by S. M. Soto
On the opposite side of the botanical garden, where the reception will be held, is a transportable stage of sorts with a glass floor that’s raised above the grass, overlooking the flowers and the manmade stream. High-peaks and columns are built into the glass, creating an open dome where crystal chandeliers hang. On each of the tables, the centerpieces are ornate and immaculate with an assortment of blush flowers in a tall glass vase surrounded by candles and roses. The whole set up is gorgeous, and once again it’s better than I could’ve ever imagined.
When everyone is seated in the garden, waiting for it to begin, I finish feeding Angel in private, before I face everyone again for our vows. Of course, this was my idea, I wanted to exchange our vows not just inside of the church, but outdoors, and Creed being who he is made sure I got my wish.
Just as I’m stepping out of the glass building with Angel, my heart drops, and the pit in my stomach grows when I see familiar long black hair and bright red lips. I tighten my arms around Angel, my eyes narrowing on Elisea.
“Well,” she breathes, her nose curled in disgust. “Don’t you look…quaint.”
I try to inhale a deep, calming breath. The last thing I want to do is give in to her antics and digs at me, especially on my wedding day.
“You need to leave.” I’m proud of myself for sounding strong and confident as I say it. Anger courses through my veins. Elisea smiles. It’s vicious.
“And what are you going to—” An iron grip clamps around her arm and tightens, dragging her away from me. “Get off me! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
If possible, Wulferic tightens his grip around her arm. His hazel gaze meets mine. “You all right?”
I swallow, dropping my gaze to Elisea before I nod.
Just as quick as he appeared, Wulferic disappears with Elisea and a few of the other brawny security guards dressed in suits. My hands tremble around Angel, and I press a kiss to his head. I close my eyes, inhaling his scent, refusing to let that woman ruin my day.
Once we’re ready to begin, Alexis and Garrett take Angel for me, sitting with him in the front row of chairs, surrounded by the guys. Creed assured me after the mass at St. Mary’s that security was heavy—watching everyone closely. And he wasn’t lying. I can see them from here. Men strategically placed everywhere, looking for any potential threats.
Shedding the veil but keeping the tiara, I line up, listening to Kristine’s directions, prepping to walk down that petaled aisle alone, to profess my love to a man that makes my heart beat faster and slower at the same time.
What I felt for Creed…it was love and chaos in its purest form.
I WATCH WITH RAPT ATTENTION as Sophia walks toward me and for the second time today, I can’t help feeling like the luckiest bastard on earth. I don’t deserve her and all her purity, this much I know, but it doesn’t stop her from being mine.
I have Monte and Clarence in my ear, giving me a play by play of what’s happening around us. A safety precaution. Just one of many.
It may be our wedding day, but I refuse to get so lost in her, I put my wife in danger. I’m keeping my eyes and ears open at all times, refusing to let anything happen to my son and Sophia.
Seeing as Elisea found her way past security, the only thing stopping me from ripping someone a new one is my wife, walking toward me.
Unlike at St. Mary’s, Sophia walks down the aisle by herself, Garrett sitting with Angel in his arms in the first row of chairs amongst the rest of the guys. Every eye out here is on my beautiful girl who truly does look like an angel today. Only someone as pure-hearted as her could create an angel like our son.
Her dress is the same as earlier, though the only difference is she’s no longer wearing the heavy veil that belonged to my mother. The tiara sits perfectly at the top of her head, making her look like a goddess. It sparkles and gleams against the sun that is starting to set. The tiara in question was a gift from Matteo to my mother on her wedding day. It was one of her prized possessions, forever kept in safekeeping in that glass box. It felt only right sharing it with Sophia today. I was surprised Matteo felt the same way.
Tears trail down Sophia’s face in torrents during the exchange of vows. Needing to feel her skin beneath mine, I used wiping her tears as my excuse to touch her. I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings, not even to Sophia, she still doesn’t understand the magnitude of what I feel for her.
In short—she was my goddess. One that I get to keep for the rest of my life.
When the vows were exchanged, I took her lips in a kiss that I hoped conveyed just how I felt about her. Just how far I was willing to go for her. The lengths I would go to protect her and our son. I hoped she understood I was willing to scale the earth, burn the entire world down just to get to her.
And if anyone ever tried to take her from me again? I’d kill them.
I kissed Sophia in front of the famiglia, in front of friends and family, making certain every person knew she was mine, until the very end of time.
I keep a firm eye on everyone during dinner and the reception, not willing to let anyone slip through the cracks. Waiters walk around with trays of hors d’oeuvres while everyone mills about in groups, men from the famiglia stay in their own circles, the women from the families in the Cosa Nostra gossip at tables amongst each other. To the outside eye, it all looks like a normal family affair.
I make eye contact with Wulferic and his men more than once. Just a simple head nod as a check-in, to make sure everything is running smoothly. Wulferic’s men are all seated at random tables, listening in on conversations and keeping their eyes peeled for anyone that might think of trying anything.
What does have my brows raised is seeing the rookie cop, Celestine Bentley, dressed up in heels, seated at Wulferic’s table. That’s not the comical part, it’s watching a criminal biker with a man bun, converse and flirt with one of Chicago PD’s own. Their heads are bent together and color me surprised as shit when she tosses her head back and laughs at something he says. The way Wulferic watches her as she laughs, that expression on his face, it’s one I know all too well, and it has a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.
Wulferic is in for the trial of his life if he thinks making it work with a cop is a possibility.
Sophia asked if she could invite Celeste to the wedding, and my initial answer was going to be no, because why the fuck would I want her here, she could still be gathering information for her superiors at the station? But by the look in Sophia’s eyes, I could tell she wanted her to attend, for whatever reason she wanted to befriend the young woman. So I gave in.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t have an extra set of eyes on her.
And then there was Garrett, lovesick over Wendy, who was also another one of Sophia’s ideas. She said she wanted her brother to have a chance to spend time with her, and I know she meant well, but I can guarantee from the hard placement of Cova’s jaw and the tenseness in his shoulders, he’s not exactly happy she’s here. And it’s all because he wants what he can’t have. He wants Wendy, but for reasons I understand better than his sister, he won’t let himself give into her. I haven’t missed the way he’s been watching her. Or the way she’s been watching him. As I scan each table, each group, it’s like watching a fucking soap opera—every table, every person has their own story.
I feel a heavy hand settle on my shoulder and when I smell the distinct scent of cigar smoke—Toscano originale—I already know who it is. When I turn around, I’m not surprised to find my grandfather. The great Salvatore Sabella. Chicago’s original godfather—the man Matteo has worked his whole life to appease.
Salvatore no longer lives here in the states. A while ago, he chose to leave Chicago in Matteo’s hands to live in Italy, where he grew up.
He regards me with approval as he puffs on his cigar. “Done good for yourself, Diavolo. Beautiful wife. Beautiful family. Now all that’s left is taking over when it’s time and training the heir to be just as ruthless.” He pats my back, s
mirking around his cigar. Of course that would be his only thought. All he fucking cares about. He is Matteo’s father after all.
My body tenses, but I try to play it off, taking a sip from the tumbler filled with amber liquid. I seek out Sophia in the crowd, watching her with Angel in her lap, a beautiful smile on her face as she talks to a few of the wives from the famiglia. They’ve all been gushing over her, but when her back is turned, they’ve already started the wife shaming—she isn’t Italian enough, she doesn’t speak the language, she isn’t fit to be queen. They’re lucky I wasn’t around to hear it.
I watch them both. Warmth building in my chest, and a deep pit growing in my stomach. Angel sleeps peacefully in her arms, so innocent to all the corrupt and evil this family will try to suck him into. I refuse to let that happen. I refuse to let him live the same life as I did. I can’t put him through what I went through. He’ll be strong because of his father and mother, not because we hurt him or tortured him to make him that way.
“Grazie, sir.”
He nods toward the Alfonsi family, seeing an old associate and pats me on the back before leaving me. I give myself a little longer to control the anger coursing through my veins before heading toward Sophia and Angel. She glances up when she sees me coming, a serene smile spreading across her plump lips. I lean into her, planting a kiss on her lips, lingering there.
“Hi, husband,” she whispers, with an amused glint in her eyes. I smirk down at her then look down at Angel who is still sound asleep in her arms. I sit down next to my wife and my son, basking in them for as long as I can.
After cutting the cake and sharing a dance, we say our goodbyes to the families and everyone who attended. They shower us with hugs and congratulations. We leave the reception with all the guys in tow, prepping to depart for the honeymoon. Magdalene and the servants were handling seeing all the gifts back to the estate for when we returned.
We’re on our way to the jet, with Magdalene, Alexis and the rest of the guys in tow. After much discussion and consideration, Sophia and I decided having a honeymoon was only going to be possible if Angel could come with us. There was no way I felt comfortable enough to leave him anywhere behind and neither did she.
I made arrangements for everyone at our private island in the Maldives, making room to accommodate the guys for security and Alexis and Magdalene. Sophia and I would have our own private villa, everyone else staying in their own connected villas. The small bridge that ran over the sand and ocean water was the only thing that separated us.
A few years back, one of Matteo’s business associates knew someone who was selling a slice of land. What was supposed to be an investment, used as a private get-away spot for the rich and elite became Matteo’s slice of property when he bought it off his associate.
Once everyone is on the jet and we’re fueled to go, Sophia and Angel settle back into the bedroom for the twenty-hour flight. Everyone settles into their own corners, tired from the entire day and I use the time to work.
I still had a Sinner Man to catch.
I watch intently as Sophia finishes feeding Angel. We’ve been here a little over a day now, and everyone still seems jet lagged, opting to rest and stay inside. Sophia and Angel have pretty much spent most of the day sleeping.
“Is he almost finished?” I ask, grazing my fingers along her soft, delicate skin. Brushing the hair off her neck, I kiss my way up, enjoying the way she shivers and she gasps in arousal. She nods, looking up at me through her lashes, her plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “How would you feel about handing him off to Magdalene or Alexis for a little while?”
She swallows. “What for?”
“I think you know.”
She raises a brow. “And what if I don’t know?”
A chuckle vibrates in my chest. Always testing me.
Leaning into her, I brush my lips against her ear. “Because I want to fuck my wife.”
Her lips part and her skin flushes. Her tiny little hairs stand at attention, the goosebumps covering her body. “Okay,” she whispers.
I watch her go, traipsing out of the room with a sexy little sway to her hips, my cock growing harder and harder every second. By the time she gets back into the room, her flush has deepened, spreading across the rest of her skin. Her chest rises and falls sharply to accommodate her heavy breathing.
The door clicks shut behind her and she leans back against it. She looks absolutely fucking delectable. My hands just itching to trail across her skin.
“I’ve heard married sex is different. A whole new world,” I start off, prowling toward her. Sophia’s eyes spark with heat.
“How so?” her voice shakes as she asks. It makes me smile. I rub my finger over my lips in a contemplative motion. Her eyes following the movement, hooding with lust.
“I don’t know,” I eventually say, when I’m towering over her. Dipping my head down near her ear, I let my lips graze the soft shell. “But I guess we’ll find out.”
She whimpers in anticipation and I take that as my cue to dive down into her neck, sucking her skin into my mouth, swirling my tongue along erogenous zones. She squirms, her hands flying to my back, digging into the material of my shirt.
Gliding my hands down the globes of her ass, I squeeze, lifting Sophia into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist on instinct. She buries her hand in my hair and tears my lips away from her neck to her lips. I drop her onto the bed, and she jolts up, trying to peel my shirt and my pants off with frantic movements. I rest my hands on hers, forcing her to pause so I can take over.
Sophia takes that as her cue to undress herself instead. Her huge tits spring free, heavy and so fucking beautiful. My mouth waters, just dying to wrap around her nipples. She tugs her panties down her legs and like a starved animal, I growl, dropping to my knees and eating her.
She’s so wet already, I can taste her juices overflowing on my tongue. Her hips twist to meet my tongue and ride my face. I spear her pussy, spreading her lips wide and fucking her channel. Her pussy contracts around me. Using one hand to spread her open, I use the other to swirl through her folds. She’s fucking soaked. The sound echoes around us, the squelching of juices like fucking music to my ears.
I dip my finger into her pussy, enjoying the way she raises her hips off the bed, trying to suck me in deeper. I swirl my fingers through her sopping wetness and spread it all the way down. Down, down, until I feel her tense on the bed.
“Creed,” she breathes out in surprise, voice sounding gritty. Sexy as shit. It sends a thrill down my spine and a tremor through my chest. I rub my soaked finger against the puckered flesh, glancing up at her. Her eyes are hooded with lust and her mouth is dropped open in a little “o.” I keep pumping my finger in and out of her pussy, twisting my hand so I can use my thumb to rub against her clit at the same time. I circle her delicate little hole and feel the flesh pucker beneath me.
“Is this okay?” I ask, already knowing the truth. If she didn’t like it, her pussy wouldn’t keep sucking my finger in deeper, growing wetter, and her ass sure as fuck wouldn’t keep puckering.
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and nods. If possible, her eyes grow darker with lust and need. Liquefying when I keep rubbing her there.
“You’re my wife, Sophia, and that means I want to own every inch of you. Touch, lick, and fuck every single part of you and that includes here.” To drive my point home, I apply a little more pressure. She pants in excitement, and I smile. It’s salacious.
I watch her face as I push my finger inside her, past that barrier. The sound that escapes her chest is guttural. It goes straight to my balls. I’ve never heard anything like it from her.
Digging in the drawer right beside me, I find exactly what I need, what I asked the maids to set there for me. I may not have been able to fuck Sophia the way I wanted to while she was pregnant, but I was making up for it now. Every time I fucked her, I wanted her to feel me for days after.
“Get on your knees,” I whisper, an
d her lips part just before she does what I say. Sophia settles on all fours, her bare ass angled up in the air. Her pussy glistens with her arousal. She’s fucking soaked.
Taking my cock, I press the head against her entrance, just barely dipping in, before I pull out and bump the tip against her clit. She gasps, her hips twisting in the air, seeking more friction. When she least expects it, I slam into her pussy and she yelps. Her hands glide out in front of her, gripping the sheets. I watch transfixed as her ass bounces each time I slam into her. Reaching around, , I toy with one of her nipples. Rolling the hardened pink peak between my fingers.
“Oh, God,” she moans. Pausing my thrusts, I flip open the cap and watch as her body stills at the noise, she glances at me over her shoulder, those plump lips parted and those jade eyes wild with lust. They widen once she takes in what I’m doing. Grabbing the small plug, I squirt it with lube, and I slide my cock back into her, curling a hand in her long hair and fucking her. She throws her ass back into my thrusts, meeting each of them. Moans spilling from her throat each time I bury myself to the hilt.
“You should…oh, god…you need to get a condom,” she pants out in between each thrust. Her pussy swallows my cock, squeezing my shaft each time I slide out and slide back in. pleasure courses up and down my spine.
I lean over her, poising my lips near her ear while reaching around to squeeze her breast, toying with her nipple. From there I slide it down, stroking her clit.
“I’m not pulling out, Sophia. Ever. I’m coming inside this pussy,” I grit in between thrusts, curling my teeth over my lips in pleasure as her muscles contract around me. “You’re my wife. You’re going to feel me inside you, feel me drip out of you. Feel me everywhere.”
She moans like a woman possessed and I press the plug against her muscles. “Relax baby,” I coach, pressing it against her tight ring. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Her hole puckers and I push it all the way inside, reveling in her ragged gasp.
