Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  Her entire body is rigid, still, then she begins to relax and I lick her whole pussy in long strokes until she is completely and totally boneless.

  Reaching down, I push my underwear off, then climb between those boneless legs. Aligning my cock with her pussy, I look into her eyes, hovering above her.

  “You made me come,” Rosana whispers.

  My lips twitch into a small smile. “Keep your arms up and maybe I can do it again,” I say.

  Her eyes widen and she keeps her arms up, her breath coming out in heavy pants again. She licks her lips, watching me for a moment as I ease inside of her wet heat. I watch as her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

  Reaching down, I wrap my hand around the back of her knee, lifting her leg slightly to curve around my hip, falling deeper inside of her. Rolling my hips, I stare deep into her eyes as I fuck my wife for the first time.

  I don’t know if I’m fucking this up or not. But right now, buried deep inside of her, I don’t really care. This is where I belong. This is who I was meant to have as my own. No matter how it came to be, this woman is mine.

  My wife.

  Chapter Thirteen

  SALVATORE

  I wake myself up with a loud snore. Lying on the couch, I have my arm wrapped around my wife’s naked breasts, my bare cock nestled against her bare ass.

  My fingers flex against her breast and I touch my lips to the side of her neck before I gently maneuver myself over her body and off of the couch.

  Reaching for the blanket on the back of the couch, I lay it over her nakedness before I leave and go take a hot shower. I have a fucking hangover that isn’t going to go away on its own.

  I need some steam and hot water, then I’m going to need a bottle of ibuprofen, and a gallon of water before I eat my weight in carbs.

  My eyes are closed, the hot water pounding against my skin when I hear something. Turning my head, I look over to see her. Rosana is naked, the shower door open and in her hand as she steps inside with me.

  Switching the water temperature to warm instead of scalding, I look at her, watching her tits bounce slightly as she makes her way toward me. Lifting my arm, I wrap it around her shoulders and gently pull her against me, feeling those gorgeous tits against my chest.

  “‘Morning, bambola,” I murmur.

  Tilting her head back, she looks up into my eyes, giving me a small smile. “Good morning, Salvi,” she breathes.

  Smiling, I lean down and touch my lips to hers. “I left you sleeping on the couch, I didn’t wake you, did I?” I ask.

  She shakes her head once. “Not really, I just… you weren’t there,” she murmurs.

  Touching my lips to hers again, I can’t help but think about sleeping beside her, inside of her, every night for the rest of my natural born life—fucking heaven on earth. I am far too fucking thrilled about that, but then again, shouldn’t I be? She is my wife.

  “I have to go into the office this afternoon. I have some meetings, what are your plans?” I ask as I take the soap in my hand and begin to lather it.

  Focusing on Rosana, I start to touch every single part of her body, soaping her up and watching the water wash that soap away. I’m cleaning her, but every intention that I have is to get her dirty all over again.

  “I don’t really have anything to do,” she says with a shrug.

  I hum as I finish my shower and she does the same. Turning the water off, I grab her a towel, wrapping her up in it before I lean down and kiss her again. Then I get a towel for myself, drying off before wrapping it around my waist.

  “I understand you don’t want to shop all day, but do you have any hobbies you’d like to start?”

  She shakes her head, reaching for the toothbrush and toothpaste. We brush our teeth together and it is so domestic, comfortable, and normal that I can’t believe I’ve never done this with another person before.

  “I don’t, really. I was in school and then went straight to work and now I’m here,” she says.

  Nodding my head, I clear my throat. “I don’t know, bambola. Maci does all my filing, as nice as it would be to have you at the office, I’m afraid I have nothing for you to do there.”

  She lets out a sigh, then clears her throat before she rinses out her mouth. “I think I’m going to teach myself how to cook, maybe? Or maybe take a class?”

  I envision Valerius being dragged to cooking classes and I can’t help but chuckle. I cannot deny that I wouldn’t like a wife that enjoyed cooking and was good at it. My mother tried to cook but wasn’t very good. Abriana was in college and never had the desire.

  The only home-cooked meals I’ve ever had have been when one of the guys has invited me over for dinner and that has been few and far between.

  “I think that would be amazing, Rosana.”

  “Yeah?” she asks, and she doesn’t even attempt to conceal the excitement in her voice.

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll find some cooking classes, what are your favorite foods?” she asks.

  Arching a brow, I press my lips together. “Do you even have to ask?”

  “Italian?” she guesses.

  Chuckling, I reach for her and touch my index finger to the tip of her nose. “Exactly that.”

  She matches my smile with one of her own and then we separate into our own closets to dress. It wasn’t hard for me to let her come into my room, mainly because I have both his and hers closets and the hers has always been completely empty.

  Once I’m dressed for the day and feeling marginally better, I watch as Rosana emerges from her own closet dressed in a knee-length dress. It isn’t skintight, it wraps around her and has an overall floral print to it. The dress looks spectacular, not that anything could look bad on her, I don’t think it’s possible.

  “I need water and food. Want me to order in?” I ask.

  She smiles at me, closing the distance between us, then lifts her hand and places her palm against my chest. “What are you going to order?”

  I hum, wrapping my hand around her waist and pulling her close to me. Dipping my chin, I touch my lips to hers. “Whatever my bambola desires,” I murmur against her mouth.

  Maybe I can forego the water and ibuprofen for fucking her in this sexy dress? Then a wave of nausea rolls over me and I realize that I’m too old for a fucking hangover, and far too old for fucking with a hangover.

  “Bacon, sausage, eggs, and a whole pound of fried potatoes,” I grumble, releasing her and taking a step backward.

  Her lips curve up into a grin. “Okay,” she agrees. “But maybe just some eggs, toast, and bacon for me?” she calls out.

  Turning away from her, I head downstairs and straight for the kitchen and medicine cabinet. Once I’ve grabbed a bottle of water and four ibuprofen I drink the entire bottle in three gulps, swallowing the pills with it.

  Taking my phone out of my pocket, I put in an order to my favorite breakfast place and close my eyes, inhaling a deep breath, trying to keep from puking everywhere. Fuck me, but I cannot drink like this anymore. I am way too old for this shit.

  My phone rings in my hand while I’m attempting to breathe. Without even looking at the caller ID, I slide my thumb across the screen.

  “Macchio,” I groan.

  “You sound like hell,” Gavino announces.

  “Ermanno got me trashed last night at the club,” I admit.

  He chuckles, then clears his throat. “The rumor true, he divorcing Valentina?”

  “So he claims.”

  Gavino hums, likely not happy with the whole situation. I don’t bring any of it up though. It’s not my business. It’s between Gavino, Benicio, and Ermanno—not me. We talk for a few more moments and he asks me if I’ll come by his house later this afternoon to draw up a new contract.

  I don’t ask him what the contract is, mainly because I turn my head and watch my wife descend from the stairs looking like a fucking supermodel.

  “I’ll be there,” I murmur.<
br />
  “Bring Rosana. Luciana will want to talk to her I’m sure.”

  “I will.”

  Ending the call, I continue to keep my gaze focused on my wife as she closes the distance between us. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and squeeze gently. Touching my lips to hers, I inhale her sweet scent.

  Fuck me, but this is what I have been waiting my whole goddamn life for.

  ROSANA

  “Breakfast will be here soon,” Salvatore murmurs.

  His phone call ends and he shoves the device in his pocket with one hand, the other he wraps around the back of my neck. I love that, the way he grabs me. It’s firm, not painful, but I know that he is there and that there is nowhere for me to go.

  “Okay,” I murmur.

  “Later Gavino wants us to come over, he needs to see me, but Luciana wants to speak with you as well,” he explains.

  My entire body freezes at the thought of Luciana wanting to speak with me. Why? That’s the first thought that rolls through my head. Why on earth would she want or need to speak to me?

  I can’t imagine that I’ve done anything wrong, but I’m new to this life. I don’t really know Luciana that well, I’ve met her a few times in passing, but everything is different now.

  I’m a wife now, which probably means that she maybe has some rules for me? I have no clue. I’m just guessing and it’s killing me that I’m not meeting with her right this minute.

  Honestly, I’m nervous as hell and I’ll be able to think of nothing else until I actually go to meet with her.

  “Bambola,” Salvatore calls.

  Lifting my head, I look into his eyes and blink. He’s smiling down at me, but the way his brows are furrowed, I know that he must be suffering from the alcohol he consumed last night.

  He squints, then dips his chin and touches his lips to mine again, but doesn’t move his head, he leaves his mouth touching my own when he speaks.

  “Everything will be okay, don’t worry, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, mainly because I have nothing else to say, but I don’t even believe myself.

  He chuckles, lifts his head from mine, then releases me before he takes a step backward. “Trust me, Rosana.”

  There is a knock on the door and I frown, wondering how the food could have gotten here so quickly. Flicking my gaze over to Salvatore, he is thinking the same thing as I am. He holds up his hand, then tugs open a kitchen drawer and takes a handgun out.

  Blinking, I clear my throat but don’t say anything. I wonder how many guns he has tucked away in drawers and I make a mental note to ask him. I don’t want them out when the baby gets here, even though logically I know a baby can’t walk or even crawl to get one, but it’s just the thought that has me uneasy.

  “What’re you doing here?” Salvatore’s deep voice rumbles.

  Then I hear a woman’s voice and I blink before my entire body jerks and I head toward the doorway. I expect to see a woman, maybe a lover of his, but what I don’t expect to see is my sister.

  “Pippa?” I ask.

  She shifts to look around Salvatore and smiles. “Hey,” she calls out. Then she turns back to face Salvatore. “I’m here to see my sister. Is that okay with you?” she snaps.

  Blinking, I can’t believe that she would talk to a Made Man this way, especially Salvatore, but she arches a brow as if she’s daring him to say something. He doesn’t. He steps to the side and allows her to walk past him and into the house.

  Flicking my gaze from her, I look behind her to Salvatore, who is frowning at her back. He doesn’t say anything else, just walks down the hall where I know his office is located somewhere.

  “I have been thinking,” Pippa announces.

  “Pippa,” I call. She crosses her arms beneath her chest and watches me for a moment. She doesn’t say anything, instead she presses her lips together as she waits for me to speak. “Why are you here? And why didn’t you call?”

  Only at my questions do her arms fall. “You’re an early riser,” she lamely says. Nodding my head, I lick my lips. “I haven’t been able to talk to you alone since all of this happened. I’m tired of giving you your space and waiting for you to come to me.”

  “There’s the real answer,” I murmur.

  “What do you expect? The last time I talked to you, you were working and living in your apartment in the city. Now you’re pregnant and married to Salvatore. What the hell am I supposed to do? Not ask you any questions?”

  Her voice is starting to rise and I sigh as I motion her to come and sit with me on the sofa. I could tell her everything and I probably should, but I won’t. As much as I love my sister, she doesn’t need to know the mess that I created for myself, only that I‘ve fixed it as best as I could.

  So, instead of telling her everything, I tell her what I want her to know. Luckily, the knock on the door and the delivery of breakfast interrupts us, but I can tell that she feels better about the situation, especially when she sees the way that Salvatore is with me.

  Once we’ve eaten and talked a bit longer, I walk her to the door. Pippa wraps her arms around me, enveloping me in a hug.

  “I just want you to be happy, Rosana. You were supposed to be the one who had complete and totally free will,” she breathes against my ear.

  Shifting backward, I smile as I look into her eyes. “I have it, Pippa, and I am more than happy with my choices.” I am too, at least today.

  Tomorrow may be another story, but that would be the same in any marriage or relationship.

  Tomorrow is never promised, good or bad.

  Right now, I’m only feeling good things when it comes to Salvatore and maybe that’s just because we just had mind-blowing sex for the first time. I don’t know and I’m not going to question it at all. I’m happy, truly happy for the first time since I went to college.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ROSANA

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Luciana asks.

  Shaking my head, I politely decline. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

  I’m not, my throat is super dry and I could use something to drink, but I don’t feel comfortable. I’m nervous, a complete wreck as my leg bounces across from her. She gives me a kind smile and licks her lips.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” she begins.

  Nodding my head, I clear my throat as I wait for her to say whatever it is she wants to say to me. I bite the inside of my cheek as I wait for her to speak. She inhales a deep breath, then lets it out slowly.

  “Salvatore is very important to the famiglia,” she begins again. “He has had a hard few years and I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”

  I blink, unsure that she’s seriously saying this to me, warning me in her own way. Warning me off of my own husband? Seriously? Really? I stare at her, unbelieving that she’s saying exactly what she’s just said.

  “Luciana,” I murmur. “In all honesty and frankness, Salvatore and my love life aren’t really your concern.”

  I’m sure that I’ve stepped, no, not just stepped but smashed on her toes, but she can’t be serious with me right now. He is a grown-ass man, of… oh hell, I don’t know how old my own husband is. That sends a wave of a different kind of panic through my body, but I don’t bother addressing it, at least not with her.

  She tilts her head to the side, her eyes focused on me and nowhere else. Her lips curve up into a smirk and she snorts.

  “Fair enough, Rosana. I have to admit, we don’t know one another well and I’m coming to you as a concerned friend of Sal’s.”

  Licking my lips, I bite the inside of my cheek. I can be a smart-ass with her once, but not twice. So, I try to keep my snappy comebacks to myself. I can’t say that I wasn’t concerned when Pippa married Massimo.

  However, I was just a teenager, so it’s not like I could really say anything about it then, but as time went on, I knew that my concerns were not unfounded as I’m sure Luciana feels hers are the same.

  “I was
n’t in love with him,” I admit.

  “Him?”

  Shrugging my shoulder, my eyes shift to my lap before I bring them back to meet hers. “I feel like I’m constantly telling everyone this same story, but it’s the only one that I have and it’s the truth.”

  Luciana leans back against the sofa and watches me, her eyes intent on what I’m saying. She is gorgeous, put together in a way that is perfection and yet effortless all at the same time. It’s as if she were groomed to be the wife of a Boss and I have no doubt that she was.

  “The father of this baby is Salvatore. The sperm donor is a man that I liked, but never loved. He was cocky and an asshole, unfortunately my weakness and also unfortunately he had planned to kill me after getting to Gavino. Salvatore saved me, saved my baby, and is the nicest man I’ve ever met,” I state.

  Luciana starts to laugh, covering her mouth with her hand, then shakes her head. “I’m sorry, this isn’t funny,” she says between laughing, then her gaze focuses on mine. “Salvatore is nice. I’m just not so sure that you’ve married someone who isn’t a cocky asshole.”

  My lips twitch and I smirk. “I know that I’ve married a cocky asshole, they’re my thing. If he was just nice, and didn’t have that too, I probably wouldn’t be very attracted to him.”

  Thankfully, Luciana doesn’t ask any more questions. She must feel as if I’ve answered them correctly, or maybe I haven’t and she’s letting it go. It doesn’t really matter because the topic of conversation about me and Salvatore is over and we switch to other things.

  A party.

  Something that I’ve come to the conclusion Luciana enjoys throwing. She asks about having a reception at the casino and starts to list off all of the things that she needs to do. I don’t tell her no, even though I really don’t want to have one.

  My marriage isn’t something that really needs to be broadcast. Not just because of the way it all happened, but also because of Miguel. He is very much still out there and no doubt hasn’t changed his views on me living to breathe another day.