by S. C. Ellen
Uncle Romario shrugs, “Is it safe to say that I don’t want another surprise attack on my family? We may have gotten lucky that time, but you know just how powerful our enemies can be. Look what happened to the original family, Vin, the Costanellis were untouchable and the whole lineage has been wiped clean because—”
My father slams his fist on the table. “Enough, Romario.”
The silence is deafening at the mere mention of the mafia royalty bloodline. The Costanelli family was Italy’s most powerful La Cosa Nostra. They were what held the peace between countries, and they were loved and cherished by many, until tragedy struck.
Aunt Valentina sighs, placing a hand on her forehead. “Porco cane. Always puts his foot in his mouth.”
“What happened to them?” Tessa asks, peeking around the table.
“It’s a tragic story, really. The two powerful brothers, Giovanni and Emilio, fell in love with the same poor village girl…” Jase begins.
“The villagers said Emilio was selfish and vile to all he came into contact with, especially to the poor girl, Luna. So, Giovanni took over as head of the family because Emilio wasn’t fit for the position, and he chose her to marry,” Aunt Valentina, finishes.
“Giovanni got the girl, and the title, and in a jealousy-filled rage, Emilio abandoned the family, only to come back years later to kill the whole entire family because of it.”
“He killed his own flesh and blood?” Tessa scoffs in horror.
“Every last one,” Jase replies.
The table sits quiet, sinking in the eerie tale. “That’s an awful tragedy,” Tessa whispers out, looking horrified. Jase stares at her with a strong need to comfort her, but sits still in his chair.
“It’s just a scary story, Tessa, you don’t need to have a cow over it!” Mario says with a chuckle, earning a glare from his mother.
“Mario, you better not kill me over a stinkin’ girl someday!” Max states, obnoxiously slurping up a long piece of pasta from off his plate.
Aunt Valentina cleans Mario’s sauce-filled face with a napkin, “Settle down, boys. True or not, that story of the original family is unsettling, no matter how many times I hear it.”
“What happened next to the traitor, Uncle Vin?” Max asks, leaning over his father to get a better view. “What happened to Emilio?”
“Some say that the traitorous brother died that night, and others say that he is still living in the shadows. No one really knows the truth, as all of the original familia members and soldiers have been wiped out completely since the fall of the Costanelli leadership. Of course, the story has been passed down and mixed with different variations over time, but some also believe that Giovanni had a sole heir, someone who survived the war and will take the throne back someday.”
Elliot chuffed, earning a glare from Liliana. “Sounds like a whole bunch of bologna, if you ask me.”
My eyes subconsciously drift towards Carson, noticing a nearly tangible shift in the air around him. He looks more tense than usual, and his careful mask of composure is beginning to slip. Before I can look too much into it, he suddenly excuses himself from the table, and leaves the room without another word.
Confusion marks its way into my features, and I feel a strong urge to go to him, but I know that would raise far too much suspicion, so I sit restlessly in my chair.
My mother looks at my father for a brief and terse moment before changing the subject altogether. “How is your mom doing, Tessa?” she asks with a kind smile.
Finally, Carson makes his way back inside the dining room, with the energy around him not as tense now that he smells of fresh cigarettes.
Tessa’s mood delves deeper at the mention of her mother. “Her dementia is getting worse, and she’s been saying a lot of weird things recently. The nursing home said it’s only a matter of time before the drugs stop working altogether.”
My father shares a brief glance at my mother, before he looks at Tessa with a drawn-in brow. “What do you mean she’s been saying weird things?”
Tessa nervously fidgets in her seat. “Well, she keeps going on about my poppa… And how he’s coming home with a new gift for her soon, a gift that you gave them, Uncle Vinny. And when I ask her about it, she tells me it’s a secret, that we’ll see what it is when he returns home from work. Poppa’s been dead for almost 12 years now, but she thinks otherwise.”
Carson glances over at my father, who lets out a full-bellied laugh, easing the tension forming on Tessa’s expression. “Your mother did enjoy the gifts your father often brought to her. She probably just misses it, that’s all. I believe it was in Chicago of 88 when your father caught sight of the most elegant fur coat for her in…” The conversations still flow, and I stop listening at this point, wondering why Carson is acting so strange. He’s usually good when it comes to keeping his composure, but something is off tonight.
First his abruptness at church, and now this?
My wayward thoughts are silenced. I must have been staring for way past what is deemed appropriate, because Carson turns to me in silent question.
I drop my gaze and take a heady sip of wine, mentally preparing myself for the conversation I’m going to have with him later on.
The rest of dinner passes by in a blur, and after a silent car ride home in his new G-Wagon, we’re finally back at Carson’s.
Instead of going into my room like I usually do, I take a seat at one of the barstools and pour myself a small glass of whiskey. Carson leans against the archway of the kitchen, staring at me.
I get up from my seat and take out another glass tumbler from one of the cabinets. I fill it high with the dark liquid and slide it over to the edge of the island, silently inviting him to come join me.
He pushes off of the wall and takes a sip of the drink, eyeing me with the same curiousity from before.
I tip the drink in ‘cheers’ and down a sip of the bitter liquid, instantly regretting it. My face scrunches up at the foul taste, and I have to hold back a fit of coughing. My throat feels like it was just doused in gasoline!
Carson has a small amused expression on his face. “Harsh, huh?”
“Just a little.” I shrug, taking a seat at one of the stools again. “How come I didn’t know you owned so many different companies?” I ask him as I mindlessly run a finger around the rim of my glass.
He leans against the table, setting his drink down. “You never asked.”
Huh. He’s right.
It’s the simple questions I need to ask, apparently, and should have been asking right from the get-go.
“My dream is to become a psychologist someday and open up my own practice. I always loved the idea of helping children—which is why I got my degree in social work. I was working on my PhD for a while until my boss Lisa begged me to work for her. Unfortunately, I had to put doctorate school on hold because of everything that has been going on here. It’s amazing to see broken souls put back together, piece after shattered piece.”
Carson lets out a deep breath, emptying his glass and pouring himself another. “Some souls are too irrevocably shattered to be fixed.”
My eyes seek out his. “Do you think yours is?”
His eyes flash a bright and troubling shade of green. “I don’t think, Alayna, I know.”
My heart drops at his words. He really thinks there is no hope for him. He gets up from the chair and turns away from me, but I can see his broad shoulders tense up when he braces both arms on the counter and bows his head.
There’s a terse silence that follows before he speaks again.
“I lived life the only way I knew how. The only way I could survive it. You can’t fix something that wasn’t there in the first place, Alayna. Even if I did have a soul, there would be no use in saving it. It would be as good as damned. It’s what I deserve for the hell I have inflicted on others.”
And there it is. The reason behind his strange behavior all day today. He truly and utterly believes he is damned. That there’s no saving
him and he isn’t worth the effort. A tear runs down my cheek at the thought of how troubled his mind must be, and the type of darkness that plagues his thoughts constantly.
“I wish you wouldn’t see yourself like that,” I mutter quietly.
“Wishing is for suckers. I had to learn that the hard way.” He turns the water on, washing off his dish and placing it back inside of the cabinet. He’s about to make his way out of the kitchen when I stop him.
He eyes my hand wearily for a moment, but makes no attempt to move away from it. I take a deep breath, remembering the quote that the priest from earlier had said to me. “Forgiveness is the remission of sins. For it is by this that what has been lost, and was found, is saved from being lost again—Saint Augustine.” His brows draw together, but he makes no move to leave, so I continue. “You have to forgive and let go of the past, Carson. It’s the only way you can truly be free.”
“And what if I don’t want to be free, Alayna? What if the free man is worse than the imprisoned one?”
I tighten my hold on his hand. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”
He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes hooded in deep concentration. “You are pure, mio angelo. So fucking pure, just like I always pictured you to be.” He leans in closer as his thick hand cups the side of my cheek. His touch is sweet, but his eyes are cold and daunting. “You cannot save me, naïve girl. The process will only destroy you.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong, Carson. So, so wrong.”
“How is that wrong, Alayna? I’ve seen it far too many times. Witnessed the brutality of this life. So, enlighten me…what makes you think you can outrun my darkness?”
It’s then that I know what I need to do. Stepping closer to him, I wrap my arms around his neck, making sure to keep my gaze locked onto his. “Because I won’t let it get to me. Not without a fight.”
He suddenly lifts me off of the stool and I wrap my legs around his waist.
He traces my cheek gently with his thumb, stroking it back and forth, and I relish the feeling of it. “I can’t deny myself anymore, mio angelo, and if that makes me a bigger monster than I already am, then so be it.”
His lips find mine in a breathtaking kiss. Our mouths move in sync with one another’s, and I feel the heat of the moment spiral right to the opening of my legs. He must feel it, too, because he quickly deepens the kiss and runs his hands across my back, grabbing my ass and roughly squeezing it. I moan against his lips, further enticing him to move us up the stairs and into the bedroom without breaking our connection.
He throws me onto the bed and skillfully cages himself on top of me. He inhales the side of my neck, growling in pleasure at the sight of me beneath him. “You’re a fucking cock tease, Alayna. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I thought of all the ways I could take your sweet pussy.”
My nipples harden at his words. I want nothing more than that, and I want it now. I squirm beneath him, causing my body to rub up against his. His pupils dilate until the color of his eyes are nearly almost black, and soon, his mouth trails a line of kisses from my neck to the top of my covered breasts. I let out a gasp when he pulls my shirt apart, ripping it right down the middle and exposing my bra. He cups one of my breasts in his strong hands while he frees the other. His tongue finds my nipple, gently flicking it with his tongue. Another moan escapes me, and my back arches off of the bed.
The ache between my legs is growing fiercer with need, and he knows it.
“You want me to touch you, angel?” He bites down on my nipple, causing me to whimper beneath him.
“Please, Carson.” I grab onto his arms when another wave of pleasure flashes through me at the feel of his lips on me.
“Please what?” His hand caresses my cheek again. A smug smirk plays against his lips because he knows exactly where I want him to touch me. He just wants to hear me beg for it.
“Such a stubborn, stubborn girl.” He tsks, brushing his cock against my awaiting core. “Is my cock what you want, Alayna? Or is it my fingers that you want me to fuck you with?”
“Both,” I breathlessly state, unable to take another moment of this relentless torture. He doesn’t waste another second and pulls my pants off in one swift movement.
His face flashes with a hint of surprise and approval once he realizes I wasn’t wearing any panties underneath. “It’s shameful how beautiful you are,” he whispers. “It’s a shame for any woman who has to stand next to an angel like you.”
His tender words and the way he’s looking at me right now makes me believe every word he says.
He pulls his shirt off over his head, and his pants soon after, focusing intensely on my face, while my hands explore his chest and abs, relishing in the feel of him underneath my fingertips.
“I’ve denied myself from you for too long, mio angelo.” He lowers himself back onto the bed and finds my lips again. It starts off as a gentle kiss until his hand trails low on my body and brushes over my folds.
“So, fucking wet for me,” he voices against my lips.
I let out a deep and shaky breath once his fingers start to rub along my opening. “You like that, baby?” His fingers caress me at a faster pace, and his thumb finds my overly sensitized clit.
“Yes! Oh God, yes!” I scream, grabbing onto the back of his hair as a wave of pleasure shakes through me.
He inserts two of his fingers inside of me while his thumb continues its assault on my clit. “Come for me, Alayna. I want to watch you come.”
And it’s like my body is in tune with his demands, because soon after, I’m shouting out his name with my release.
He palms his thick shaft, easing it up and down against my wet and swollen lips. “So, fucking beautiful,” he whispers with hooded eyes, “Are you on any type of birth control?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” He says before he slips fully inside of me.
My back arches, and I let out a moan that is mixed with pleasure and a bit of pain. I feel too full, but it soon becomes a blissful kind of full once he starts moving his hips.
“You are so fucking tight, baby. Your pussy is squeezing my dick in the most delicious of ways.”
His hands grab onto my thighs, holding onto them in a firm grasp as his thrusts come harder and quicker.
It’s a pleasure like I’ve never experienced. It is possessive, it is animalistic, it is Carson. He fucks me like I’m his for the taking, and his to do with whatever he damn well pleases. It isn’t gentle in any sense of the word, but fuck if that isn’t exactly what I want. What I need.
He flips me over onto my stomach with a low whistle. “What a fucking sight you are, angel.” I feel his hand deliver a smack onto one of my cheeks, and my eyes roll back in pleasure at the feel of him taking me from behind.
He owns my body in this moment, and I let him have it. I match his thrusts with my own, and I feel the wave of a second release starting to take claim.
“That’s right, baby. This pussy right here is mine. Only mine.” His hand finds my breasts again, and he pinches onto each nipple as he drives into me faster and faster.
“Fuck, Carson! Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!” I scream, almost teetering over the edge.
His cock is relentless until he hits that sweet spot inside of me, and I quickly fall into another earth-shattering orgasm, with his following right behind.
We both fall onto the bed, slick with sweat and the scent of sex heavy in the air. I roll over on my side, wincing slightly, and face him. He is looking even better than he usually does now that he’s naked and disheveled from sex.
He looks down at me apologetically, “I didn’t mean to take you that roughly.”
I smile, and then let out a yawn, feeling more content than I have in a long time. “I’m not complaining.”
He pulls me to him, and I rest my head against his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. A swell of happiness forms inside of me. I didn’t expect him to be so gentle and caring after the sex we just had, s
o this takes me by complete surprise.
I feel the vibration of his deep laughter, causing another tired smile to form on my lips. “One round is all it takes for you to tap out on me, huh?”
I watch the rise and fall of his chest almost lulling me to sleep. “Well, they don’t call you Blizzard for nothing.”
He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. My heart soars at the gesture. “Goodnight, Alayna.”
“Sweet dreams, Carson.”
And that is all I need to drift into a peaceful sleep, until Carson wakes me up later that night to show me just how many rounds he can go.
I lose count after orgasm number six.
Alayna
I stretch out my sore muscles, feeling a bit perkier than I normally would in the morning. Images of last night flood my brain, and I hug onto my pillow with a sweet smile.
“Oh, good, you’re up.” Carson walks into the room in all of his shirtless glory with a cup of coffee.
He hands me the hot drink, and I sit up with an appreciative nod, covering myself with the tangled sheets.
“You still feel the need to cover up around me, even after last night?” Carson asks with a teasing grin.
Heat rises in my cheeks, feeling slightly silly, so I let the covers fall back onto the bed, and Carson’s eyes shine bright with satisfaction.
He palms a breast in his hand, lightly pinching at my nipple. “I could never grow tired of exploring your body, mio angelo. I can’t get enough of it.”
I clutch onto the hand holding me, trailing it lower down my body. “So, don’t.”
Suddenly, the sound of his phone ringing interrupts the moment. “Shit.” He picks up the phone with a threatening tone, “This better be good, Lance.” He gives me an apologetic look and makes his way back out of the room.
I lean back onto the pillows, taking a sip of my warm coffee. Out of all of the outcomes I could have prepared myself for from the reality of last night, coffee in bed was not what I expected. I fully expected to find Carson this morning, regretting his decisions of finally giving into our connection, and hating not only me but himself for it. So, the fact that he seems to be accepting it means we are headed in the right direction. And I for one fully pledge to keep it that way if it means more mind-blowing sex…