Luca Vitiello (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 0)

by Cora Reilly

  Aria shook her head. “When did I say that?”

  “When I told you I wanted you, you pulled back. You looked disgusted.” Her expression had haunted me those last few days; how could she not remember?

  “We were kissing, and you said you wanted to fuck me more than any other woman. Of course, I pulled back. I’m not some whore you can use when you feel like it. You’re never home. How am I supposed to get to know you?”

  She knew everything about me that mattered, and the things she didn’t know were for the best.

  Aria sighed. “What did you think? I’ve never done anything. You are the only man I’ve kissed. You knew that when we married. You and my father made sure it was the case, and despite that you expect me to go from never having kissed a guy to spreading my legs for you. I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to get to know you so I could relax; I wanted to kiss you and do other things first before we slept together.”

  Fuck, my mind went into overdrive. “Other things? What kinds of other things?”

  Aria scowled and turned away. “This is useless.”

  “No, don’t,” I murmured, touching her cheek and gently turning it back to me. Reluctantly, I dropped my hand. “I get it. For men, the first time isn’t a big deal, or at least it wasn’t for the men I know.” I hadn’t considered that Aria would need time to get used to a man’s touch, to my touch. I’d hoped she’d be eager and curious.

  “When was your first time?” Aria asked immediately.

  “I was thirteen and my father thought it was time for me to become a real man, since I’d already been initiated. ‘You can’t be a virgin and a killer.’ That’s what he said. He paid two prostitutes to spend a weekend with me and teach me everything they knew.” I still remembered the two days I’d spent in the Foxy.

  Aria grimaced. “That’s horrible.”

  “Yeah, I suppose it is,” I said. For me, it had been what was expected. “But I was a thirteen-year-old boy who wanted to prove himself. I was the youngest member in the New York Famiglia. I didn’t want the older men to think of me as a boy, and I felt like a big deal when the weekend was over. I doubt the prostitutes were overly impressed with my performance, but they pretended that I was the best lover they’d ever had. My father probably paid them extra for it. It took me a bit to figure out that not all women like it if you come all over their face when they give you a blow job.”

  Disgust flashed across Aria’s face, and I couldn’t help but laugh, even when I hoped that she wouldn’t show the same reaction when I came in her mouth.

  “Yeah…” I let a strand of her hair trail over my finger, enjoying the silky feel of it. Aria watched me with curiosity, but she didn’t pull back. “I was really worried tonight,” I admitted.

  “Worried that I’d let someone have what’s yours,” Aria said. I didn’t miss the hint of vulnerability in her tone.

  Had I been worried that Aria would seek out other men? Never. Aria wasn’t the type. “No, I knew, I know you are loyal. Things with the Bratva are escalating. If they got their hands on you…”

  They’d hurt her. Me taking her on our wedding night, even against her will, would have been nothing compared to what they’d put her through. My stomach clenched in a mix of fury and worry.

  “They didn’t.”

  “They won’t,” I growled. I’d protect Aria no matter what it would take me. I trailed my fingers over Aria’s throat, but she leaned back.

  “You’re going to make this really difficult, aren’t you?”

  She gave me an indignant look.

  “I’m sorry for what you saw today,” I said. Apologizing was something I didn’t do. Father had beaten it out of me, but here I was doing just that.

  “But not sorry for what you did.”

  “I rarely say I’m sorry. When I say it, I mean it.” And I did. Aria shouldn’t have seen what she did, and I shouldn’t have gone to Grace. If I didn’t want to be like my father, I couldn’t act like him, not even in that regard.

  “Maybe you should say it more often.”

  “There’s no way out of this marriage for you, nor for me. Do you really want to be miserable?”

  After a moment of consideration that almost made me lose my patience, Aria gave a small shake of her head. “No. But I can’t pretend I never saw you with her.”

  I could only imagine what kind of images played out before her inner eye. Aria had never seen anything like it, and then she had to see me fucking Grace. “I don’t expect you to, but let’s just pretend that our marriage begins today. A clean start.”

  Longing flashed across her face but still she looked doubtful. “It’s not that easy. What about her? Tonight wasn’t the first time you were with her. Do you love her?” She looked so goddamn vulnerable.

  “Love? No. I don’t have feelings for Grace.” I’d never had feelings for any of the women in my life, or anyone really, except for Matteo perhaps.

  “Then why do you keep seeing her? The truth.”

  I hoped she could take the truth. “Because she knows how to suck a cock and because she’s a good fuck. Truthful enough?”

  Aria’s cheeks turned red, and again I had to touch the heated skin, needed to feel her. “I love how you blush whenever I say something dirty. I can’t wait to see your blush when I do something dirty to you.”

  “If you really want to make this marriage work, if you ever want the chance to do something dirty to me, then you’ll have to stop seeing other women. Maybe other wives don’t care, but I won’t have you touching me as long as there’s anyone else.”

  She was right, and it wasn’t as if any woman could hold my interest. I had only thought about Aria since I’d seen her photo in the newspaper, even when I was with Grace. “I promise. I’ll touch only you from now on.”

  Aria regarded me with narrowed eyes. “Grace won’t like it.”

  Grace definitely wouldn’t. “Who gives a fuck what she thinks?”

  “Won’t her father give you trouble?”

  “We pay for his campaigns, and he has a son following in his footsteps who needs our money soon as well. What does he care about a daughter who isn’t good for anything but shopping and eventually marrying a rich man?”

  “She probably hoped you’d be that man.”

  Of course she did. “We don’t marry outsiders. Never. She knew that, and it wasn’t like she was the only woman I fucked.”

  Aria blinked, obviously stunned by my admittance. “You said it yourself. You have your needs. So how can you tell me you won’t cheat on me again soon if you get tired of waiting for me to sleep with you?”

  “Do you intend to make me wait long?” I asked.

  “I think we have very different concepts of the words ‘long wait.’”

  “I’m not a patient man. If long means a year…” These last few days were already hell. The idea of sleeping in a bed with Aria for months without sleeping with her…That wasn’t something I wanted to consider.

  Aria glared.

  “What do you want me to say, Aria? I kill and blackmail and torture people. I’m the boss of men who do the same when I order them to, and soon I’ll be the Capo dei Capi, the leader of the most powerful crime organization on the East Coast, and probably the US. You thought I’d take you against your will on our wedding night, and now you’re angry because I don’t want to wait months to sleep with you?”

  Resignation crossed Aria’s face as she closed her eyes and scooted down on the bed. “I’m tired. It’s late.”

  I leaned toward her and touched her waist lightly. “No. I want to understand. I’m your husband. You aren’t like other girls who can choose the man they’re going to lose it to. Are you scared that I’m going to be rough with you because of what you saw today?”

  Aria gave the smallest shiver, confirming my suspicion, but by God, she didn’t need to be scared. “I won’t be. I told you I want you to writhe beneath me in pleasure, and while that probably won’t happen the first time I take you, I’ll make y
ou come as often as you want with my tongue and my fingers until you can come when I’m inside you. I don’t mind going slow, but what do you want to wait for?”

  Aria’s eyes fluttered open and the look in them sucked the breath cleanly out of my lungs. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t like it. This time, I managed not to run my fingers through the golden halo on the pillow.

  “I won’t make you wait for months,” Aria whispered, sounding exhausted. She closed her eyes again, looking like a sleeping queen as she did. I swallowed, unsure what to do to make her happy in this marriage, unsure if I should try.

  I lay down beside her, listening to her breathing that had already evened out in sleep.

  I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep anytime soon.

  CHAPTER 11

  I woke before sunrise after less than two hours of sleep with my arm around Aria. For a few moments, I stayed like that, enjoying that she was relaxed in my embrace in sleep. Finally, I pulled back and reached for my cell on the nightstand. I quickly typed a message to Matteo, telling him that he’d have to talk to the manager of one of our whorehouses alone, then I wrote Romero. He wouldn’t have to guard Aria today.

  “Business?” Aria asked in a sleepy voice.

  I glanced toward her and shook my head. “I cancelled my plans for the day so we can spend some time together and get to know each other.”

  Aria blinked, becoming more alert at once. “Really?”

  “Really,” I said. Resisting the urge to kiss her, I swung my legs out of bed. “I’ll get ready, and then I’ll think of something we can do today.”

  “Okay,” Aria said with a small smile.

  Thirty minutes later, I was looking into the fridge, trying to figure out what we could make for breakfast.

  Marianna had stocked the fridge well, but she wouldn’t come over to cook today. Aria came down the staircase in shorts, showing off those legs. “Can you cook?”

  Aria huffed as she headed toward me. “Don’t tell me you’ve never made breakfast for yourself?”

  “I usually grab something on my way to work, except on the days when Marianna is here and prepares something for me.” I couldn’t stop checking her out. “I love your legs.”

  Aria ignored my comment and peered into the fridge. Her arm touched mine and I had to stare down at her, at the golden crown of her head and the way her nose crinkled in thought.

  Aria reached into the fridge, taking out eggs and red peppers. She looked like she knew what she was doing. That made one of us. I stepped back and leaned against the counter to watch her cook, but Aria wouldn’t have it. She raised her eyebrows.

  “Won’t you help me? You can chop the peppers. You know how to handle a knife, from what I hear,” she said teasingly.

  I snatched a knife and stepped up beside her. Aria gazed up at me. She reached my chest and again a wave of protectiveness washed over me. Aria handed me the pepper and motioned at a wooden board. I’d seen Marianna use it for chopping before. While I cut the peppers, Aria scrambled the eggs, then poured them into a hot pan.

  “What happens to these?” I showed her the peppers I’d chopped.

  “Shit,” Aria said with a grimace, glancing between the sizzling eggs and the peppers.

  “Have you ever cooked?” I asked.

  Aria grabbed the peppers and thrust them into the cooking eggs. I doubted they’d get done before the eggs. Leaning against the counter once more, I enjoyed watching Aria trying to unstick the eggs from the pan. Her expression became increasingly frustrated.

  “Why don’t you make coffee for us?” she asked with a pointed look.

  She was really cute when she was trying to look angry.

  I humored her and went over to the coffee maker while Aria muttered curses under her breath, trying to save the eggs.

  When I finally put two cups of coffee down on the bar, Aria spooned the burnt mess of eggs down on two plates. I could stomach a lot, but this would be a new challenge. I sank down on a barstool and Aria climbed on the one beside me, watching me expectantly. Despite the burnt smell wafting up to my nose, I picked up the fork and shoved a piece of the eggs into my mouth. It was by far the worst omelet I’d ever had. Aria took a bite as well and scrunched up her face, then spit the eggs out immediately before drinking a large gulp of the coffee. She looked at me with watery eyes. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting.”

  “Maybe we should go out for breakfast,” I suggested. I had a feeling that if Aria tried to cook us something else, we’d either get food poisoning or she’d burn down the penthouse.

  Embarrassment flashed across Aria’s face as she glared down at her coffee. “How hard can it be to make an omelet?”

  My chest vibrated with suppressed laughter, but it died when my eyes dipped down to Aria’s bare legs. We were sitting close enough to touch and, gauging her reaction, I put my palm down on her knee. Aria paused with her cup against her lips. She didn’t push me away or flinch, which I took as a good sign. I ran my thumb gently over her skin. “What would you like to do today?”

  Aria’s brows drew together as she glanced between my hand on her knee and my face. Did she enjoy the touch? “The morning after our wedding night, you asked me if I knew how to fight, so maybe you can teach me how to use a knife or a gun, and maybe some self-defense,” she said.

  That wasn’t what I’d expected. Shopping or something like that, yes, but fighting?

  “Thinking about using them against me?”

  Aria rolled her eyes. “As if I could ever beat you in a fair fight.”

  “I don’t fight fair,” I teased.

  “So will you teach me?”

  “I want to teach you a lot of things,” I murmured as I cupped her knee.

  “Luca, I’m serious. I know I have Romero and you, but I want to be able to defend myself if something happens. You said it yourself: the Bratva won’t care that I’m a woman.”

  Aria didn’t know the Bratva. Even if she could defend herself, these fuckers would still be able to hurt her, if they ever got close. “Okay. We have a gym where we work out and do train. We could go there.”

  Aria smiled widely and hopped off the stool. “I’ll grab my workout clothes.”

  I hadn’t expected her to be this excited about the prospect of fighting.

  The second Aria and I entered the Famiglia gym, every man in the room stopped what they’d been doing to stare at my wife. A glower from me quickly made them look away.

  “Our changing rooms are men only. We don’t usually have female visitors.”

  Aria grinned. “I know you’ll make sure nobody sees me naked.”

  “You bet I will.” Not that any of my men would dare to look at her. They knew I’d crush them if they did.

  Aria laughed, looking happy.

  I led her toward the changing room. “Let me check if someone’s in there,” I said. The only dick Aria was going to see would be mine. I pushed inside. Three men were in different stages of undress. They turned to me and gave respectful nods.

  “I’m here with my wife, and she needs to get changed,” I said, giving them a cold smile.

  They exchanged surprised looks then quickly put on their gym clothes. After they’d left, I led Aria inside.

  Her face pulled into a grimace at the stench.

  Such a girl. “We’re not catering to sensitive female noses,” I said with a smirk.

  Aria tugged her bag out of my hand and headed for one of the lockers. I followed close behind, then dropped my own bag on a bench.

  Aria grabbed the hem of her shirt, then stopped. “Aren’t you going to give me some privacy?”

  Was she being serious? I opened my gun holster and put it down, then pulled my shirt over my head.

  Aria’s eyes took in my upper body, indignation flashing in her eyes.

  She turned her back to me before she pulled her t-shirt over her head. Aria reached for her bra, but I beat her to it and unhooked the clasp with one finger, brushing her skin. I wanted nothing more than to turn
her around and kiss her, but I took a step back and changed into my gym shorts all the while watching in rapt attention as Aria pushed down her pants. Two perfect ass cheeks came into view. She was wearing a fucking thong and then she pulled that down as well before she bent down to pick up her shorts and the sight almost undid me. Didn’t she realize what kind of view she just gave me? I exhaled. The small glimpse of her pussy sent blood into my cock.

  I was almost relieved when she got dressed in tiny running shorts. When Aria turned around to face me, her eyes darted to the bulge in my pants and her eyebrows skyrocketed as her cheeks turned red once more.

  “That’s what you’re wearing for self-defense lessons?” The shorts barely covered her upper thighs and were skin-tight, as was her tank top.

  “I don’t have anything else. This is what I wear when I go jogging.”

  “You realize I’ll have to kick every guy’s ass who looks at you the wrong way, right? And looking like that, my men will have a hard time not looking at you the wrong way.”

  “It’s not my job to make them control themselves. Just because I’m wearing revealing clothes doesn’t mean I’m inviting them to look. If they can’t behave themselves, that’s their problem.”

  Oh, they would behave themselves…

  I nodded toward the door and led Aria outside, my hand in the small of her back. A few men looked up, then quickly down. I steered Aria toward the sparring mats, which two soldiers vacated with respectful nods the moment we approached. From the array of knives hanging at the wall, I picked one that was good for beginners and not too heavy, then held it out to Aria who took it with a look of confusion.

  We faced each other on the mat. “Attack me, but try not to cut yourself.”

  “Won’t you get a knife too?”

  “I don’t need one. I’ll have yours in a minute.” My biggest challenge would be to fight Aria without hurting her. I’d never had to be careful in a fight before, but she was tiny in comparison to me.