.”
“That sounds really nice.”
“Until you remember I was a hormonal teenager who hated everything and everyone and was constantly being attacked at school.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “What I wouldn’t give for those days now.”
&nb
sp; Because of the death glares from many of the men roaming the halls, we decided to head back to our room, where we stayed for the next day. Amelia brought us up meals, and we read, had sex, and relaxed as best we could.
I needed him to heal, to get better, but the tension was thick outside the confines of our room. All in all, though, it was better than the hospital room in the basement.
Domenico was napping, so I decided to take a walk. Of course, the moment I stepped out there were three men standing there. However, when I started walking, they stayed right where they were. I wasn’t the issue—Domenico was.
I returned to my favorite room to replace some of the books we’d been reading. As much as I loved the space and the happy memories it evoked, I was getting a little tired of the unknown. The constant waiting, then running, then waiting again. And while safe where we were, I was tired of being watched constantly.
I shelved the books, then curled up on the couch to soak in the atmosphere as I stared out at the gardens.
“What are you doing in here?” a voice called from the doorway.
I turned to find the capo I’d hit in the infirmary, the one I’d threatened to kill with his own gun.
“And who are you?” I asked. I hadn’t gotten his name. All I knew was that he was blocking my way out, and I didn’t like the way he was looking at me.
“Salvatore,” he said, but his stance remained rigid. “Again, what are you doing in here, traitor?”
“Traitor?” I stood and stepped up to him. “I am no traitor.”
Between his black suit, the black of his hair, and his dark eyes, he struck me as an ominous figure. He reached out and wrapped his hand around my arm. “You may have Vitale fooled, but I see right through you.”
I pulled back, but he was too strong. “Let go of me,” I growled. I didn’t think he would do anything while in my grandfather’s home, but I was beginning to doubt that.
“You’re just a fucking whore giving it up to the nastiest dick you can find.” His lips curled back, exposing his teeth.
Every warning bell inside me went off, screaming sirens that begged me to run away from the heightened anger that rolled off him.