“Damn, Silvo. You really did a number on him, huh?” Fed says, a hint of admiration in his voice. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
Silvo just grunts, his jaw clenched tight. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, and I know he’s still processing what happened.
Sophia reaches forward and squeezes my shoulder. “Are you okay, Carmela?”
I swallow hard, forcing a smile and glance back at her. “I’m fine, Soph. Thanks to Silvo.” I glance over at him, meeting his intense gaze. “He saved me.”
Something flickers in Silvo’s eyes—possessiveness, relief, and something deeper. He reaches over and takes my hand, lacing our fingers together on the center console. “I’ll always protect you. No matter what.”
His words send a shiver down my spine. I know Silvo would do anything to keep me safe, and tonight proved it. The violence should disturb me, but instead it only makes me feel more connected to him, more certain that despite how this marriage started, it’s becoming something real.
I squeeze his hand, my heart racing as I meet his heated gaze. “I know you will,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of the car engine. “I trust you, Silvo.”
And I mean it. Completely.
20
SILVO
Adrenaline still pumps through my veins as I lead Carmela back to our room. The violence from the club, the fear I felt when I saw that piece of shit put his hands on her—it all culminates in a possessive need that threatens to consume me.
I whirl around to face her, my jaw clenched tight.
“I’m going to clean that bastard’s blood off my hands,” I growl, my voice rough.
Carmela’s eyes widen, but to my surprise, she reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me in my tracks. “No, Silvo,” she says. “Take me with your hands as they are—stained with that man’s blood.”
Her words catch me off guard, and I stare at her, stunned. The defiant glint in her eyes dares me to challenge her, and in that moment, I’m reminded of why I’ve been so drawn to her since Giovani’s club in LA. Her unwavering spirit, her refusal to be cowed, speaks to me like nothing ever has.
Without a word, I pull her close, my blood-stained hands cupping her face as I kiss her. She responds with equal fervor, her body molding to mine as we lose ourselves in the heated embrace.
“Does it turn you on, seeing me like this? My hands covered in another man’s blood?” I ask, my eyes searching hers.
“You know it does, Silvo,” she says, her voice husky, sending a shiver down my spine. “You know the sight of your raw power sets my body on fire.”
Her admission sends a rush of pride through me, and I grasp her hips, pulling her firmly against me. “You like it when I play rough, when I mark you as mine.”
It’s not a question, but she answers anyway. “I do. It makes me feel...” She trails off, biting her lip as her cheeks flush a pretty pink.
“Makes you feel what, baby?” I prompt, tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze.
She swallows. “It makes me feel alive. Protected. Like I’m exactly where I belong.”
I bend my head and claim her mouth in a punishing kiss, my hands twisting in her hair to angle her head just so.
Up to now, I’ve kept my darker desires in check, wanting to ease Carmela into my world. But tonight, seeing her in danger, unleashed the beast within. That spark of defiance in her eyes—even after being attacked—dares me to push her; to show her exactly how much she means to me.
Yanking her around so her back is pressed to my chest, I unfasten the zipper down the side of her dress and strip her. My wife doesn’t resist, helping as she steps out of it and then pulls her panties down eagerly, tossing them aside.
I bite her shoulder and unfasten her bra, yanking it away. Once she’s naked for me, I cup her tits and play with her pebbled nipples.
Carmela arches her back, moaning.
“Lie on the bed,” I demand.
She does as she’s told, lying down on her back and watching me. I open my nightstand and pull out a length of rope.
Her eyes widen. “What are you going to do with that?”
