Breathless & Bloodstained (The Chicago War #4)

by Bethany-Kris

  Nothing could be better than that.

  Right?

  Wrong.

  The best thing was hearing his lover tell him that two little pink lines had shown up on a pregnancy test that morning. No one else knew. They would keep it to themselves for a little while.

  Best wedding gift ever.

  “Tommas?” Abriella asked.

  He still hadn’t moved, or turned to start them back down the aisle. Tommas was far too caught up in taking the beauty of Abriella in, and the life they were finally beginning to have together.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered.

  Tommas glanced up at the large cross hanging above the opened doors.

  God knew …

  God knew Tommas had been ready for this day forever.

  Without a word, Tommas interweaved their fingers, moved to Abriella’s side, and faced the waiting church. No, his girl didn’t have to walk alone.

  He had her.

  He would always have her.

  Dante Marcello stepped forward, breaking from the line of the three men who were standing side by side. “Tommas, we weren’t sure if the Outfit would be joining the meeting this year.”

  “Neither were we,” Tommas said, a hint of a joke in his tone.

  Dante passed a quiet Damian a look behind Tommas. “I’m happy to see the fighting come to an end, and of course, see who came out on top.”

  “So to speak,” said one of the two men from behind Dante.

  Tommas recognized the man instantly.

  “Lucian,” Tommas greeted.

  “Rossi,” Lucian said with forced politeness.

  Dante didn’t act like his brother had said a thing. The other Marcello brother, the youngest, stayed quiet beside Lucian. Giovanni did give a nod to Theo who was standing with Damian. From what Tommas understood, the two men had an old friendship.

  “Lucian,” Tommas started, “I hear that apologies are in order.”

  Lucian cleared his throat, seemingly surprised. “They have been in order for years, yet we’ve not received a single one.”

  “Let me correct that quickly. I apologize for the unfortunate events that took the lives of your crew by men in the Outfit. It’s unacceptable and it never should have happened. I know it’s been quite a while, but if there’s anything that would help smooth this resentment away—”

  “Actually, there is,” Lucian interrupted.

  “Try me.”

  “There’s a trust fund set up for the two men’s children. I made it myself. Those kids are without fathers now because someone’s hotheaded men couldn’t work with my men. Those children didn’t ask for that, and I felt a need to help them in whatever way I could.”

  “I’ll gladly contribute,” Tommas said.

  Lucian nodded. “Apology accepted.”

  A sense of relief flooded Tommas. It was a small thing, to be sure, but the bitterness between the Marcello family and the Chicago Outfit had been standing between their mutual businesses for years. It was just one thing that Tommas wanted to correct in his new position as boss.

  “Clarify who you’ve brought and why,” Dante said.

  “Damian is my underboss, and Theo is the front boss as of last month. It was a bit of a … situation, we’ll say … to get him to agree to the spot.”

  “I liked being a Capo,” Theo muttered.

  Dante chuckled. “You’ll make a good front boss, Theo. Duty and responsibility look well on you.”

  “Thank you for seeing me before the meeting,” Tommas said.

  “You’ll have no problems inside with the Commission,” Dante assured. “We’re missing a family this year, but it won’t be an issue when they rejoin.”

  “Oh, which one?”

  “The Guzzis.”

  Canada.

  Tommas’ thoughts instantly went to his surviving sister who lived in Toronto.

  “Is there something happening up there?” Tommas asked.

  “We don’t really know,” Giovanni said. “It was just explained that they had no need to be included this year, and the families should proceed as they normally would with the meeting.”

  It still bothered Tommas, but he chose to ignore it until he could make a few calls.

  Reaching out, Dante snagged Tommas’ arm and lifted his wrist. The man eyed the new white gold band on Tommas’ ring finger.

  “Thank you for assuring he was married when he came, Damian,” Dante said.

  Damian laughed. “I had little to do with that.”

  Tommas took his arm back, and fixed his suit jacket. “It’s quite new, actually.”

  “Just three days old, hmm?” Dante asked.

  “You’ve been keeping track, I see,” Tommas replied.

  “Good bosses always do.” Dante shrugged like it didn’t make a difference, but the air of the boss of bosses still radiated off the man. He demanded respect, and he already had Tommas’ in the bucketful. “And where is your wife, Tommas?”

  “Enjoying the presidential suite across the city, and waiting for me to return to finish out our honeymoon.”

  Dante smirked. “It’s never good to keep a woman waiting. Let’s get this started and over with, yes?”

  “Absolutely,” Tommas agreed.

  “These are horse pills,” Abriella complained. “Fucking impossible, Tommy.”

  Amused by her pout, but knowing better than to tell her he was, Tommas slipped the large, pink prenatal vitamin from Abriella’s hand. He looked it over. “It’s not that big.”

  “Then you take it.”

  “Ella, I’m not the one who is pregnant.”

  “But if you were, would you swallow that thing?” she asked.

  Tommas eyed the pill again. “No.”

  “See!”

  Laughing under his breath, Tommas made quick work of chopping the pill using the butter knife from their breakfast tray. He split the pink pill into four pieces.

  “There, baby, manageable,” he said, handing the pieces over.

  Scowling playfully at having been bested, Abriella tossed the pills back with her remaining orange juice. Swathed in Egyptian cotton sheets, the peek of her skin and curves was enough to make Tommas harder than steel and dry in the mouth.

  God, he loved this woman.

  After Tommas had moved the tray from the bed, stripped down to nothing but his skin, and joined his wife in bed again, he was content. Her legs tangled with his, keeping him pinned in place and close to her smooth, sweet-smelling skin.

  “Well?” Abriella asked.

  “Well what?”

  “How did it go yesterday? You haven’t said a thing about it.”

  Tommas kissed the tip of her nose, earning himself a pretty smile. “It went okay. Better than I expected.”

  “I told you it would.”

  For as long as Tommas could remember, Abriella had been his confidant where the Outfit and mafia business was concerned. She let him talk, never judged his choices, and was one of the better people to go to for advice if he needed it.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” Tommas said. “You could have stayed in Chicago, but I wanted you here, so thank you.”

  Abriella snuggled in until she was tucked into his chest. One of his hands rested on the small of her back, keeping her close, while his other laid over the toned contour of her stomach.

  “You couldn’t leave me behind if you tried.”

  No, he probably couldn’t.

  “You’re my everything, Ella. You can’t leave something like that behind.”

  Abriella stilled in his arms, her blue eyes twinkling with an honest love. “Everything?”

  “Everything worth bleeding for.”

  “I guess it’s a damned good thing you’re what makes me breathe, huh?”

  Tommas didn’t tell her, but she kept him breathing, too.

  That’s how love worked.

  EPILOGUE

  “I love you, Tommy.”

  Tommas’ lips
curved into a smile against Abriella’s skin. “Do you?”

  “So very much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Abriella had spent so much time keeping those three simple words from Tommas that she made goddamn sure it was the first thing he heard from her mouth every morning, and one of the last things he heard from her at night.

  She hummed contentedly at the sensations coursing through her body. Tommas’ dark chuckles filled the quiet bedroom with a heady, sexy melody. His wandering fingers and teasing kisses on her stomach seemed determined to wake her up. Abriella refused to open her eyes. Feeling was far better, anyway.

  “Ella,” Tommas whispered against her hip.

  “Hmm?”

  “Wake up.”

  “I am.”

  “Let me rephrase …”

  Abriella laughed when the very tips of Tommas’ fingers ticked up her side. “Please do.”

  “Open your eyes, Ella, and watch me while I fuck you good morning properly.”

  “We’re not having sex. We’re sleep—”

  Abriella’s words cut off the second she felt a familiar vibration against her thigh. It wasn’t a second later that the vibrator slipped between her thighs, the hum of the toy muffled under the blanket, and then slid between the fleshy lips of her pussy. Abriella’s gasp echoed in the room the moment the toy filled her sex. Tommas’ exploration of her body had made her wet and hot, and it allowed the toy easy entrance as the vibrations turned up a notch or two.

  “Jesus,” Abriella mumbled into her palm.

  She felt Tommas’ mouth press on the hood of her clit, adding an extra layer of intensity to the vibrator working her pussy. His tongue flicked hard against her clit over and over, leaving her begging for breath and right on the precipice of an orgasm.

  It wasn’t often that Tommas surprised her with something like a toy in bed. He preferred his body against hers, his hands working her to a peak, and his mouth lapping up anything that was left behind.

  Abriella wasn’t about to complain.

  Her muscles clenched in response to Tommas’ gravely hum of contentment against her sensitive clit. With every twist of the toy in his hands, her body was ready to give up the fight and freefall into bliss. He knew exactly how to play her body, and how to make it so much better if he wanted.

  “There … Oh, my God, Tommy, there.”

  Tommas sucked the hard nub of her clit between his teeth as he tilted the toy on the next thrust. The stimulation of Abriella’s G-spot mixed in with the shock of pain from her clit was enough to send the orgasm racing through her bloodstream.

  She froze for a brief second, stunned and shocked at how fast and how intense she came. She twisted off the bed with a shout stuck in the back of her throat as Tommas’ fingers bit into her thighs, forcing them open as she shook through the orgasm.

  “Cazzo perfetto,” Tommas praised lowly.

  His husky tone beat through the haze of Abriella’s senses. She vaguely felt the toy slide from between her legs and her body be turned under demanding hands. Still trembling and feeling a bead of sweat gather on her spine, Tommas’ warm fingers danced over her backside. It was only a flicker of his touch, a passing moment of his affection for her with his hands, but she had still felt it.

  Then he was pushing in.

  Abriella’s muscles tightened all over again at the sensation of her sensitive tissues between stretched and opened for her husband’s cock.

  “Tommy, wait …”

  Tommas hesitated, but barely. He was already half-way in and a blink away from pushing his cock in to the hilt. “What?”

  Abriella giggled at how whiney he sounded behind her. Like she’d just interrupted the one thing he wanted more than anything. “Just … wait a sec.”

  “Abriella,” Tommas said through what sounded like his teeth.

  She glanced over her shoulder, finding his jaw tight and his eyes blazing. Sliding her hand between their bodies, she glided the tips of her fingers over the base of her husband’s cock. Bare and wet from her pussy, his dick twitched under her touch.

  “No condom,” Abriella told him.

  Abriella hadn’t been on birth control for a while. She’d been terribly careful about using condoms for fear of getting pregnant. Apparently, Tommas was done with that nonsense.

  Tommas sighed, the action jostling his cock a little further into her soaked core. “Ella, come on.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Before you even start, I do, babe.”

  Abriella’s refusal caught in her throat and melted into a moan as Tommas pushed the rest of the way in and hit all the best spots inside her sex. “God, Tommy. It’s not even been a year.”

  “I know. Shut up and let me fuck you.”

  “But—”

  “Ella, I’m warning you, sweet girl. I will turn you over, shove my cock in your mouth, and fuck you quiet that way instead of like this. We both know you want this far more right now. But if you’re a good girl and let me pound into your pussy like I need to right now, I’ll still let you suck me clean once I’ve filled you full.”

  Abriella shivered, her pussy flexing and hugging him tighter as he began to withdrawal his cock slowly. Tommas’ responded with a groan.

  “Diapers,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Diapers. Bottles. Twelve, two, and four AM feedings. Car seats. Teething. Fevers. Late night runs to the store. Colic. Crying. No sleep. Midnight drives to make them sleep.”

  Tommas pulled Abriella back into his length, making her ass slap to his skin. “So?”

  “Labor,” she whispered. “Hours and hours of labor, Tommy. You remember that, right? You remember being scared, exhausted, and not wanting to do it again—twice. Because I sure do.”

  His fingers dug into her sides. “Stop it.”

  “Well, that’s what you want.”

  “It is. With you, of course it is. We make beautiful babies, Ella.”

  Abriella bit her lip and buried her face into the bed in an attempt to muffle the volume of her moan. It didn’t help much. She didn’t get the chance to make another noise before Tommas’ hand was covering her mouth and his wet fingers, slick with her arousal, pushed in between her lips to find her tongue.

  She sucked his digits clean as he fucked her hard from behind. Abriella whined, happy and blissed, when Tommas fisted her hair and pulled her head to the side. The roughness in his actions only made her wetter—it got her off even more. She backed into every thrust, feeling him hit her deeper with each one. The rougher he fucked her, the better it was.

  There was no love-making in their bed.

  Not the usual kind.

  Softness wasn’t good for her when she needed to feel him still between her thighs long after he left their home for the day. Sweetness did nothing for her when she liked his dirty talk, and his names, and his dark promises ringing through her mind for hours.

  This was perfect.

  This was them.

  “There’s my girl,” Tommas growled into her ear. “Fucking me so good, Ella. You’re tight as hell, baby. Love this pussy.”

  His words were punctuated by a hard slap to her ass. The heat of the sting traveled from her backside straight to her wet pussy. Abriella responded to his tap by biting down on his fingers. He liked to take it as much as he gave it. It only added to their tempo and the sound of their bodies meeting again and again.

  And then his whispers came dark and dirty in her ear.

  Just how she liked.

  Little slut.

  Fuck that cock, Ella.

  Take it, baby. Fucking take it.

  Tommas’ hand slipped away from her mouth to grab Abriella under her throat. She never worried about him hurting her, or that his hand might squeeze too tightly for once. He wouldn’t ever do something to ruin the trust that she gave to him every time he used her in bed. Because for as much as Tommas did use her for however he saw fit, he also needed what she gave. The compliance. His dirty girl. Hi
s friend and lover.

  She was still his slut in their bed. That had never changed. Nearly ten years did nothing to affect their sex life inside of a bedroom … or even outside of it. Abriella would still drop to her knees for this man in a back alley and suck his cock when he told her to. She would still let him finger-fuck her under a table full of guests. She would always pull him into the closest room and let him bend her over whatever he could, even if there was a room full of people next door.

  Abriella would always be whatever Tommas wanted in the bedroom, because he let her be whatever she needed.

  And outside?

  Outside, she was still his equal.

  Using one hand to keep her steady on the bed, Abriella reached back with her other to find Tommas’ fingers weaved into her hair. She grabbed onto his wrist and held tight, letting her nails score into his skin as their pace became frantic and brutal.

  “Make me come,” Abriella whispered.

  “So fucking hard,” Tommas breathed.

  Her second orgasm came on much like the first had. Suspended in time, airless, weightless, and there in a blink of time.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Yes,” Tommas ground out. “Make me fucking come, Ella. Come on, sweet girl.”

  He fucked her through the tremors until her body protested in the best way, and she couldn’t breathe. Her pussy milked him into his own release, and Abriella felt the ropey stream of his come fill her deep.

  She gasped for air and came up with nothing.

  Not a drop.

  Breathless.

  This man made her breathless.

  They were damn dirty, bloodstained by his own hands, and by hers.

  Perfection was a myth.

  Beauty was in the flaws.

  A stream of light woke Abriella. Strong, warm arms tightened around her frame as she blinked at the early morning sunlight coming in from the crack in the curtain.

  “Tommas?”

  “Mmhmm?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Six-thirty.”

  Abriella groaned. “What time did you wake me up earlier?”