by S. M. Soto
“I love you.”
Those words coming from his lips still have the capacity to squeeze my heart in a vise and render me completely speechless.
For some reason, tears spring to my eyes and I have to fight to tamp down my boiling emotions.
“I love you too.”
He slides into me, and after six weeks without feeling him inside me, I toss my head back. Basking in the slight sting when he seats himself to the hilt. I’m so full of him, I can feel him everywhere. He’s making it hard to breathe.
Grasping onto his shoulders, I dig the pads of my fingers into his skin, relishing in how much I’ve missed him. Missed this feeling. Of him moving inside of me. I didn’t realize until now how much I’ve missed sharing this with him.
“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, sliding in and out of me at a pace that’s driving me insane. I dig my heels into the mattress, moving my hips in time with his.
“More. Please,” I pant. He doesn’t disappoint. He changes the angle, flipping me onto my stomach, driving deeper. I can’t even control the sounds spilling from my throat any longer. They’re feral, animalistic as he plays with my clit. He grips my ass cheek, his rough palm kneading the skin before it sails down, the crack of pain and pleasure drawing a moan out of me. He slides that calloused hand up my spine, applying pressure, shoving me into the sheets and pounds me into the mattress. His hips smack against my body and the sounds of wet flesh slapping echoes around in the most perfect rhythm.
My ragged moans fill the air and just when I think I can’t handle anymore, he sifts his fingers through my hair and tugs my head back, arching my body at an odd angle so he can see my face. All it takes is one pinch to my nipples and to my clit to send me falling over the edge again.
I cry out, riding each wave of my orgasm as it rips through my body, obliterating me.
Creed’s grip on my body tightens and then I feel it, the warmth coating my womb, his harsh growl as he comes inside of me. We both drop onto the bed, trying to catch our breath. I slide my hands along his sweat-slicked skin, trying to pull him closer to me. He gets what I’m trying to do, rolling his body into mine and wrapping those thick arms around me. I snuggle into his warmth, my eyes fluttering closed and freeze when the sound of Angel’s cries erupt from the monitor. I jolt upright, ready to fly off the bed to grab him but Creed grasps ahold of my arm, holding me back.
“I’ll get him.”
I watch him dress in boxers and sweats and walk out of our bedroom. I do the same, slipping back into my discarded clothes. I listen to the monitor and fight back an idiotic smile when I hear him whispering to our little boy, trying to get him to stop crying.
“Are you hungry, Tesoro, or just need your diaper changed? Let’s check.”
I hear movement and crackling, Angel making his sweet gurgling noises. I hear the sound of the diaper tabs being pulled. The wiper warmer being opened and closed.
“C’mon, buddy. Let’s go see your momma.”
Through the monitor, I hear his footsteps trailing away into our bedroom. I shift on the bed and smile as he walks through the door with him.
“He’s definitely hungry.”
I laugh at Angel and the way he’s trying to shove his little fist in his mouth. His face is red, and he keeps making those gurgle noises he’s been making more frequently. Usually when he’s hungry and he’s about to break into a full-on cry.
I push back against the headboard and Creed lays him in my arms. His little mouth seeks out my breast immediately and latches on. I stare down at him and watch in pure fascination, this little piece of us. Every day I look at him and wonder how it’s possible to love him more than I did the day before. He’s the spitting image of Creed. And with each day that passes, he looks more and more like a Sabella. His skin is tanner than mine, just like his father’s and his eyes seem to get brighter and brighter, like his father’s too.
Creed rubs the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone almost reverently and it pulls my gaze away from our son. He’s looking at me with such warmth in his eyes. The way he’s stroking my cheek is so gentle and loving, I don’t want him to ever stop. His gaze drops down to our boy, and like he’s drawn to us, he climbs on the bed, settling beside me, never once taking his eyes off Angel. He reaches out brushing his full head of dark hair back softly, careful of his soft spot on top. He looks down at Angel with so much love in his eyes, it has warmth spilling into my chest, practically bursting with love.
I never thought I’d get to see the day Creed was a father and now that I’ve seen it? It’s incredible. He’s the best dad in the entire world.
“Have you thought about having more?”
I smile down at Angel. Even though the birth was a scary experience, I have found myself thinking about it a time or two. And the truth is, I do want more babies, if it’s safe to do so, I want a whole busload with this man.
“Have you?” I counter.
He nods. “I want another one.”
I swing my gaze to his, my brows raised. “Really? I thought after what happened you’d be against it.”
His features tighten and he sighs. “I am, but I’m not. If I can avoid putting you in danger, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But with the risk of AFE happening again being ten percent it’s…tempting. I want more of this, but I’d never put you in danger to get it.”
My chest squeezes. I reach my hand out, cupping his scruff riddled cheek. “Me too.”
He rubs the back of his finger along Angel’s tiny face, smoothing along his chubby little cheek as he eats ravenously.
“I want a girl too.”
That surprises me more than his last admission. “You do?”
His gaze shifts to mine and there’s so much warmth there, my cheeks heat. “Of course I do. I want to fill you up with my babies.”
I roll my eyes, trying not to laugh. “That’s not exactly romantic.”
He chuckles with an unapologetic look on his face. The sound so deep, I feel it settle in my bones. “I never said I was a romantic.”
This time I do laugh but try not to move too much and disturb Angel. “This is true.”
I caress his cheek, running the pads of my fingers along his sharp jaw and the day-old scruff. “Let’s enjoy him. Give him all our love before we start popping out the Sabella school bus filled with children.”
“Deal.” He chuckles, leaning in, pressing a kiss to Angel’s little head before he slides off the bed.
“I’m going to shower then I have some work to do. I’ll check on you guys when I’m done. Do you need anything?”
“Food.”
His lips twist with amusement. “I’ll tell Magdalene.”
I watch him pad off into the en suite bathroom with a happy sigh. When I look down, my sweet boy still has his eyes wide open, staring up at me.
“Hi, handsome,” I whisper. “You getting full or still hungry?”
When he keeps sucking, I take that as my answer. Such a demanding little thing already. Just like his father.
Since Creed had to leave to get some work done—his usual secretive Cosa Nostra business—I decided to take a walk with Angel.
Using the baby carrier, I strap him to my chest as I walk through the garden with Angel nestled comfortably against my body. It’s beautiful today. The wind, which has taken some getting used to here in Chicago versus California, isn’t too cold and it hasn’t gotten uncomfortably hot yet. The weather is in the perfect in between stage.
I take my time walking through the garden, showing my sweet little Angel all the flowers. Dr. Chang said it was good to bring him outdoors, introduce him to the environment so his body can adjust instead of keeping him locked inside all day.
His long lashes fan his cheeks when his eyes flutter closed. He can never manage to stay awake for long. I run the back of my finger up and down his cheek, loving the feel of his delicate skin against mine. I take a seat by the fountain with the cherubic angel and enjoy the smell of the flowers and the steady sound
of the water splashing. I rock back and forth with Angel.
The sound of movement near the brick wall has my eyes springing open. They widen when they land on Matteo. I hadn’t even realized he was out here.
“How long have you been there?”
“A while.”
He doesn’t look at me. Instead, his gaze is riveted on the sweet baby boy in my arms.
“Want to see him?” I ask.
Matteo’s eyes drift up to mine, and there’s so much emotion swirling there, it makes my heart twinge. With my free hand, I pat the concrete slab of space next to me and for a minute I think he’s going to turn around and ignore me, but much to my surprise, he doesn’t. He sits next to me, his eyes riveted on Angel. There’s so much to be read in his gaze. But the sadness and the warmth there pulls at my heartstrings. This is a man who lost the love of his life. His wife and unborn child, all because of his brother. I can’t even imagine the pain he lives with every day.
On top of that, he has a son who loathes his existence. I won’t pretend like I understand Matteo’s decisions. I don’t agree with anything he’s done. The way he’s hurt Creed, it makes me want to hurt him the same way. I hate that the scars that he wears on his body are Matteo and Giovanni’s doing. But there’s also a part of me that feels for him. He’s human. We all make mistakes. We all feel even when we don’t want to. And as I look at Matteo, I can tell he feels. He feels so much that sometimes, he doesn’t want to.
Matteo doesn’t come around much. I’m sure those are Creed’s orders. I know he thinks his dad will drag our son into this life, and even though I’m scared shitless of that happening, I also recognize a grandfather that wants to see his grandson. The only other time he’s seen him is when he was born, and Creed just about chased him away. Now, I can’t help but wonder, how often does he try to get a glimpse of Angel, just to see him?
“Want to hold him?” My voice is quiet, maybe even a little unsure. I never know how to communicate with this intimidating man.
Matteo darts his gaze to mine. His face is lined with disbelief.
Creed would be so angry if he knew. But I hate seeing the sadness in Matteo’s eyes. If holding his grandson will take that away, I’ll gladly do it.
“I shouldn’t.”
He says one thing, but his eyes say another. They stare down at Angel with a longing I’ve never witnessed from him before.
“Here.” I carefully unstrap Angel, moving slowly as to not wake him. Matteo’s eyes widen. “Put your arms out and don’t forget to cradle his head,” I instruct as I place Angel in his arms.
He shoots me a look.
“Child, I was a father once before, you know.” He rests my son against his body, cradling him in his arms and stares down at him with an expression I’ve never seen on his face before. It’s soft.
Matteo Sabella doesn’t do soft.
“You still are.”
“What?” He tears his gaze away from Angel.
“You said you were a father once before. And I said you still are. You never stop being a father, Matteo.”
He watches me for a beat before looking back down at my son. “He looks exactly like Diavolo did when he was a baby.”
I smile. “What was he like?”
“Diavolo?”
I refrain from telling him to stop calling him that. It is his name after all. I’ve gotten so used to using the name ‘Creed’, calling him Diavolo just sounds cruel.
“Yeah, what was he like when he was a baby?”
“He was…fuck, that was such a long time ago,” Matteo sighs, looking down at Angel. He cocks his head to the side, and I know he’s no longer seeing my son, but now, he’s seeing Creed when he was a baby.
“He was a fighter. Even when he was a baby. Valentina gave birth early and he was premature. The doctors had him hooked to all these tubes because he was so tiny. Smallest fucking thing in the world. Valentina was beside herself. So worried about him. I remember the first time I held him, I had his little body against my chest, and he curled his tiny fingers around mine. He had such a strong tight grip for a baby whose odds were stacked against him.”
Tears glimmer in my eyes and as discretely as I can, I wipe the moisture away, not wanting him to stop. I stare down at Angel, unable to comprehend the thought of him attached to any machines. The danger while I gave birth to him was all too real, I can only imagine how Creed felt—not wanting to lose either of us.
“What was Valentina like?”
I don’t expect him to answer. Hell, a part of me thinks he’s going to go off on me for bringing up his deceased wife, but after some time, he finally answers.
“She was…incredible. Beautiful, strong, much too soft for this world. She was way too good for me, but that didn’t stop me from keeping her.” A smile spreads across my face as I picture her with Matteo. “She had a heart made of gold. She was so beautiful yet so naïve to all the evil in the world. She was a lot like you. Which is a scary thought,” he chuckles darkly. “The fact that my son found someone so similar to the woman he loved dearly hasn’t escaped my notice.”
“He told me something. About Valentina. Is it true?”
“Depends.”
“He said she was sold to you.”
Matteo blows out a sigh and nods. I can tell he isn’t proud of it. “It was different than what you experienced. Valentina’s family sold her for profit and gain. The Russo’s were the lowest of the low—scum, really—and in order to dig themselves out of their hole, they used Valentina as their bargaining chip.” He sighs, looking far off in thought. “For as long as I can remember, my brother and I were pitted against each other. It was always a competition between us since we were only a year apart. Because he was the oldest, I thought for sure he’d be the one to take over after our father. It just made sense. But Gabriele wasn’t smart. He was street smart, but when it came to business and women, he had a habit of causing problems. My father didn’t like it. He started questioning his ability to run things. At the time, there was an issue with…business. My father made a deal with Valentina’s father. They’d come together for business and the sake of the famiglia and our families would be bound forever. It was all a play for power. Not unheard of in our world.
“The first time I saw Valentina. I wanted her to be mine. She was gorgeous. And funny and so…pure. I hated the idea of my brother having her. I knew what he would do to her. To that light. I’d seen it countless times before. I’d go out of my way to spend time with her. Without either of our families knowing. I hated watching her with him. Hearing them together when it should’ve been me. I saw the way she would look at me. She’d cry sometimes, telling me she wished things were different. It was a dangerous game. One that hurt both of us countless of times. But when she fell in love with me, it was worth it.”
“Kinda messed up, making her fall in love with you.”
He smiles sadly. “I didn’t make her fall in love with me, principessa. I was trying to get her to love me back. I loved Valentina from the first time I ever laid eyes on her.”
My heart squeezes painfully. He really did love her.
“I remember when she found out her father had signed a marriage contract with mine. She was so angry. Didn’t talk to me for weeks. I think she thought her father had a stroke of luck and made out, being invited to all the Sabella events. But really, she was just being primed. And she didn’t even know it.
“After the contract was signed, Gabriele wasted no time preparing to have her. To destroy her. I think my father was already having second thoughts. It wasn’t until about a year or two into the arrangement, he started to see reason. Gabriele was being reckless, purposely causing problems with the authorities. That was when he decided he wasn’t fit to rule, so he chose me. The burden of his empire landed on my shoulders. It was rocky at first. Our marriage. She was still angry with me. Confused about the future. It took a long time for us to find common ground, each of us blaming each other for the past. And even when we did get
along, she always had something smart to say.”
I snort. Loving the sound of Valentina already.
“She was an incredible mother. One of my biggest regrets is not letting her see how incredible of a father I could’ve been.”
I don’t even bother wiping the tears anymore. I just let them fall.
I sit with Matteo a while longer and let him continue to hold Angel. After what he just shared with me…I could tell he needed it. That warm fuzzy feeling my sweet Angel gives everyone when they hold him. We make small talk, but nothing as major as what he told me about Valentina today. It was more than I asked for and definitely more than I expected him to share with me. But I feel like I understand just a little bit better now.
Once Angel starts getting fussy in his arms, I take him back, trying to soothe him. He’s due for a diaper change and another feeding soon.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he says, pushing to his feet. He strides toward the open French doors leading back inside and before he crosses the threshold and disappears, I call out to him.
“If you aren’t doing anything, we’ll be out here again tomorrow. You know, just in case you happen to be out here, too.”
Something passes over Matteo’s eyes. I can’t pin down what emotion it is. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes before he turns back around and heads inside.
“C’mon, buddy,” I whisper against Angel’s head, strapping him back up. “Let’s get you fed.”
THERE’S A SOFT RAP ON my bedroom door and when it pushes open, I smile. Alexis tiptoes into the room, trying to be quiet in case Angel’s still sleeping.
“Is my baby sleeping?” Alexis asks, already craning her neck to see if his eyes are closed.
I smirk at her. “I don’t recall them cutting your stomach open to retrieve him.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up. You’re my best friend. What’s mine is yours.”
