“Tomorrow morning, have our coroner clean up the body. We’ll go with murder-suicide,” I said, looking down at Romano and his son’s still forms. “I need to go speak with my wife in the office.”
“Okay, have fun speaking with your wife,” said Duran, stepping backwards into the hall where Iris stood. “I’m going to speak with mine somewhere upstairs. I have a shit ton of adrenaline I need to work off. Meet you back at the mansion.”
He snatched Iris’s hand and pulled her out of sight, their footfalls echoing. I turned, skimming my gaze over the empty room. The grand piano sat silent, the Christmas decor a lopsided mockery beside the bodies on the floor. Even the lights glittering around the windows and doorway felt uncanny. I took my wife’s hand and led her through the silent room, through the dining area where the empty plates still littered the table, and toward Romano’s study.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice a little hoarse.
“I’m going to fuck you on Romano’s desk.”
If she was shocked, she didn’t show it. I stepped into the office and guided her after me, closing the door firmly behind us. The chair was overturned where I’d left it when I’d pursued Romano from the room and my gun was still on the floor. I picked it up and slid it into my shoulder holster and turned to face my wife. Adrenaline surged through my body, pooling blood in my groin until I was painfully hard.
“Come here,” I said, beckoning her with my middle and index finger.
She obeyed, coming to stand between me and the desk. I ran one bloody finger down the side of her face, tilting it up and kissing her mouth slowly. Her body warmed, her lips parting to give way to me. The familiar taste of her covered my tongue and my dick throbbed against the wet front of my pants.
I knelt before her, shifting her to sit on the edge of the desk. All night, the image of her pussy and that string of pearls had teased the back of my mind. Now that Romano was dead, now that we were free, I finally had the chance to eat her the way I wanted.
She gave a little gasp as I tore the slit of her dress wider, the gauzy material giving way easily beneath my fingers. I nudged her thigh up, parting her legs further. Dear God, that sweet, little cunt had been just inches from the opening of her skirt all night. She probably still had the wetness coating her thighs from earlier when she’d sent me that video.
She gasped and her fingers wove into my wet hair. For the first time, she pushed my head down, guiding my mouth onto her pussy. Fuck, that sent a shock of arousal straight to my cock. Maybe I should let her take charge more often.
I barely had time to entertain the thought because her sweet folds were on my mouth, her taste filling my senses. I curled my tongue around the string of pearls, moving it aside, and dragged my tongue over her swollen clit. Her body tensed and she moaned, pushing back so that she sat fully on the desk, one arm propping her body up. She spread her thighs, her slender fingers tangling further into my hair, holding my head steady. Then she began moving her hips, the pearls and her clit grinding against my tongue.
My cock twitched, hot and on the edge. I dug my fingers into her thighs and let her ride my face until her legs tensed and clamped around my head. Her pussy throbbed under my mouth and she cried out as she came, a rush of wetness slipping down my chin.
Fuck, I needed her right now. I pushed her back, getting to my feet and unfastening the front of my pants. I grabbed her around the waist, yanking her off the desk and turning her around, bending her over it. The string of pearls across her cunt was in my way and I broke it with a quick jerk, pearls flying across the floor. With one hand on her lower back, I released my cock and thrust into her in a single stroke.
A shock went through her and she seized the edge of the desk, wordless sounds coming from her mouth. I fucked her hard, releasing all of the adrenaline surging through me. The desk rattled loud enough I knew they could hear it through the house, but I didn’t care. After all, the only person I would ever have to answer to again was pinned under my body, her pussy wrapped around my cock.
Chapter Twenty
Olivia
Lucien’s first few weeks as capo were tumultuous. He’d predicted that the first night as we lay in bed, but I hadn’t realized just how difficult it would be. The underbosses, although all of them had declared their loyalty to him with the exception of my father, pressed their limits. Lucien had several hours of tense exchange with each of them in his office in the city and came back exhausted, but triumphant. I wasn’t sure if he’d talked to my father yet, but I didn’t want to know. I’d purposefully avoided any contact with my family since the wedding.
In late January, I came back from lunch with Iris to find Lucien striding down the hall with his phone to his ear. When he saw me, he hung up and beckoned to me with his pointer and index fingers. Iris excused herself and ducked upstairs, the sharp sound of her heels clattering through the house.
“Olivia, I was just calling you,” Lucien said, kissing me briefly. “Your brother is here.”
“My brother?”
“Here, come to the study with me,” Lucien said, slipping his hand around my waist.
Confused, I allowed him to whisk me to his downstairs office. Inside, the fire was burning and the room smelled faintly of cigars and wood smoke. Cosimo sat on the edge of the desk, his arms crossed and a dazed expression on his face. When he saw me, he rose and moved to me swiftly, gathering me in his arms. I hugged him back as a wave of relief washed through me. It was good to finally be able to see him in person.
“I’ve removed your father as underboss,” said Lucien, sitting down behind the desk. He began rifling through papers briskly as though he hadn’t said something of real significance.
“You did what?” I gasped.
“Your father is retired,” Lucien said. “I forced him to retire and Cosimo will take his place.”
I gaped at him. “Cosimo isn’t old enough to legally rent a car, he can’t be underboss.”
“Yes, I can, Olivia,” said Cosimo firmly.
I turned to him and it hit me then that at some point, during all of this turmoil, my brother had grown up. He was a man now, not a boy playing with drink and women as he’d been just a short year ago. What had happened to bring about such a change?
“Twenty-three is old enough,” Lucien said.