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"Oh fuck, please!"

"Who am I, Samara?" he asked, holding me right at the edge of an orgasm with expert skill that should have horrified me. "Who is it that's licking your pussy?"

"Lino!" I cried.

"And who the fuck am I?" he growled, a menacing warning that I felt straight down to my soul.

"My husband," I sobbed. "You're my husband, Lino."

"That's fucking right. Now, come for me, wife," he growled again, and it was the absolute command, the absolute possession in his voice that sent me spiraling over that edge finally.

My thighs tightened around his head tight enough I might have suffocated him, but he never let go. Never stopped gliding his fingers in and out of me or sucking at my clit until my limbs all collapsed back to the mattress with a thump.

When I didn't fall asleep immediately, he kissed the inside of my thigh briefly before standing from the bed. "Where are you going?" I whispered as he went for the bathroom.

He came back with a wet cloth, wiping the space between my legs clean with an intimacy I never could have expected. "I'm just going to take a shower, Little Dove," he whispered. "I'll be back before you know it."

"But what about you?"

"You just gave me the world. What more could I possibly want?" He smiled at me, stepping into the bathroom looking like he meant every word. There'd been no animosity that I hadn't returned the favor, though honestly, I would have if he'd let me recover before darting off. He'd just gotten me off again and not expected anything in return.

I didn't know what to do with that.

But I knew it got him major brownie points.

Twenty-Seven

Samara

I wanted to go home from work and give Lino the orgasm he hadn’t been expecting a few days before. Unfortunately, with the knowledge that Yavin would be coming over, probably within minutes of me getting home, I knew the orgasm wouldn't be happening.

I suspected I might spend the night trying to play interference with the boys, and the thought only exhausted me. After so long spent lounging around Lino's house and relaxing for the first time I could ever recall doing, the full workday and walk to the bistro where Emilio and I had lunch had worn me out. "I'm home!" I called when I opened the front door, turning to wave Emilio off. But the man stepped into the front door behind me, wanting verification that everything was fine and dandy within the house before he went on his way. Lino had stepped up security to include a guard rotation on the property, but it only consisted of one man at a time. We didn't have the interference of security within the house that served as our private sanctuary from the world, and I was grateful. I looked forward to wearing Lino's shirt to bed and coming down to eat breakfast in it the next morning, once we crossed the line into sex anyway.

I looked forward to having my ass sat on that counter and having him take me there, exactly the way he'd hinted he would do one day.

"Hey," Lino said, stepping into the entryway from the kitchen. He kissed me briefly, turning to Emilio and giving him a nod.

"See you in the morning, Mrs. Bellandi," Emilio said with a grin, stepping away and knowing he was dismissed.

"Bye!" I called, wincing from the nervous energy that made my voice shake. "How are we doing this? We don't have a plan. We should have a plan! Why didn't we talk about what we're going to tell him?"

"Breathe," Lino chuckled. "I'll take the lead. Yavin is... he's Yavin. He's not going to take it well, but he'll get over it eventually."

I stalked past him, going for the bottle of wine resting on the counter and pouring it into a glass. "He's going to kill you." Taking swallow after swallow, I tried to down the entire glass.

"He might try," Lino admitted with a wince. "But I can't blame him. If he touched Chiara, I'd do the same." It was so rare that Lino spoke of his siblings, and with the way his father had worked to keep them alienated from one another during childhood, I couldn’t blame him. Chiara spent most of her life at an all-girls boarding school, and Tomasso was the shit-head little brother who thought he was entitled to everything his father had. Gabriele had married Chiara off almost immediately after she graduated high school. It had worked out for the best, despite the arranged nature. Chiara loved her husband, from the few conversations I'd had with her at family dinners, but that had been when it was new. I hadn't been to a family dinner since I first married Connor.

The doorbell rang, signaling that the guard had given Yavin access to the property through the front gate. "Fuck," I hissed, taking another pull of wine.

"Relax, Samara. I've got it covered. What are you so worried about?"

"He's my big brother. I don't want to come between you two. I don't want to hurt him," I admitted, snuggling into his chest when he held his arms out for me.

"Vita mia, I hate to break it to you, but you have always been between Yavin and I. He just didn't want to see it." Lino's words reassured me, enabling me to let out the breath that felt trapped in my lungs. I nodded, before pulling back from his chest to put a more appropriate distance between us. No matter what news we delivered, I wouldn't throw it in Yavin's face the second he walked through the door. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good, my Stallion," I murmured. "I have you. How could I not be?" The smile he turned on me melted every trace of anxiety I felt until there was nothing left inside me but the love I felt for this man. "Thank you, for always being there when I need you. You make me happy in a way I never thought I'd ever feel again."

"I'm never going anywhere, Little Dove. Never." His lips touched mine briefly, but with a harsh urgency that meant I could feel how much it frustrated him that he couldn't give me more. That he couldn't take the time to show me just how happy I made him. Words may not have always been our strongpoint, but we communicated with our bodies just fine. It seemed ironic, given we'd had decades to work on our verbal communication, and only weeks with our bodies speaking to one another. But I realized that our bodies had always communicated, always connected. We just didn't respond to the way they talked to one another.


Tags: Adelaide Forrest Bellandi Crime Syndicate Romance