I match her passion, my hands roaming under her shirt to feel the soft skin beneath.
“Fuck, Carmela,” I groan as she grinds against me. “You drive me crazy.”
She laughs breathlessly, nipping at my bottom lip. “Good. Someone needs to keep you on your toes.”
I grin, my hands gripping her ass to pull her harder against my aching cock. “Oh, I think we’ll be keeping each other on our toes for a long time to come, Mrs. De Luca.”
Carmela’s eyes darken at the use of her new title, a shiver running through her. “We’ll see about that, Mr. De Luca,” she whispers, before pushing herself off my lap and returning to the seat opposite, pinning me with a defiant glare.
This is going to be one hell of a ride, and I can’t fucking wait.
8
CARMELA
My eyes widen as I step out of the car, taking in the sight before me. Silvo’s home is a sprawling mansion, all elegant lines and stately grandeur. The immaculate landscaping and towering white columns make it look like something out of a fairytale. I glance over at Silvo uncertainly as he comes around to my side, offering his arm.
“Shall we, Mrs. De Luca?” His voice is tinged with amusement.
I scowl but take his arm, letting him lead me up the front steps. The massive wooden doors swing open, and suddenly we’re engulfed in a whirlwind of activity.
An older couple rushes forward, the woman embracing Silvo tightly. “Oh my boy, welcome home!” She pulls back, her eyes falling on me. “And this must be your bride! Carmela, yes? We’ve heard so much about you.”
I paste a smile on my face, trying to mask my discomfort as she pulls me into a hug. Over her shoulder, I see Silvo smirking. Bastard. He’s enjoying this.
“Mother, Father, may I present my wife, Carmela?” Silvo takes my hand, tucking it into the crook of his elbow.
Mr. De Luca steps forward, taking my hand and placing a kiss on my knuckles. “Welcome to the family, my dear. We’re so pleased to have you. I’m Antonio, and my wife is Giulia.” He gestures to an older woman who smiles warmly at me.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “You have a lovely home.”
“Ah, and here comes my baby brother now,” Silvo says, his tone teasing. “Late as usual.”
I turn to see the younger version of Silvo striding toward us, the same man who’d stood by his side at the wedding and I spoke with briefly at the reception. “I prefer to think of it as making an entrance,” he says, punching Silvo in the shoulder. He turns to me, his blue eyes twinkling. “It’s good to see you again so soon. How are you feeling after marrying this loser? I almost forgot how beautiful you are. Silvio is a lucky man indeed.”
Federico was the only family member of Silvo’s who attended the wedding. I watch the two brothers banter back and forth, Silvo rolling his eyes at Federico’s quips.
“Watch it, little brother. That’s my wife you’re talking to,” Silvo growls, pulling me closer to his side.
Fed throws his hands up in mock surrender. “My apologies, oh great one. I forgot how protective you are of your things.”
“Carmela is not a thing,” Silvo says, his voice taking on a hard edge. “She’s my wife, and you’ll treat her with respect.”
I glance up at him, surprised by the vehemence in his tone. Maybe there’s more to this man than I thought.
Fed is unfazed, grinning conspiratorially at me. “Don’t let him fool you, Carmela. Underneath that tough exterior beats the heart of a hopeless romantic. Did he tell you about the time he tried to serenade a girl from outside her window?”
“Fed!” Silvo barks, his cheeks reddening.
I can’t help but giggle at the image of Silvo, the big bad mafioso, crooning love songs in the moonlight. He shoots me a betrayed look, and I quickly school my features.
“Sounds like there’s a lot I don’t know about my husband,” I say, arching a brow at him. “Perhaps you’d be willing to fill me in, Fed?”
The younger De Luca brother grins, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “It would be my pleasure, sister. Did Silvo ever tell you about the summer we spent at Lake Como? There was this girl...”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Silvo interrupts, steering me away from his brother’s grasp. “Carmela doesn’t need to hear any more of your tall tales.”
Fed pouts, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “Spoilsport. Fine, I’ll behave. For now.” He winks at me before sauntering off, whistling a tune.
