In the midst of his ransacked office, we pour our hearts out to each other. He thrusts into me with the energy of a much younger man. I can’t get over how strong he is, and how terrified all the bodyguards are to cross him. That kind of thing shouldn’t make me wet, but it does. It turns me on like nothing else.
Here I am screwing him on his desk again, while everyone else is walking on eggshells. I can feel my body rising toward a climax. The thoughts that stick with me are of strength and power, of a messy kind of love that transcends all else. I want him deeper, so I wrap my legs around his ass and push up against his cock.
He reaches the core of my body, that bright spot that no one else is allowed to touch. I can feel him dig and recede, dig and recede, again and again until I’m left with nothing but pleasure.
Francisco owns me, and I own him. We’re forging a bond between us that will outlast everything else. I don’t know how Iever thought I could leave him. The man is a part of me, the best part of me.
We come together at the same moment, our bodies convulsing. He collapses on top of me, wrapping his fingers in my hair. His dick tightens and then pulses inside me rhythmically. Waves of ecstasy wash over me from head to toe. The lights dim. The world spins a little faster on its axis.
I grab his hair and hold on tight until the magic dies down. This is it. We have nowhere else we have to be. He extracts himself delicately, as if he’s afraid of hurting me. His cock slides out and I’m left feeling empty, but I promise myself that it won’t be long until I get him to fill me again. This isn’t a one-off like it was last time. We’re married now, and there are an endless number of days and nights we can spend together.
I relax into the desk for a moment, my naked body shimmering with the after effects. He kisses my navel and each of my thighs. I smile up at him, reading a depth of love in his eyes so great that it scares me.
He begins to gather his clothing, pulling his pants on one leg at a time. I come up on my elbows to study him without looking for my own pants. Damn, he’s beautiful. I think I might turn into one of those possessive mafia wives who won’t let any other woman even look at her man.
“I think it’s time for me to move my things into your room,” I say.
“We can move them now,” he replies.
“Or we could forget our things for the moment, and just go to bed,” I suggest.
“Even better,” he answers.
We only put on enough clothes so that we can make it through the house without alarming people, before collapsing into Francisco’s bed to start our lovemaking all over again.
EPILOGUE
FRANCISCO
Ihaven’t been able to track down Carlo Andretti, even though it’s been three months. To be fair, I have been kind of busy. For all I know, he fled the country like a coward, but that doesn’t mean I won’t find the rat eventually. I have men stationed outside his frequent hangouts or anywhere else he could be, but that’s not what’s important today. Marlena and I are going to have a proper wedding, not like the shotgun variety we had in Italy.
I want everyone in my organization to know that I’m officially married. That means all the aunts and uncles, cousins, step cousins, capos and lieutenants in my army. I gave Marlena my grandmother’s ring the night we finally made love in my bed, now she wears it as her official wedding ring. The one I gave her in Italy is beautiful, but it doesn’t have the same family history. Now she wears that one occasionally on her right hand, as a flashy object when we go to parties.
I look in the mirror one more time. I’m dressed in my tuxedo, waiting to walk down the aisle. We’re doing it right this time, at my home, with an official priest rather than Marlena’s cousin. This isn’t a legal ceremony. We’re already legally joined. Thisis for my people, to show anyone out there what going after Marlena means as part of my family, but it also feels like so much more than that.
Giovanni comes to see me, bringing a bottle of champagne.
“I don’t want to drink beforehand,” I say, waving him off.
“Just one glass,” he insists.
I allow him to pour a glass and taste it. “Italian?” I guess.
“Of course,” he says. “Only the good stuff for your big day.”
We toast to my new life, my new bride, and all the challenges and triumphs that will bring. Marlena is perfect. She has enough spirit to keep me on my toes, but loves me and defers to me most of the time. I haven’t felt this way since Frankie’s mother, and it shows.
“You look great,” Giovanni says sincerely.
“Any news about Andretti?” I ask.
“Still none,” Giovanni reports. “But Marlena’s brother has come out of hiding.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised. I don’t want to be uncharitable, but I have mixed feelings about Brandon. He occupies a lot of real estate in Marlena’s mind.
“I guess he thought his sister’s wedding was too important to pass up,” Giovanni continues.
“Maybe this will draw Andretti out,” I suppose.
