by Soraya Naomi
Fallon’s flustered and out of breath as I grind my pelvis against her, and her nails mark a trail along my jawline. I weave my fingers through her long hair while hooking her right leg around my hip and tip her head back roughly to plunge my tongue inside her mouth again.
“All. I. Want. Is. You.” I grind the straining erection in my dress slacks against her.
Fallon stiffens suddenly, and then her entire body sags against me. “The kids could wake at any second. They’re in the bedroom.” She attempts to push me away with her hands flat against my chest.
Releasing a deep sigh, I pull back slightly and catch her lust-filled eyes. “Well, they’re asleep now, and I need to be inside you.”
She clutches the front of my shirt and smirks, ready to refuse me, but I’m not going to let her overthink this, so I kiss her hungrily, demanding her to open her mouth. And the second she welcomes my tongue and returns my kiss, I fist her hair as I continue to taste her.
Stepping back only an inch, I unbuckle my belt as she yanks my white dress shirt out of my pants. She unbuttons and pushes down my slacks as I pick her up with one hand on her ass and the other still palming her head.
I smile against her mouth because it feels good to have her under my spell. To know that she wants me as much as I want her. This woman makes me whole and she needs a reminder that she’ll always belong to me.
I practically shove us onto the floor right beside the couch and quickly hike up her dress as she moans and grips my hair. Hooking my thumb in her lace panties, I rip them off in one swift move, and after I push my boxers down to free my cock, I press my raging hard-on against her and circle a few times. When her hips jerk up and invite me in, I drive into her roughly, looping my arm under her knee and holding her head so that she’s forced to kiss me.
“Fuck, I missed you,” I whisper, growling as I thrust in and out a few times, reveling in the feel of her tightening core. She’s so wet for me.
I roll her over and pull her hips up, giving her a sharp bite and a hard slap on her ass, and I rub the pink flesh before pushing back in from behind. Her back arches, and I own her again as I steady her hips to take control while she’s trying to move at her own tempo. She’s spurring me on, and I’m enjoying reconquering her, so I spank and grope the swell of her ass, and she lets out a gratifying moan.
When I pull out, she immediately shoves me back and straddles me, kissing me hard while biting my lip. She’s fucking stunning when she slides onto me with her fingers wrapped around the base of my erection and takes me in deep.
I bunch up her dress in my hands to watch her move up and down. Then I drop my head back and close my eyes, the pleasure that only she can give me building as I dig my fingers into her hips and let her ride me.
Opening my eyes, I watch Fallon racing to her orgasm. A trickle of sweat slides into her cleavage, so I wrench her dress down to wipe it away and cover her breast with one hand. My other hand trails down and circles her soft spot under her dress until she’s panting loudly, then I stop and she looks directly at me with a lazy grin.
Rolling us over again without pulling out, I possess her, adjusting my angle as her legs lock around my waist.
“Look at me,” I order, and her amber irises meet mine, the look of adoration she used to give me returning to her gaze.
I rub her hard to make her come, and I smother her whimper with my mouth as she releases with the most satisfying moan. My own orgasm isn’t far behind, and as Fallon milks me, my balls tighten and I pour into her, never taking my eyes off her for one millisecond. I growl and we grind into each other, prolonging our release.
As my head begins to clear, I remain on top of her and she clutches my nape, so I comb her bangs from her face, whispering, “Ti amo.” I love you.
She’s dazed, still coming down from her high, yet her words heal my killer’s soul. “I love you so much.”
CHAPTER 42
Fallon
“Ti amo.” I love you. Luca’s tone sounds composed and fulfilled, which, in turn, appeases me.
“I love you so much,” I murmur against his lips, and he dips his head, slanting his mouth over mine in a slow, thorough kiss that bleeds with affection.
Then he pulls out, his pants anchored at his hips, and lifts me up to carry me to the couch where I lie back on the soft ivory cushions, thoroughly spent. Crooking my arm behind my head, I look at Luca.
“Why did you ruin my panties? Those were so comfortable,” I protest playfully, swiping my dress down to cover myself as he yanks up his pants and buckles his belt.
“I’ll get you new ones.” A wicked smirk crosses his features when he lifts my legs to sink down next to me, positioning them over his thighs.
His palm starts roaming up and down my shin in the most soothing manner, and his vivid green gaze locks on mine. “You’re so beautiful right now.”
“Thank you. I feel much calmer...and satisfied,” I murmur, and he turns his head just enough to smile at me.
In this peaceful moment, I feel as if we’re us. His love is palpable in the small gestures again. How he tells me I’m beautiful while my hair is a mess and my face has to be flushed. How he keeps caressing my leg as though he can’t stand an inch separating us. How we’re both happy within the comfortable silence as if we’ve found our home again. Although, as I glance around, I notice how much empty space we have in this penthouse due to the smaller couch.
“What are you thinking, dolcezza?” he asks, genuinely curious while I adore the way he says my nickname.
Pointing to the oak dinner table behind the couch and then at the wall behind it, I comment, “I was actually thinking that the living room is pretty bare now.”
“Because of the couch.”
“Yes. So it crossed my mind that we could build a bookcase against the wall behind the dinner table and pull the table forward. Then I’d have the library in here. We have to turn the library into two rooms for the kids anyway.”
“We can go ahead and do it now, if you want? The night feedings are almost over, so they should sleep in their own rooms.”
“When, now?”
“This week. I could get a few workers at the restaurant and pay them extra to do it within a day.” He scrubs his mouth as he glances at the wall. “We could do dark brown shelves here.”
“And a sliding library ladder?”
“Yes. And the library needs an extra wall to separate it into two rooms, each side has a bathroom with shower stall, sink, and toilet anyway. Then we’d only need to add another doorway and door. Everything in here is from American stores, so I’m sure we could have a matching door delivered quickly.”
“And they can do it in one day?”
“Yes, a few men can easily do it in one workday. I have the floor plan of the penthouse with all the measurements, and I’ll check with the crew.”
“We’ll also need to decorate their rooms...”
“We can go shopping tomorrow? We’ll take the kids with us.”
“I’d like that. I have so many ideas for Milana’s room, but not for Noah’s room,” I admit, a little ashamed.
He chuckles. “I’ll take care of Noah’s room.”
Then we both survey the expanse of our home, lost in thought. This is how we’ve grown, we pave our own journey through a maze of never-ending danger while living in luxury. See, one thing you learn in the mafia is to forgive and forget, or kill. You can’t allow regret, anger, or jealousy to distort your feelings, which is difficult when you have an all-consuming love like we have.
It’s a one-of-a-kind love that we embraced wholeheartedly until we almost drowned beneath the weight of it. But whatever Luca does, it never lessens my devotion to him. It might be temporarily clouded by annoyance, yet he always wins me back with his addictive affection. Once a mafia man gives away his heart, he loves with all of his being. And I’d do anything to keep Luca’s love.
We’re perfectly imperfect together. It’s how we’ve always been and always will be.
EPILOGUE
Luca
Valentine’s Day
“HURRY UP,” I ORDER three workers as they pack up their stuff in our penthouse and disappear into the elevator.
Adriano comes from down the hall, inspecting the wall behind the oak dinner table. “It looks great. The bedrooms are huge.”
“They did well,” I reply as my phone rings in my hand, so I bring it up. “Hey.”
“Hey, you called?” Fallon answers, and I hear a lot of background noise.
“Where are you?”
“Still at the mall with the kids. I saw a bunch of cute stuffed animals I had to get.”
Around a smile, I retort, “Then come home to show me. Are you done?”
“I still have to get lunch.”
“I’ll order lunch,” I say, not wanting her to stay away any longer. When I’m home, I need my wife with me. “Come back.”
“I’m ready, but the guard isn’t here yet, so I think I’ll walk home. I’d rather do that anyway.”
I grit my teeth but compromise, trusting in her strength. “Okay.”
“And don’t send anyone. I’m fine.”
The thought of something happening to one of them still terrifies me to my core, so I’m still just as possessive of Fallon and where she goes, but I handle it in a much better way.
“Okay,” I tell her and hang up before calling another guard on Michael’s team. As soon as he picks up, I command, “It’s Luca. Go to the mall and keep an eye on my wife and children while she walks back to the Blackhall. Make sure she doesn’t see you and has her privacy.”
“Yes sir,” he confirms and shows me he’s being trained well by Michael when he adds, “I’ll message you when I start to follow her and will message you the second she reaches the front entrance, sir.”
“Good. Thank you.” I cut the call just as Adriano shows me a knowing grin.
“I don’t have time to get into a discussion with Fallon,” I defend. “This is for my own sanity.”
He holds up his palms in fake defense. “I didn’t say a word. You two are good?”
“Yes, better actually,” I reveal in good conscience.
“I’m glad. Then prepare for the opening tonight, business as usual. No one speaks a word about the organization; remind everyone that none of the restaurant staff is aware of the Syndicate.” Walking to the elevator, he calls for it and moves inside. “I’ll see you at six.”
I nod before strolling toward the couch and ordering a chicken salad for Fallon. Luckily, within fifteen minutes, the door opens and she’s pushing in the twin stroller. Both Noah and Milana are sound asleep, wrapped warmly in their hats and coats.
Fallon brings up a brown bag. “I ran into the delivery guy.”
“That’s your chicken salad,” I reply as she rounds the stroller, and I lean down to cup the back of her head, pressing a hard kiss to her luscious pink lips.
“Thanks. I’m starving.” Then she looks at the wall and rounds the couch toward the dark wood shelves that extend halfway up to the high ceiling with a matching sliding library ladder.
The men have pulled the dinner table and the seating area closer to the windows, so there’s less empty space.
“It looks amazing! And you stocked them already.” She traces the shelves with all her paperbacks, but there’s a lot of room for extra books. “I need more paperbacks,” she says, excited, and rushes down the hall to turn right into the first bedroom.
Following her, I stand in the doorway of Noah’s room with a large arched window on the opposite wall. Beneath the navy curtains is his crib and a dresser, and the newly built partition is painted with a Jungle Book theme. On the other side is a blue wall with a connecting door that leads into the bathroom. There’s enough space to put a king-size bed and closet as the kids grow up as well.
“I love it!” Fallon exclaims, passing me in the doorway to go next door.
The room is a mirror image of Noah’s, only this arched window has plum curtains and a purple painted wall where a large dollhouse is on display. A round pink rug is positioned in the center, and Milana’s crib has also been placed by the windows with the same dresser as Noah’s standing next to it.
“See, it’s girly with the purple,” she points out since I wanted pink.
“It is.” I loop my arms around her middle from behind, kissing her temple.
“Now we have a family home,” she whispers, leaning against me.
“Our home forever,” I tell her.
It’s our home and my solace as long as she’s here. In silence, we embrace, and with her, I can just be. Without any clashing thoughts, I enjoy a simple moment in time we often take for granted.
Then I turn Fallon around without releasing her and force her to walk forward to cross the hall into our master suite. Laughing, she lets me guide her to our bed where a large rectangular white box lies on the duvet.
“What’s this?” she asks as I drop my arms from around her waist, and she bends low to lift the top. After she pushes the silver decorating paper aside, she holds up a gown. “Is this for tonight?”
“Yes, do you like it?”
“It’s stunning.” She runs her fingers over the embroidered fabric.
“We have to be ready at five thirty.”
Her gaze whips to me. “What? I thought it was seven. Mary said she was going at seven.”
“Henry and Mary are coming later. Adriano and I have to be there when it opens, being the owners.”
“Oh, shoot. I still have to go to the hairdresser to do my hair and makeup.”
“You don’t have to. You look beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m a woman – I need to groom.”
Grinning, I check my watch and suggest, “Then take your lunch. Go to the hairdresser to do your thing. A guard’s waiting downstairs, so he can drive you. I’m staying with the kids. Be back by five to dress, okay?”
“Okay. You’re the best.” She pecks my lips, hurrying out of the bedroom and out of the apartment before I’ve even reached the living room.
So as not to wake the twins up, I gingerly remove their hats and coats while they’re lying in the stroller. First, I pick up Milana who makes a face but remains asleep. I push my nose into her sparse brown hair before I lay her down in the bassinet next to the couch. Then I lift up Noah, holding him against my chest while he begins to fuss. Opening his eyes, he wails because I disturbed his sleep. His head lolls against my chest as he rouses and I can’t help but laugh.
“Are you feeling cranky, buddy? Sorry I woke you.” I rummage through the stroller and find a new red pacifier that Fallon must have gotten him that reads I love my daddy.
I press it into his mouth and he sucks eagerly. “Did mommy get you a Valentine’s gift?”
Sitting down on the couch next to the bassinet, I keep Noah against my chest, feeling his little body becoming heavier as sleep descends upon him. And I rub his back simply because it has a calming effect on me.
I stay with the twins, and knowing that Fallon’s all right, I’m absolutely content. It’s a sentiment a mafia man shouldn’t experience and certainly doesn’t deserve, but she’s given me peace in the middle of a rebellious existence.
GETTING OUT OF THE limousine, I hold out my hand to Fallon, who blinks when the cameras flash as she steps out. I lead her down the black carpet to opened double doors with an overhead sign that reads Palermo.
“Palermo? As in, the Sicilian capital where the mafia was born? I’m guessing that was Adriano’s idea?” Fallon inquires, amused, and I nod.
I watch her graceful movements as she adjusts her slim-fitting dress. A shimmering cream-colored fabric, embellished with tiny copper crystals that sparkle, hugs her snuggly from shoulder to hip.
“Wow, there are so many people.” She edges closer to straighten my black bow tie.
“Just some media for exposure,” I say, placing my hand at her lower back.
We cross the threshold into the carpeted f
oyer, passing the coat check to where the host, who’s wearing a black suit and tie, awaits us. She stands behind a tall podium next to some heavy white curtains. “Good evening, Mr. & Mrs. DeMiliano. Your table is upstairs.”
“Thank you,” I say as the curtains open automatically to expose the vast expanse of the restaurant.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Fallon’s mutters.
The floor, furnishings, and ceiling are all black, but the total effect is not too dark due to the hundreds of sophisticated hanging bowl lights that are suspended from the high Italian marble and wood ceiling. Their yellow glow dances off the square tables that are scattered in the middle of the room, covered with white tablecloths that hold tall black vases with one white dahlia as a centerpiece, and surrounded by velvet black padded chairs.
Fallon’s gaze moves around the perimeter of the first floor where we’ve installed sleek, suede banquettes that end at the bar, which has glass shelves stocked with liquor bottles climbing up the wall. Towing her with me, I careen around the tables and nod at waiters holding up trays of champagne to hand out, on the house. They’re all dressed in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black tie to match the elegant décor.
“You would definitely expect exquisite, first-class food in this ultra-modern atmosphere,” she mentions, surveying the space in awe.
We ascend the staircase leading to the balconied second floor that serves as the VIP dining area for celebrities and influential people who want their privacy and provides a stunning view of the park across the street. Turning right, we go to the hallway where Adriano’s office is situated, which is reserved for the family. Adriano, Cam, and Michael are occupying a table and greet us.
“These chairs are fucking comfortable,” Adriano remarks, shucking off his tuxedo jacket as Fallon and I claim our seats across from him.
“Hey,” Fallon greets Michael, who’s sitting next to her.