Bound By Love

by Reilly, Cora

  I’d seen that Aria had lost weight, but it wasn’t anywhere close to being dangerous yet. I’d asked the Doc. He had assured me that she looked healthy enough, even if he hadn’t examined her in a while because she didn’t want him to.

  “I am a killer,” I said simply.

  “He is,” Matteo said with a shrug, then he added in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Whether psychotic or sociopathic, that’s definitely up for debate.”

  Gianna shook her head, then she whirled around and stomped off.

  Matteo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Your problems with Aria are making my life hell, too. I’m barely getting sex anymore, not even angry sex, and Gianna is the best at angry sex, let me tell you.”

  I didn’t doubt it. That woman harbored the fury of fifty hungry wildcats. She was completely intolerable, so unlike her sister. Aria hated arguments, tried to keep people together with her beautiful smile and kind words.

  Fuck. The slow smile that began with a soft curl at the corners of that perfect mouth, then spread until it broke across her entire face, wide and stunning.

  A fucking hole gaped in my stomach whenever I remembered her smile. She hadn’t smiled in a while.

  Matteo watched me silently with a too-knowing expression. “Perhaps Aria started the mess but you will be the one to end it, Luca.”

  “I won’t apologize.”

  “Fine, but I’m so fucking tired of the tense mood that’s been dragging us down. Not just you and Aria, but Gianna and Liliana, and me and Romero. It’s annoying as fuck, and it’s going to bring us all down. If you are certain that you won’t apologize to Aria for accusing her of cheating and for giving her the cold shoulder, then at least end it for good. You’ve changed so much already in the Famiglia. Make a difference and file for a divorce, then you can return to fucking your way through New York’s it-girls and Aria can find a nice guy to marry.”

  “No!” I growled. “Aria is mine. I’ll kill every fucker who dares to touch her. There won’t be a fucking divorce. Ever. And I don’t want to fuck anyone…”

  “But her,” Matteo finished. He shrugged. “Then your balls are going to turn blue and fall off, because I don’t think Aria will make the first move again.”

  chapter 22

  ARIA

  It was already late in the morning. I hadn’t slept most of the night because I’d felt sick but also too exhausted to get out of bed. Turning around, my eyes found the empty space beside me in bed. My fingers traced the soft fabric. I still fell asleep on my side of the bed and always woke half on Luca’s empty one, as if my body tried to seek him out at night. Eight weeks of lonely nights.

  I put on the loose silk bathrobe that hid my bump and made my way out of the bedroom with bare feet. The house was quiet, but distantly I heard the rumble of deep voices.

  I was surprised to find Luca and Matteo still at the breakfast table. Their plates were covered in crumbs, but they were done eating and caught in an argument from the look of it. Another plate was also covered in crumbs, but Gianna had already made her exit. She and Luca in a room, that didn’t last long. She was probably in the gym. Lily and Romero had left for New York yesterday morning.

  Both men looked up at me. I didn’t say anything, didn’t meet either of their gazes. I was too tired to deal with my feelings. Swallowing my nausea, I reached for the thermos with fruit tea that Marianna always prepared for me, and put it in a cup. I drank a sip of the hot fruit tea, not sitting down. I couldn’t stomach anything else in the morning right now, and I didn’t want to risk sitting down lest I had to run to the bathroom.

  Luca was watching me, his eyes lingering on my cheekbones, then my collarbones. I knew he could see my bones protruding sharply. The bathrobe couldn’t hide every part of me. I’d lost even more weight in the last two weeks. I was starting to get worried about the baby, but I just couldn’t keep food inside. I took another sip of the tea, one hand clutching the edge of the table to steady myself. Mornings were always the worst.

  “You should sit down,” Matteo suggested, and his voice made me look up because it held worry.

  Luca rose from his chair, took the basket with Danishes and held it out toward me. He wasn’t close, never close anymore. “Marianna got your favorite almond biscotti. You need to eat.”

  His gray eyes were softer than I’d seen them in a long time, but I had given up hoping.

  I stared down at the baked goods and felt my stomach turning over. I looked back up. His eyes were desperate. “Aria, please,” he added. He almost never said “please,” especially not in front of others, not even Matteo. A violent wave of sickness gripped me. I shook my head, fighting the nausea.

  “I can’t,” I got out, then turned around and walked slowly back upstairs. Running would have made me throw up. I was glad that Luca didn’t follow me anymore. It made this easier.

  I threw up what little I still had in my stomach, then I brushed my teeth in a daze and washed myself with a cloth. Dizzy like this I couldn’t risk going into the shower.

  I walked back into the bedroom and undressed, then turned around to face the floor-length mirror.

  “What are you doing to me?” I whispered affectionately. Fourteen weeks. I cupped my bump. Naked like this, there was no mistaking that I was pregnant. I turned, facing the mirror sideways. A baby. I stroked my bump lightly, wishing it was Luca’s hands, needing his touch and love so much it hurt.

  The door to the bedroom opened. “Aria.” It was Luca.

  I whirled around, away from the mirror, and rushed toward the clothes stand where I’d left my bathrobe. I ripped it off and made the whole thing topple over. I flinched as it hit the ground before my feet, then quickly clutched the bathrobe to my naked front.

  Luca stood frozen in the room, his eyes moving from the clothes rack to me clutching the bathrobe like it was my salvation.

  Regret flickered on his face, but I didn’t dare hope. “Aria, are you scared of me?” he asked quietly.

  Was I? I regarded Luca. I had been occasionally in the days after he’d thought I’d cheated, but not anymore. He hadn’t hurt me when he’d thought I’d betrayed him in the worst way possible. He would never hurt me.

  “No,” I said with conviction.

  He moved toward me, movements slow and careful as not to startle me as he picked up the rack and straightened it. He looked into my eyes and the emotion in his tugged at my heartstrings. “I don’t care about pain. I can deal with torture. But when I saw you with Dante, and thought that you…” He trailed off, face twisting with agony. “I wanted to kill you, and I wanted to kill myself because I knew I was too weak to do it.”

  What a logic.

  “I’m sorry I made you think you couldn’t trust me. But Luca, I love you. I would never let another man touch me, never betray you like that. Never.”

  “I know,” he said quietly. He still didn’t bridge the remaining distance between us. Perhaps because I was still shielding myself with the bathrobe as if I was scared of what he’d do with my nakedness.

  “You still love me?” he asked, his expression unguarded. He wasn’t Capo in that moment; he was my husband, the man I loved and who loved me in turn.

  “Of course,” I said. I didn’t think I could stop loving him. “And you? Do you love me?”

  He laughed, a dark, raw sound. And he took a step closer, but then stopped himself. “I love you too much. It’s fucking painful. It’s killing me every second I’m not with you, every second of having to pretend that I don’t love you. I hate to see you being sick because of me.”

  “I’m not sick,” I protested.

  He gestured at my collarbones. “You have lost so much weight, Aria. I’m not blind.”

  I shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Forgive me,” he got out. My eyes widened. He had never said those words before. A Capo doesn’t ask for forgiveness, nor grant it. That was one of his father’s lessons he had taken to heart.

  His eyes wer
en’t cold or hard or wary. He let me in. He was back. My Luca was back. I started crying. And he bridged the remaining distance. “Aria?”

  I peered up at him, at the pained look. “Of course, I forgive you, if you forgive me too.”

  “How could I not forgive you?” He cupped my cheeks. “I love you.” He bent down and kissed me softly. I had been drowning and he was my air. He was my life, my love, my everything. His kiss was sweet. No possessiveness, only love. I parted my lips and his tongue tasted me. I’d missed this. I’d missed him.

  I dropped the bathrobe and pressed my hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. His hands trailed down from my cheeks to my shoulders, then down my back and to my ribs. So close to my bump. He pulled away.

  “Your ribs,” he said quietly. “Aria, you need to eat. I won’t let you starve yourself. Let me help you.”

  I smiled up at him. “There’s nothing you can do, Luca.”

  He got it wrong. His face twisted with raw fear. “Are you really sick?”

  “God, no,” I said quickly. I took a step back but he only looked into my face, uncomprehending, and not at the small bump. I grabbed his hand and put his palm on my belly.

  The look on his face was priceless. Utter shock. Disbelief. His eyes shot down to his hand on my bump. It wasn’t big yet and looked even smaller compared to his strong hand, but it was unmistakable.

  “What?” he asked, his voice breaking.

  “I’m pregnant with our baby, Luca.”

  Slowly his eyes rose back to mine. He didn’t say anything.

  Uncertainty filled me. “I’m sorry. I forgot to take the pill when everything was a mess because of Lily’s wedding to Brasci. I know you didn’t want to bring a baby into this world. That’s why I hadn’t told you yet. And that was the reason why Dante let me leave Chicago unscathed. I was pregnant then, and I told him. I’m sorry, Luca.”

  With a low sound in his throat, he knelt down, startling me, his hand still on my belly. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against my stomach, then rested his forehead against my naked skin, breathing harshly.

  I exhaled in a shudder, and of course began crying again.

  He raised his gaze to mine. “Oh, Aria. I will burn down the world for you and our child. I wish I’d apologized sooner. I wish I hadn’t let you go through this alone.” He got up and kissed me lightly. I deepened the kiss and slid my hands under his shirt and over his six-pack. I needed him, needed his closeness more than I’d ever needed anything.

  He returned the kiss then pulled away. “What about the baby?”

  “It’s okay. We can have sex. I talked to the gynecologist.” Then I hesitated. “Or don’t you find me attractive with a bump?”

  Luca laughed. “You are the sexiest and most beautiful woman in the world, Aria, bump or not.” He lifted me into his arms and carried me over to the bed.

  Luca put me down on the mattress and let his eyes take in the sight of me. “Oh fuck. You are so gorgeous, Aria.”

  His fingers brushed across my trimmed curls but then he paused, expression uncertain, as if he was asking for permission. I parted my legs for him. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he slipped his fingers between my folds and stroked me expertly, knowing every touch and flick I enjoyed. My breathing turned ragged as I watched that strong, powerful man, my man, kneeling between my legs, his hands giving me pleasure.

  He heaved a breath, expression darkening with desire as he lowered his head between my legs and my center tightened in anticipation. I gasped when I felt his tongue slide along my flesh. I was already so ready for him. It had been too long since I’d been with him. “Luca, I want you inside me.”

  But he didn’t let himself be deterred and settled completely between my legs, his eyes on my face as his lips closed over my clit and he suckled. I cried out as my orgasm hit me, unexpected and forcefully. It had been too long, too long without his touch.

  Luca groaned against my center, and the vibration made my eyes roll back, but he didn’t stop his gentle assault. I relaxed under his tongue and mouth, let him guide me toward sweet oblivion as a new wave of pleasure raced through me. After my second release, I could take no more. “Luca, please, I need you.”

  Luca trailed kisses up my body, over my hip, my stomach, ribs before he lingered on my breasts, which had grown. He smirked and I let out a small laugh, which brought his attention back to my face and smile. “I missed this.”

  “Sex?” I asked, feeling hot and wet and desperate for more.

  “Your smile,” he murmured before he lowered his head to my breasts and began lavishing them with kisses. His mouth closed around my nipple and I moaned, feeling another release approaching. He nibbled and sucked for a while, his gray eyes on my face as I squirmed and moaned. “Luca, please.”

  He straightened and tugged his shirt over his head, revealing the muscled torso I always wanted to run my hands over, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. His hands moved to his pants, which did nothing to hide the bulge beneath them, and pulled them and his briefs down. He needed this as much as I did. I shivered in anticipation as he climbed back on the bed and up my body as I opened my legs wider for him.

  He supported his weight on his elbows as he lowered his mouth for another kiss. Reaching between us, he lined himself up, his tip pressed up against me. I bucked my hips so he slipped in a couple of inches and we both moaned at the sensation.

  He slowly eased into me until he was almost all the way in, but I could tell he was holding back. I peered into his eyes and gripped his firm backside. “I want all of you inside me.”

  The tendons in his throat flexed, his expression reflecting his turmoil. “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

  “Luca,” I said, tightening my hold on his ass. “You can’t. Trust me, as long as you don’t turn all out-of-control rough with me again.”

  As if he remembered that day, his lips twisted with self-hatred, but I didn’t let him. I reached for the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss, and finally he slid the rest of the way into me and we groaned as one.

  “Fuck,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against mine, chest heaving. “I forgot how tight you are, how fucking perfect you feel.”

  He retreated a few inches, only to slide into me again. I moaned at the sensation of fullness. His strong body over me, his length inside of me, his eyes burning into me with love and need and hunger. I felt like bursting. He thrust slowly, as if he was savoring every moment, and I could feel myself spiraling out of control, but I didn’t want to let go. I wanted this moment to last forever.

  He slammed into me a bit harder, his skin covered in perspiration, his mouth set tight as he fought for control. “Aria, it’s been too long. I’m not sure how long I can last,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I touched his cheek, holding his gaze.

  That he had stayed faithful to me, despite who he was, despite what he’d thought I’d done at first—it meant the world to me. Perhaps it was nothing I should have been thankful for, nothing normal women were grateful for, but I knew what many Made Men did behind their wives’ backs, and they weren’t even Capo. Luca could have a new girl every day if he felt so inclined. He could have more than that.

  “I’m close,” I gasped as he angled his thrusts upwards to reach my G-spot and I clutched his shoulders. My toes curled, my fingers twitched against his skin. So close.

  Luca tensed and then he came with a violent shudder, and took me with him over the edge. I cried out my release, clinging to his shoulders as he slammed into me a few more times before his forehead collapsed on the pillow, his breathing harsh against my throat. He still kept his weight off me, probably worried he’d crush the baby.

  I wanted to relish in this moment forever, in the feel of his warmth and power, listening to his rapid breathing, but my body had a mind of its own, and obviously intended to eject whatever small amount of fruit tea had remained in my stomach. “Luca,” I pressed out, already fighting off the rising
sickness.

  His head snapped up, brows crinkling with worry. He pushed off me at once and slid off the bed. The moment I was free to move, I scrambled off the bed and rushed toward the bathroom. I barely managed to reach the toilet before I threw up my tea. Shivering and feeling faint, I sank down to my knees.

  LUCA

  For a moment I wasn’t sure what to do when Aria fled into the bathroom, but then I moved to follow. I heard her throw up, yet when I entered the room, she knelt on the ground, trembling, her fingers lying limply in her lap and her blonde hair curtaining her face. She looked small and vulnerable, and fierce protectiveness flooded me. My eyes lingered on the small bump as I moved toward her and flushed the toilet. Aria carried our baby. How could she ever consider that I didn’t find her attractive with her bump? She was the most beautiful woman on this planet. The love of my life, and I had almost lost her, given her up. I was a fucking fool.

  I took a washcloth out of the cupboard and held it under warm water for a couple of minutes before I returned to Aria, crouched beside her and held it out to her. She took the cloth with an embarrassed “thanks,” then wiped her pale face. She didn’t have to be embarrassed; I had seen so much worse in my life than a pregnant woman throwing up. I rubbed her back gently, worry filling me as I felt her spine protruding too sharply. “Principessa, we should let the Doc take a look at you.”

  She tilted her head up, perspiration glistening on her forehead. “But he isn’t even a gynecologist, Luca. I doubt he could help.”

  Perhaps she was right. The Doc could patch up knife and bullet wounds faster than anyone I knew, but he usually didn’t deliver babies. “Who’s your gynecologist?”

  “Dr. Max Brightley,” she said, and possessiveness reared its ugly head. She had a male gynecologist? The idea that any man saw Aria like that drove me up the walls with jealousy.