by Bethany-Kris
“We’re not done,” Cara said calmly, “not until I say we are, Gian.”
“Come on, mon ange.”
“I’m so fucking sorry that you have had to tell yourself some kind of shit to justify why you think I’m still here. I’m sorry you must have thought I was going to run at some point, because maybe that’s just what you think I do. I’m sorry you don’t think I’m a strong enough woman, or good enough, to do this with you, but I am. I have always been, Gian. And do you want to know the one thing I have never needed to know I was that woman?”
“Try me.”
“For you to tell me. I don’t need you to tell me anything. Not that you love me, or our son. Not that you’ll be there, even when being here only digs your holes deeper elsewhere. I don’t need you to tell me how you struggle, or that you worry about me, or that your biggest fear is that in thirty years, we’re going to be just like your grandfather and his mistress. Locked away in a high-rise penthouse, hiding from the rest of the world on weekends, because we’re so wrong and bad and isn’t that just a fucking shame. Isn’t it a fucking shame that you’ve got a mistress, so nobody talks about it, because I’ll be your secret that’s not really a secret?”
“I will never be that woman,” Cara continued, “because you’ll never be that man, Gian. I am not the one between us who needs to figure that out. What do you want to do? What do you need me to make you do so that you feel justified in what you think you’ve done to me? Do you want me to put you on your knees, Gian? Crawl across the floor to me, with your head low and your eyes down because you don’t even deserve to look at me. Is that it? Do you want me to make you beg every time you come near me, or apologize again when I let you in close enough to touch me? Do you need to be forgiven, is that it?”
Gian’s lips flattened into a grim line, but he stayed quiet.
Cara didn’t really need him to talk.
“If that is what you’re waiting for, Gian, you’re going to wait a long damn time,” Cara said, never once looking away from his gaze. There, she’d always found his heart and soul. He couldn’t hide it staring back at her. “The things I needed to forgive you for, I already did. It’s not my responsibility to forgive you for things you manifest all on your own, nor is it my job to tell you I already forgave you for the things you did do. I didn’t do that for you, I did it for me. Because I love you. I have always loved you. I always will.”
She poked him hard in the middle of his naked chest.
“And that is the end of the discussion, Gian, because I said so, not you.”
“Well,” Gian said gruffly, his hand coming up to enclose Cara’s finger still poking his chest, “it’s certainly the end of this discussion. I’m starting to think we need to have an entirely different one altogether, considering your mood.”
“And what is that? Because there’s nothing else for us to say about it.”
He lowered her hand in his own. “There’s lots to say, Cara. But you’re right, and I’m sorry.”
“I’m right?”
“About everything. All of it. Every single word you said is true. It’s simply not a discussion I wanted to have because I felt a certain way about it all. Seems you didn’t feel the way I thought you would, anyway. Much like with everything else about you and me, but that’s fine, too. You’re right, Cara. You don’t owe me a thing, except what you want to give me.”
She nodded. “Okay. And this other discussion?”
“Well … that’s entirely about us, too, amore.”
“What is it?”
He stepped closer, taking her cheeks in his warm palms and making her look up at him. “Sometimes I do forget how incredible you are, Cara. Not because you’re not showing it—you always show it. I just get used to not needing to do everything for you, because you’ve got it handled. Or not telling you the same things over and over, because you don’t need to hear me say them. I forget sometimes how strong, resilient, and amazing you are. And that is a shame.”
“Oh?”
“But I don’t forget for one fucking second that you’re mine, mon ange. I will never, ever forget that.”
“You shouldn’t,” she said, barely above a breath. “I’ve always been yours, Gian.”
“Maybe, but it is one of those things we sometimes need to be reminded about. Kind of like now.”
Cara was going to ask what Gian meant, but found she didn’t have to as his hands pulled her forward, and his mouth crashed down on hers. Her lips melded with his in a familiar battle—one she hadn’t realized she had been missing. His tongue teased the seam of her mouth before she allowed him in to war with her own. There was nothing sweet or innocent about the kiss. Each stroke of his lips flamed a fire that had been dormant in Cara for a long while.
It wasn’t Gian’s fault on that end. The last time they had been intimate was shortly before Marcus’s birth, and after that, it just hadn’t been possible. She had passed her six-week waiting period to heal, and her doctor had given the okay to resume those activities, but Cara just … hadn’t thought about it.
Gian didn’t give her a reason to. She was tired sometimes, and had other things to focus on. He never pushed, never asked or demanded anything unless she brought it up.
And good God, she was suddenly reminded why it was better when Gian demanded anything from her at all. It was better because he only had to speak, or touch her, and her whole body lit up like a fucking firework.
“Yep,” Cara mumbled as her back hit the hallway wall. “Definitely missed this.”
Gian’s hot mouth traveled down over her throat, his hands skimming up under the silk nightie she wore to find her panties and pull them down roughly. “Get these off right now, Cara.”
“Jesus, you’re impatient.”
“You will find out exactly why in less than thirty seconds, I guarantee it.”
Oh, she already knew.
Cara could feel just how impatient he was, considering the hard length of his erection was digging into her thigh as he pinned her harder to the wall. “The bedroom is like two doors down, Gian.”
“So?”
Up went her silk nightie.
She didn’t see where it fell.
“Gian.”
His response to her warning was the rattle of his belt buckle before his pants fell down to the floor, and his boxer-briefs followed. He stepped out of the items without even missing a beat or taking his hands off her body.
“The baby is sleeping almost right across the—”
His hot breath pulsed against the skin of her throat, wicked and promising. “You can, can’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want this, don’t you?” he grunted into her neck, his fingers sliding between her thighs to tease her sex. “You’re so wet already.”
Cara let out a breathless laugh. “Yes.”
“Then shut up and let me fuck you, Cara.”
That was that.
Gian’s hands found the backs of her thighs, and his fingers dug in deliciously deep, holding her tight. He lifted her legs first, forcing Cara to find a very careful balance between his hard body and the wall at her back. His sinful mouth found hers for that first hard, deep thrust. It took her fucking breath away.
She’d forgotten how her body stretched for him. She’d forgotten the heat that tangled through her blood as she adjusted to his size and how full she always felt with him inside of her pussy. She certainly hadn’t expected it to be damn near the same as it had been before, but it was, and Jesus, Cara was spun.
He was not easy with her, each flex of his hips coming harder than the last until the pace between them was simply brutal. She was sure his fingerprints were going to be permanently embedded into the back of her thighs, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
“You can do better than that, Tesoro,” he taunted when she didn’t beg loud enough. And then he turned right around and uttered, “Fucking take it, Cara,” through clenched teeth, while his hand found its favorite spot. He
r throat.
Well, her favorite spot, too.
Cara thought, if it were possible, her body simply didn’t have limits where Gian was concerned. She needed his rough hands, his dirty mouth, and the way he choked her to a sweet, blissful finish. She needed it every single time, however she could get it.
Like a damn drug.
Her fingernails raked lines over the backs of his shoulders when that beautiful release finally came flooding through her, hot and heavy. She felt him shudder—from the pain or his own orgasm, she wasn’t sure.
But she heard his breath catch against her throat, and his fingers loosened on her throat as they trembled, and she knew then, anyway. His final two thrusts came harder, before his whole body tensed and she felt his release pulse inside her body.
Sweaty, breathless, and content, Cara hummed a pleased, happy sound as tremors worked their way up her spine and the orgasm faded. Gian took a slight bit longer to catch his breath, but that could have just been because he took his time dotting Cara’s neck, cheek, and mouth with soft, sweet kisses all over again.
“Careful,” he murmured as he pulled from her body and let her down to the floor. “Easy, Cara.”
She laughed quietly. “Easy would have been the bed.”
“That’s no fun.”
“It is, too.”
Gian kissed her again, firmer that time. “I will give you whatever you want in bed in the morning, I promise.”
Cara rubbed her thighs together, acutely aware of the sticky fluids there. “You made a mess.”
“We did.”
“Same difference.”
“I should have grabbed a condom,” he admitted.
Cara ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s all right. I started the pill again, anyway. Though, it won’t be effective for another two weeks.”
Gian rolled his eyes upward, then glanced down the hall at the baby’s closed bedroom door. “Right, the pill. The thing that didn’t stop Marcus from making his way into being at all.”
She patted his cheek with a wink. “There’s other ways, Gian. Besides, Marcus is wonderful, and I don’t regret him for a minute.”
“I said nothing about regret and I didn’t say I wanted to prevent anything, Cara. I am a Catholic, remember? Even if I’m not a very fucking good one in almost every other aspect.”
Cara’s gaze shot up to Gian’s, only to find his amusement lighting up his handsome features. “Is that so?”
“We never talked kids, love.”
“We just had one.”
“Exactly.” Gian scooped Cara up into a bridal embrace, walking them toward the bedroom as she snuggled in closer to his warmth and familiar scent. “I want a whole army of kids.”
“Wow.”
“Boys, preferably.”
“You don’t really get to pick, Gian.”
“A baseball team, or a half of one.”
“You’re killing me,” Cara said, shaking her head.
“Someday, Cara.”
She smiled.
Maybe.
It was decided.
The best sight in the morning was Cara on her knees, face buried into a pillow to muffle her sounds, while Gian got a mouthful of her cunt from behind, and stuffed her ass full of his fingers. He loved the way her body trembled with the need for release, and how sweat had slicked up her spine from being teased over and over.
Crazy red hair.
Flushed skin.
Sweet pussy.
Wild eyes met his over her shoulder, when he added a third finger to Cara’s ass, and replaced his mouth on her cunt with just the pad of his fingertip massaging her clit. It was the way her hips swayed and her muscles contracted that drove him crazy. She was so fucking tight around him, and he couldn’t fucking wait to get his cock feeling that, too. She always begged so well when something was filling her ass.
Yes, the very best.
“You want to come so badly, don’t you?” Gian taunted Cara, kissing her lower back between each word.
Her reply came out breathless and high—so very pretty and strained. “You know I do, Gian. Please.”
“My greedy girl. So fucking needy. Come, then.”
His mouth was back between her thighs in a heartbeat, sucking hard on her clit while his fingers pounded deeper into her ass to stretch her open. She loved that, he knew, though it had been a while. He was going to make sure it wasn’t as long between this time and the next time.
Cara’s cries turned the sweetest kind of desperate, and then muffled into the pillow as her body tensed all over. Gian chose not to complain about being unable to hear her coming, but only because he got to taste it, instead.
And sweet Jesus, she tasted heavenly when she came.
Like his own personal tart candy.
Gian had just gotten his cock lubed up, had a fistful of Cara’s hair wrapped tight around his hand, when familiar soft cries broke through his lustful haze. A baby’s cries, he realized. It took Gian far too long to realize it was his baby that was crying through the monitor on the nightstand.
Cara laughed when he stiffened above her and let go of her hair. Turning over, she leaned up and kissed him hard on his slack lips—grinning in a know-it-all sort of way. “Sorry, Gian. Raincheck on that for tonight. Either learn to fuck faster, or stop demanding I be so loud.”
“But … but …” He looked down at his fully erect, lubed cock that was aching. “But …”
He really needed to fucking come now.
Cara’s palm patted him square in the middle of his forehead, as though she were stamping something there with her hand. “Parents call that being cock-blocked. Welcome to the club.”
“Cara!” Gian shouted over his shoulder as she headed for the bedroom door. She only shrugged in response, slipping on a nightie and then a robe to fully cover up. “That’s not fair at all, mon ange!”
“Shower, and take care of it yourself, I guess.”
Holy sweet baby Jesus!
“I don’t need to take care of it myself! Cara, I haven’t taken care of myself in a decade, for fuck’s sake.”
Cara’s head popped back in the doorway. “Seems you do, actually. No better time to get reacquainted.”
She was loving this.
Gian knew he was bested—by a baby and his lover, it seemed. He could have waited, of course. Marcus liked to sleep in the mornings after his feedings, and Gian could always drag Cara back to bed and punish her for her smartass remarks, plus relieve himself in the process. It sounded like a good idea, except his fucking balls hurt like hell all of the sudden.
And that wasn’t good at all.
Gian was a ten-minute kind of morning man. Ten minutes was all he needed to jump in the shower, get dressed, and head out for the day. It was a routine he had perfected over the years. That day, it failed him entirely. It took him thirty minutes just to get through a goddamn shower, and while he got the job done, he hated every fucking second of it.
Cara was right.
He was going to have to learn to keep her quiet, or settle with a faster fucking.
He liked neither of those options.
All dressed and ready for his day—albeit in a slightly shittier mood than he suspected he would have been, had he gotten to be balls deep in Cara before seven AM—Gian headed for the kitchen. His walk slowed as voices filtered down the back hall, and it took him all of three seconds to go from shit mood to rage.
“Thank you for letting us up to talk, Miss Rossi.”
“Yes, Gian was never so kind, unless we had a warrant,” Detective Seeley added with a chuckle.
“I didn’t actually let you up,” Cara replied coolly. “I was told I had guests and allowed entrance without asking for details. Not the same thing. My mistake. Don’t think it’ll happen again.”
“Sure, well—”
“What do you want at seven-thirty in the morning?”
Gian held back from entering the kitchen, instead lingering out of sight in the hallway. There, he c
ould still hear the conversation, but the detectives wouldn’t know he was within hearing distance. Shit, he didn’t know if they were aware of his presence in the penthouse at all.
“How long have you been living here, again?” Detective Seeley asked.
“I’ve owned the penthouse for a couple of months or so. Why?”
“Curious. Where is Gian this morning?”
Cara said nothing.
The detective chuckled. “You’re not sure or he’s with his wife?”
Gian stiffened, anger flooding him all over again. Using his wife to annoy, offend, or bother Cara in any way just seemed like a prick move on the man’s part.
“Where Gian is can’t be any more or less important than whatever the fuck you want,” Cara replied sweetly.
“Little ears are listening, Miss Rossi.”
“I’m sure my son will hear worse.”
“With a mob boss for a father, I would tend to agree.”
Another dig.
Cara only laughed. “Right. Moving on. What do you want, or again, you can leave. Mornings are busy with a baby, as I’m sure you know.”
“We’ve gone over some of your interviews and statements with police after the latest attack, and wanted to go through other details with you that you may not have been aware of. Or rather, some suspicions we have that may be of interest to you, where Gian is concerned.”
“I’m sure they won’t concern me at all,” Cara said flippantly, “but you can try.”
“Never say never,” Seeley replied all too cheerfully. “Shorty before your attack, you found yourself in a bit of an awkward situation, didn’t you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Photos of you were distributed. See, the shelter reported the photos, as the owner assumed you too would be opening an investigation into such a matter.”
Gian swore he could feel Cara’s tension when she said, “I don’t know exactly what kind of legal action I could have taken for those, but I assure you whatever the penalty, it would not have fit the crime or made me feel any better.”
“Are you aware that Gian’s father-in-law was the person to distribute those photographs?”