“Yes,” I cry and desperately grip a fistful of his hair, loving the sensation.
“Sweet as fuck,” he mumbles against me with a hot breath.
Then he dips his tongue past my opening. “Sweeter than sin.”
I brace my hips at the feel of his finger dragging between my ass cheeks. The feel of the tip pressing gently at my hole as he tastes my pussy sends a jolt of blinding pleasure through me. Every nerve ending in my pulsating core fires, and I ascend to a height that grips me and doesn’t let me go as I come hard.
I’m weak and shaking, gasping for air through this surprising orgasm, yet my pleasure keeps building, expanding, carrying me to mindless passion while Antonio tongues me everywhere, fingers me, sucks and licks and flicks me, continuing without end.
I don't know how long he keeps up his sweet, sweet torture, but it's perfection. I sigh dreamily at the feel of cool air on my inner thighs. He lifts his mouth off my pussy, and his body weight shifts around in the bed. I can't help but stare as I catch sight of the thick, veined mass of manhood between his legs, pointing right at me. I want to beg him to take me in my pussy this time, but the words won't come.
As though reading my mind, he groans out, “I know. You want me to fuck you, to take all of you. And I will. One day. The day you’re all mine.”
“‘I am,” I whisper. “I’m yours. All of me belongs to all of you. I always have.”
He touches two fingers against a spot near my sternum. “I don’t mean only here, in your heart…” he moves the same fingers up to my temple. “And not just here, in your mind…” then he points them skyward. “But to everyone and everywhere under the sun.”
I'm sure he means my father when he says 'everyone'. My heart is so full, and my mind soaring too high in the stratosphere to put into words how much it all means to me.
Lowering between my legs, he rubs the tip along my wetness a few times. After a long second, it comes to rest at my tight little hole. It’s my movement, my hands at his shoulders and my hips raising off the bed that guides the tip of his cock head inside me. Releasing a breathy whimper, I push down against the burning hot need. At the very same moment, Antonio tweaks my nipple with one hand and wedges the other under my ass. More pleasure stings my walls, ripping all through me when he spreads my cheeks wide and breaches the tight muscle.
Inch by beautifully heated inch, he slides into my ass. I can’t begin to comprehend why, but I fucking love the fullness of his shaft spreading me. His smooth movements become sharper thrusts, drilling deeper, claiming me over and over. I cover my mouth to muffle the scream that threatens to burst from my lips. Each jerk eclipses the pleasure of my first peak. Each stroke drives my quivering core closer to the edge, and without a bit of my own will, a wildly intense explosion fills up all my senses. I come so hard that I can’t breathe, think or control my limbs for a long moment. Giving in to all of it, I smile weakly. And Antonio’s body jerks with the aftershock of my climax as he comes after me, filling me with his hot seed.
Still breathing hard, he lowers onto my stomach and eases out of me, setting his come free. Some of it spills onto his bed. I smile as he rolls us to a dryer spot beside us and tucks my head into the crook of his shoulder. God, if I could freeze this moment, bottle it somehow and revisit it over and over, I would.
I would, because before too long, this is doomed to end.
14
Natalia
I stretch out in my bed, pushing the thin bed sheets off of me.
My body is still charged, amped up on arousal and pleasure since our early morning unplanned make out session in the pantry.
I was down in the kitchen fixing myself a coffee when he pulled me into the enclosed section of shelves at the back of the room that's kept stocked with all manner of food, cured meats, oils, drinks, and alcohol, all from Italy.
I didn't know Antonio had it in him. To corner me and make me come with his mouth and two fingers.
Smiling through a big, unexpected yawn, I cover my mouth and slide out of bed, wondering how much time I have left here. I’m still supposedly in the dark about Father’s plans. Someone should’ve said something by now. They can’t expect me to uproot my life without giving me some time to adjust.
Or time to pack.
Heading over to my closet, I stand in the doorway and look at the three lit walls of closet space. My two favorite pairs of skinny jeans are a must. I regretted every second I went without them on this last trip to Italy, so if anything’s going with me, it’ll be those.
And my mother’s family crest.
Grabbing the folded jeans from their spot on an open, backlit shelf, I carry them over to my yet to be unpacked suitcases and drop them on top of the pile of shopping bags that Cassandra and Tammy Lou ransacked while looking for their shoes the other night. I kneel in front of the bags, contemplating what other few items I’ll take with me if I have to pack really light. My guess is if I’m going way underground, it won’t be smart to draw attention to myself with a ridiculous amount of luggage.
The sound of Father’s knock on my door startles me, and I jump at his uncanny timing.
“Come in,” I say, slightly panicked.
There are two things I can’t let him know.
First, that I’m already aware of what’s going on.
Second, that I’ve been doing dirty, naughty, sinful things with Antonio, his second in command, the man he sees as the son he never.
“Good morning, princess,” he greets me from the doorway but doesn’t step inside. “Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning, Father,” I answer, suddenly nervous. Or maybe that ball of tension in the pit of my stomach is my guilt. I have a lot to be guilty for. Lots to hide from him. “Yes, I did. You’ve been so busy lately. It’s like I haven’t seen you at all since Nonna and I got back.”
“I regret that,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Yes. It’s been a hectic time.”
“I don’t think I had a moment with you since the party,” I add.
"Listen, can you come to the kitchen? I'm in a bit of a rush this morning. We can talk over coffee."
I push off the floor with both hands, moving to stand. “Of course. I’ll be right behind you.”
I pass the foyer just as one of the protection detail opens the front door, and catch a glimpse of Nonna's suitcases. It's the same ones she just traveled home with. Curious, I pull the door open and see the guard is loading them up in the SUV.
Father calls me from the kitchen, so I head back inside for answers.
“Is Nonna going somewhere?” I ask, glad to finally have an opening.
He nods. "Yes. Some things have come up, and she decided to fly back to Italy to see her cousin. That's why I wanted to talk to you." Father rounds the kitchen center island and stops in front of the industrial espresso maker. He pauses to look over at me while he has the Portafilter spring in one hand and a finger on the button to grind the espresso beans. "By the way, where were you last night?"
My heart starts pounding out of control in my chest at the question. It sounds like he knows, but I force myself to calm the hell down. He can’t know. If he did, he’d be in a fit of rage, smoking a cigar like a chimney, pacing around like a crazy person, and pounding into a wall, or into Antonio.
“Last night?” I repeat shakily in a question. “How do you mean?”
“You weren't in your room when I came to look for you.”
“Oh, was it like after midnight?” I scramble for a reasonable explanation but can’t think fast enough. “Because… I might’ve been in my closet... or the bathroom. Why were you looking for me?”
He's so distracted that my scattered answer isn't met with more suspicion. I've never seen him so stuck in his own thoughts. Usually, he notices everything. I should be grateful he's not himself.
“Nonna wanted to let you know she was leaving,” he says after a long moment, watching the espresso fill his little coffee cup. He starts the button to make another cup at the ma
chine’s second coffee station. “The three of us could’ve talked. But no matter. She’s running late for her flight.”
“Sorry I missed her,” I breathe out, truly regretful. I look in the direction of the front doors, wondering if there’s time to say a proper goodbye. “I hope she's okay traveling alone.”
“She won't be alone,” he announces. He sets down one cup of espresso in front of me, and sits at a high back bar chair opposite me with his hot beverage. “One of the guards will be with her.”
“You're right. It would’ve been a good chance to talk. But you can tell me now? What's going on, Father? Why is Nonna going back to Italy?”
He picks up his espresso and has a sip of the hot strong liquid. “There's much to discuss.”
Father takes the next ten minutes or so to explain everything, or at least I believe it is. It's more or less what I overheard from Nonna. There are just a few slight details that I didn’t hear about before.
First, Nonna is traveling back to Italy.
Second, Father needs to have a few business meetings locally and possibly in New York before he leaves, but doesn’t want me to stay back with him.
And that leaves me.
“Am I going to South America alone?”
He shakes his head. “No, you won't be alone. Vinny and another man from the protection detail will be with you. After Nonna has wrapped up her trip, she will join you. I may take a few extra days... just in case I need to travel to Italy as well.” He stretches an arm across the counter and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We won't be apart for very long, princess. And you will be safe. I'll make sure nothing happens to you. That’s my job, to worry about the details. Okay?”
“Yes, Father.”
"I'm so sorry about having to postpone your college start date. Hopefully, it doesn't take very long to resolve this dispute. Perhaps we can resolve this in a few days, in which case you'll only miss orientation week. Try not to worry too much about it."
“It’s hard not to, but I will try. For you. When am I leaving?”
“Later today…” He catches my floored reaction to the fact that I now have hours to be ready, and cups my chin soothingly. “Yes, I know. It’s not a lot of notice. Believe me when I tell you it’s for your own good. Leaving the country is a precautionary measure. To protect everyone involved. That’s why we had to keep it close to our vest. Only Antonio and I know the full plan. Nonna knows what she needs to know to make an appeal to her family. Lorenzo and his son have some of the broader strokes. It’s for the best.”
"All right, Father. I trust you. So, just so I understand it, you're leaving Antonio in charge of your affairs? I'm asking because I should probably have an idea of who to contact if I need anything. Like say, for example, will I be able to reach you while you're dealing with these meetings? I know sometimes you prefer that we stay off the phone when we're apart because there's no way to know who's listening."
“Listen to me, Princess. This is an internal matter, and I’m handling it. Leaving the country is a precaution. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” I answer, but I’m lying. I have no idea what my life will be like after I pack my bags and leave this place for God knows how long.
“I might not be accessible, but you can call Nonna anytime you need to. Feel free to reach out to Antonio too. If you need cash, or a higher limit on your credit cards, anything finance-related, just let Cristiano know. I don’t expect you to have any legal problems, but if you do, reach out to Lorenzo.”
“All right, father,” I agree. “I will. Gosh, I hope everything’s back to normal soon.”
“I do too, Princess.”
“I only had a bit of time with you. If I knew you we would have such a short amount of time, I would’ve shortened my trip to Italy.”
He walks around to my side of the table and pulls me into an embrace while I'm still seated. "Yes, love. We all would've done a lot of things differently this summer if we knew this was coming." He kisses the top of my head and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But like I said, try not to worry about it. I trust that between Nonna and me, we should be able to come to a solution with Mauro."
“Okay. Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask sheepishly, my subtle opening, on the off chance he knows about Antonio and me. “I should use the time to do laundry and start packing.”
“No, that's pretty much it. Actually, wait here. I need to grab something for you.”
I let out a long puff of air as he leaves the room and retreats down the hallway towards his office. I should probably be more worried about his update, but for now, I’m relieved that there’s only one secret hanging between us. The one I’m keeping about Antonio.
After a few minutes, he returns with a small wooden trinket box I've never seen before.
“This is for you,” he says, placing the box on the table in front of me. “From your mother.”
Right away, I notice the emblem etched into the lid. It a monochromatic likeness of my mother’s family crest.
“What?” My gaze snaps up to his face, and I’m brimming over with questions. And so many confusing, overwhelming emotions. “This is from Mother? How did… how could she have… I don’t understand.”
“Your mother made me promise to hold on to this. She wanted you to have it after you turn eighteen.” He lets out a soft chuckle, but I hear the sadness and pain it holds. “She also made me promise not to look inside, so I have no idea what's in it. But trust me, I was curious. Do you know what it's like holding onto something for such a long time, not knowing what it is? Mind you, I did shake it around a little, and figured it was mostly letters and pictures. I really don't know. But she wanted you to have this.” He kisses my forehead. “I wish I had time to be here while you go through it, to talk about any questions you might have about your mother. If you come up with anything, we’ll discuss it when I join you and Nonna in a few days. All right?”
“Yes, Father,” I say shakily, my eyes glued to the box sitting in front of me. “Thank you for this.”
“Of course. I’ll miss you.”
“I will miss you too,” I whisper, and clear my throat as I hear the unfamiliar quiver in my voice that only happens when I’m about to cry.
“I'll be heading out in a few minutes,” he says, and I rest my head on his shoulder one last time before he moves off. “See you soon, Princess. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I watch Father as he walks toward the hallway again, and for a brief moment, I question whether it’s the last time I’ll ever see him.
After he disappears around a corner, I look down at the gift from my mother. I’m engulfed by another wave of emotions. I have to see what’s inside, but at the same time, I’m nervous to open it. It’s a beautifully aged box. I’m sure it’s custom made, with Mother’s family crest and the brass hinges at the back. It’s no larger than the wooden cigar box that my father buys in volume and keeps stocked in his smoking room.
As I sit there, trying to wrap my mind around opening the box, my phone repeatedly buzzes with a slew of text messages. Ignoring them all, I slip the phone in my pocket and return to my room with Mother's gift. It's hard to fathom. This thing in my hands is from her. Taking a breath, I sit at the bench seat of my dressing table, studying it again.
It’s the one place I feel closest to her.
I can do this.
Right here.
Before I pack up and leave everything behind.
15
Natalia
This can’t be real.
A stare at the outside of the polished box that has sealed in my mother’s message to me for over a decade. Trying to unbundle what I feel is impossible. I feel every emotion. Excitement, joy, hesitation, fear, anger, grief, resentment. It’s all there, in a massive wave that crashes over me over and over again, taking me in more than one direction.
I feel so much.
Yet I’m numb from disbelief.
My
mother meant for me to have this after my eighteenth birthday. How exactly am I supposed to feel?
Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I look for something nearby that would open it. I find a metal nail file in my vanity dresser drawer, wondering if there are pictures of her that I haven’t seen too. Or if the letters are handwritten. They must be, but I don’t remember what her handwriting was like. With shaky hands, I slide it over the clear plastic tape around the edges, afraid of what I’ll find inside.
As I lift the unsealed box open, I’m overwhelmed, overtaken with the loss all over again. There’s a thick stack of loose papers, each one neatly folded in half. There are pictures too, and coins. Like information overload, I feel paralyzed, not knowing what to read first, or whether to read them at all.
But as I reach in and pick up the first letter, all that fear leaves me. My mother meant for me to have this. So goddamn it, I’m going to read every single handwritten word.
* * *
To My Beautiful Unborn Baby
The day I learned I was pregnant, I felt so lucky. It was a blessing to know that I would one day have the title of mother. I was so thrilled that on that very day, I decided to write this letter to you, by hand, and to make you a promise.
You see, I never knew my mother, your maternal Nonna. She made the ultimate sacrifice. For me. She held on for as long as she could, but passed away on the day she had me.
I still believe I’m lucky to have had her love, even though I never met her. My father, your Nonno, and her parents, your Bisnonno and Bisnonna, told me every story about her that they could remember. All I had of my mother was her family crest, some of her belongings, and those memories they shared with me. It’s the stories of how she lived her life that I hold closest to my heart.
I will confess that I’m also a little scared today. Terrified, to be truthful. I didn’t meet my mother, but I’m praying that I will not have the same fate, that God will allow me the honor of meeting you in person, and that I’ll have a long, long life with you.
Fall (A Mafia Crime Family Romance) Page 10
