“Yeah?”
“I’m not on birth control.”
He’s silent; we both are, then I feel his lips stretch, tipping up on both sides. In the next heartbeat, he lifts himself off me, pulling out as his body rises, and that smile I thought I felt is a full-on grin, shocking me.
Glancing down, his eyes stop between my thighs. “You know, the sight of my cum dripping out of that slice of Heaven between your legs has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I should probably go pee and clean up,” I tell him, not knowing what else to say or how I should be reading the strange look on his handsome face.
“Oh, baby, we’ll shower, just not anytime soon. Now spread your legs so I can clean you up and make you come again. Give me a few. I’m going to come inside you again before this night is out.”
His head disappears between my thighs and a gasp rushes from my mouth when his tongue meets my sensitive flesh. I’m positive it’s only seconds before I’m coming for the second time tonight.
Why doesn’t the thought of Matteo shooting his seed in me scare me? He already has a daughter. Does he want another? Do I want a kid?
God, I hope my father doesn’t kill him. I’m pretty sure I’m in love, and if that’s the case, Matteo isn’t the only one fucked—so am I.
Daddy is going to kill us both.
Chapter 36
MATTEO
I shouldn’t have fucked her as many times as I did. Hell, I’m not convinced I can even call what we did fucking. It was . . . different. It was more than sex. More than two bodies coming together to reach a much-needed release. It was a lot more of one thing in particular; a thing that has a name, but one I’ve never spoken or thought of when it came to a woman I’ve been with.
It’s not that I’m afraid to say those three little words. I’m not. I’ve never felt this fiercely for someone until now, so when I do say them for the first time they’ll have a lasting meaning. She’ll feel my confession all the way down to the marrow in her bones.
Propped up on my elbow and lying on my side, I watch Sienna while she sleeps, taking in every visible inch. She’s on her stomach, her face turned my way with her hair half covering her profile. Her back expands and collapses as she breathes.
My daughter is the only person before Sienna that I’ve watched sleep, and like Brooklyn, she’s now part of me too. One I plan on keeping.
I don’t know what was going through my mind when I removed the condom. Learning she’d never been with another man must have short circuited my brain. My dick got harder. I wanted inside of her and I didn’t want any barriers. I still don’t, and as crazy as it sounds, coming inside her doesn’t scare the piss out of me like it should. In fact, it has the opposite effect. If I wasn’t forcing myself not to turn her over right this minute and wake her, I’d do it again. I will do it again.
My condom wearing days are over. As far as I’m concerned, the rest of the box can go in the trash. She’s mine. I’m hers. There is nothing and no one that will stand between us—I won’t allow it. If she does get pregnant—and at the rate we’re going, it won’t be long before that happens—then so be it.
Vibration from my phone pulls me from my thoughts. Leaning over Sienna, I snatch it from the nightstand.
Tony: Anything happens to her, I have a bullet with your name on it.
Me: I’ll have her home tomorrow.
Tony: I should just shoot you and call it a day.
Me: Or you can, not.
Tony: Be in my office at 9AM sharp. You’re late, I shoot you. You’re early, I shoot you. Capisce?
I send him a thumbs up emoji to piss the motherfucker off. I follow it with the smiley face wearing a shit eating grin.
“Matteo,” Sienna whispers. Her head lifts from the pillow, her eyes hooded in her sleepy state.
“Go back to sleep, baby,” I tell her, as I lean over once more, putting my phone back in its original spot.
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I’m about to be,” I reply. “Are you good? Do you need anything?”
We took a shower a couple of hours ago. That’s when we went into round three. I still haven’t taken her hard, and I’m not sure I will until I know I won’t hurt her.
“No. I’m okay.”
“You sure?” I question. “If you need me to get you back to sleep, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
“My vagina has closed shop for the night,” she informs me, making my stomach clench as a chuckle falls from my lips.
Falling to my back, I say, “Come here, Si. Come sleep against me.”
Not waiting for her to scoot closer, I reach for her and tug her warm, naked body until her chest is draped against half of mine. It’s seconds before her breathing evens out and I know she’s fallen back into a deep slumber. I follow within minutes, enjoying the feel of her skin against mine and knowing this is exactly how I want her every night, and how I want to wake each morning.
I show up at exactly nine o’clock, knocking on Tony’s home office door—after I did his daughter, of course. Once while she was standing at the sink in the bathroom brushing her teeth, and then again on the bed after I made her come with my tongue. Luckily, I’d already brushed my own teeth before Sienna used my toothbrush, so I opted to leave the taste of her in my mouth, on my lips.
Licking said lips, I close my eyes, remembering her spread out on the bed, my head between her thick, muscular thighs. Who knew pussy could taste that good? If I keep on this train of thought, her dad is going to open the door to find more than he was anticipating.
She’s upstairs now changing. Apparently, I made her late for work. If I have my way, I’ll be making her late for work every day, and I’m okay with that.
I’m about to knock again when the door finally opens, Tony appearing in front of me, dressed neck to feet in black. I’m starting to think his entire wardrobe is all black. It’s as though he’s permanently dressed to attend a funeral.
“You can show up on time, but you can’t return a man’s daughter after a date he didn’t sanction?” He crosses his arms over his broad shoulders, taking up most of the space in the doorway.
“She got a curfew I don’t know about?” I arch an eyebrow. She’s an adult. How the fuck does she deal with this shit? A better question would be, why is she still living in Daddy’s house, but that would go for not only Sienna, but her brothers too.
“Just get the fuck in here, Matteo.” He takes a step back into his office. Turning his back to me, he strides behind his desk but doesn’t sit. He stands, waiting for me to enter.
“Why am I here other than for you to threaten to shoot me? Again,” I add as I step over the threshold. He doesn’t answer, so I close the door and then take a seat in front of him on the other side, not waiting for instructions. If he was going to shoot me, he’d have done it the morning he put a gun to my head.
The last time I was in here the lights were bright, but now it’s dim like I’d imagine it might be if he were working late into the evening instead of first thing in the morning. His desk is cluttered. I get the feeling that’s not common. Everything I’ve observed previously tells me Tony likes everything neat and orderly.
There are cards lying haphazard. There’s a lighter and switchblade that looks . . . expensive. It’s matte black with the blade pointed in my direction. A bottle of rubbing alcohol sits atop what I’m guessing is a hand towel. There’s even gauze and a roll of bandage tape laying out in front of him.
“Do you know anything about the rite of becoming a Man of Honor?” Tony inquires, finally lowering to his chair.
There is something in his deep tone that makes my body go rigid, yet I can’t pinpoint what. He’s at ease behind a big, mahogany desk, his posture is comfortable with the air of power that’s always around him, so what’s different?
“No,” I answer, never having heard that term outside of the name of a movie, though I doubt that’s where this conversation is headed. I’m also pretty sur
e I’m not going to like the path he’s leading me down.
“It’s usually a title bestowed upon someone connected or associated with one of the families,” he explains. “It’s often referred to as a made man. Someone who graduates in a way from a soldier, so to speak.”
A chill runs down the length of my spine, the temperature in the room seemingly dropping degrees at a rapid pace. Why is he telling me this, showing me these things? He doesn’t expect . . .
“Membership has been closed since I took the reins thirty years ago; at least within the Caputo family, that is. Do you know why that is, Matteo?” He leans back, his chair rocking, and the squeaky sound echoes off of the walls.
“No. But I guess you’re going to get to that point.”
“There are only three living people that I fully trust in this world. Three,” he repeats. “I’m sure you can take a guess as to who they are.”
Sienna. Lorenzo. Domenico. His children would be my guess. But surely there are others in his family. He has a father, though Si obviously doesn’t like the former boss. Aren’t there more members of his family? I have a large extended family on my mother’s side. We’ve never been close to my dad’s side, for reasons my parents will never fully divulge aside from, we don’t associate with the mob.
“Your kids,” I state, though I still wonder about his friends, or associates, I believe the term is in his line of work.
“Smart man. And yes, my children would be the right guess.”
“What about other members of your family? Friends even?” I’m not sure why I want to know the answer. I should be running out of his office, out of his house, away from his family. But I’m not itching to leave—not one bit. I’ve always had a thirst to learn about my father’s family, to know them, to know about the Mafia’s way of life and if the movies and books depicted them with some form of accuracy. I suspect there is some truth mixed in with the fiction.
“Similar to the way your parents kept you away from Pete’s family, mine distanced themselves from my mother’s side of the family before I was born. And like me, my father was an only child. He severed ties with Sicily years before I took over. As far as friends go,” he continues, “I have them. I keep the list short, but even they aren’t family. Family are the only people you should ever trust. Everyone else will either shove a loaded gun down your throat or stab you in the back given the chance.”
“So why are you telling me this?”
“You’ve recently entered Sienna’s life. You’re rapidly becoming a fixture.” The way he says the last word is as though it’s a sour taste on his tongue.
“Back,” I say.
“Pardon?”
“You mean, back in her life.”
“You might want to rethink that statement. The first go-round doesn’t count. If it did, I’d have to kill you on principle. You snubbed my daughter from what I recall.”
“I didn’t know her then.” My head shakes on reflex. “I mean, I knew her, but we didn’t converse. We weren’t in the same circle.” Even to myself, my words sound like an excuse. Knowing her the way I do now, part of me wishes I could go back in time, but then another part doesn’t want that at all. If I’d gotten together with Sienna back then, noticed her in the way I do now, then Brooklyn wouldn’t have been born, and well, all I can say is that I am glad things happened the way they did. My daughter is my greatest accomplishment. The fact that I created her is a feeling like no other.
“Even you know that’s a sorry excuse, but it’s one I’ll overlook as long as it won’t be repeated behavior.” There’s a heartbeat of a pause where our gazes come to an understanding. Tony is showing me that when it comes to Sienna, he is not a forgiving man, and I wouldn’t expect him to be. I’d be the same with my little girl too. “The point to all of this, Matteo, is that if you are going to remain in my daughter’s life, if I’m going to trust you with her, then I have to trust you completely. For me to do that, you have to be one of us. You have to be part of the family. My family. A Caputo.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little soon for wedding bells?” That question tastes tart on my tongue. Mainly because it’s a lie. I basically told her I was going to marry her last night without saying the words outright. I told her she was mine for eternity and me hers. That was the truth last night and it remains the truth now.
“Don’t jump ahead of yourself, De Salvo. I said I was considering bringing you into the family, not making you one of my kids. You have to stop being such a disappointment for me to give over my daughter.” He arches an eyebrow high on his forehead.
Irritation, and possibly more than a notion of anger crosses my features. The top of Tony’s lip twitches with amusement, making my teeth grind together. Give her over? Wonder what he’d think if I declared she was already mine and I’m not in the habit of requesting returns.
“You going to tell me what all this bullshit on your desk is? I do have places to be and stuff to do.” My nostrils flare as I pull in air, and I lock my jaw so my mouth doesn’t continue making me sound like a disrespectful prick.
“This shit is what I was getting at, dumbass.” Tony’s lips thin before he leans forward. Snatching the blade, he eyes me, his expression hard. “This is the rite—the way you earn my trust. This is the way you enter my family without being married into it.”
“And exactly what the hell do you expect me to do? Repeat some words after you and that’s supposed to automatically make you trust me? Seems . . . dumb.”
“Seems . . . dumb that my daughter wants anything to do with you, but do you see me giving her shit for it?”
I purse my lips.
“Now, where was I? Yes, the fucking rite. Pay attention, De Salvo, I don’t like repeating myself.” He grabs a mug from the right of his computer screen on his desk and brings it to his lips, taking a sip of what I’m guessing is coffee. After he places the cup back on a coaster, he continues, the blade still in his left hand. “This would have been easier if you actually knew about your own family, been raised as one of us, but there is no use fretting over spilt milk. In the old days, to be inducted as a made man, or as others called it, a Man of Honor or Man of Respect, one first has to be an Italian or of Italian descent.”
His eyes roam up and down, an annoyed look marring his face like he wants to question my heritage. “You have the first requirement, though it’s not like I actually care. The way I see it, this is my way, so if I want to bring someone in that wasn’t born with Italian blood running through their veins, I will. Might be a better option for Si if you ask me.”
“Tony,” I bite out as I lean forward. “She’s mine. Let’s get that clear right now. I don’t give a fuck about this little display. Stop beating around the bush and tell me what the hell you want me to do. You have a knife, so if you want to cut me, or stab me, just do it. Get it over with. Because I’m not going anywhere, and it’ll be over my dead body before she goes out with another man that isn’t me.”
“As I was saying,” he starts, ignoring my rant and pissing me off. “Italian or not doesn’t matter to me. Your loyalty does. Your loyalty means everything, Matteo. This is an initiation, a baptism of sorts. It’s usually a ceremony, but that bullshit means nothing. You do this here and now. You recite the oath, as well as one other small detail. You become one of my own. You become part of my family. You are one of us for life. Even if Sienna kicks you to the curb there is no leaving the family, Matteo. It’s a commitment for life. Unlike marriage, there is no clause in the contract where divorce is an option. The only way out is death.”
“Just tell me what you want me to say and do,” I deadpan, wanting this over and still ticked off at the image he shoved in my head of Sienna with someone else. Seeing her with that guy two nights ago comes rushing back, and I could go the rest of my life without picturing that.
“You state the code of silence, I slice a cut across your hand, and you seal the deal by dripping your blood on a card before you burn it. At that point, it’s done.
You’ll be a full-fledged member of the Caputo family. So, tell me, Matteo, are you willing to go to that length to continue seeing Sienna?”
“What’s the script?” I say without hesitation. He pisses me off further when he doesn’t say anything or make one move to hand me anything. “Today, Tony. Let’s get on with this. You want me to prove my loyalty, well, tell me the words to say.”
Finally, he sits back and then he pulls open a drawer under his desk. After pulling out a small card, he hands it over to me. “Read it.”
When I reach for the card and pull, he doesn’t let it go. Instead, there is a beat of silence before he says, “You better mean every word. Don’t do this because she’s your current flavor of the month. My daughter isn’t a piece of ass. Ever treat her as such and I will put a bullet between your eyes and not feel one ounce of regret. We clear?”
“Got it.” I yank the card from his grip. Once I scan over the paragraph, taking in the words and mulling them over, I speak them, stating words that encompass loyalty and always honoring the family in life and even in death. Once the last sentence is out of my mouth, I stretch my arm across his desk, palm facing upward. “Slice away, Boss.”
I watch as the blade inches closer to my flesh, and I realize there is no fear, nothing inside me screaming for me to bolt. Only the feeling of resolve settling within my gut.
When the knife is within a centimeter of my hand, Tony suddenly retracts the blade, placing it back down in its original spot on this desk.
“You can go.”
“Wait. What?” I stand abruptly. “What the fuck?”
“It was a test, Matteo. I wanted to see if you’d actually do it. Be happy. You passed. You live another day.”
“A fucking test,” I seethe. “Are you kidding me right now?”
He glances up, his body still at ease even though my anger is rolling off me in waves.
“Leave.” His voice is low but lethal, leaving no room for argument.
Bad Princess: A Mafia Romance Page 24