Coming Home (Morelli Family, #6)

by Sam Mariano

  “Do you want anyone else to have power over you, Mia?”

  “No,” I say, gasping a little as jolts of pleasure knock me off kilter. “No, only you.”

  “Did you do anything with the intention of hurting me?”

  I shake my head, closing my eyes as I approach an orgasm. “Never.”

  “Okay.” He stops rubbing my clit just as I’m about to come and I cry out with frustration. “Then you did nothing wrong,” he states. “And you deserve my cock.”

  My frustration turns to euphoria as he slams his cock inside me, hard, punishing, everything I need it to be right now. My body craves the impact every time his hips thrust forward and he buries himself deep inside me. His cock is like a battering ram, storming the gates, and I want nothing more than for him to come inside.

  My pulse pounds as he uses me roughly, not releasing my hands so my body scrapes across the bed with every thrust. It feels so fucking good, I think I might die. The friction of the bedding chafing my breasts as he fucks me mercilessly, pounding into me so hard I think he might split me in half.

  “I’ve missed your pussy, sweetheart. I’ve missed using you.”

  “Oh, god,” I manage on a pant, trying to free my hands again. His grip only tightens. “Oh, god, Mateo.” He thrusts inside me so deep and so fast, and I can’t take it anymore. I cry out, my pussy convulsing around his length, squeezing him as he continues to pump in and out of my body.

  After my orgasm subsides, I wait for him, loving every thrust just as much as the ones that built to my orgasm, because now I know he’ll get his. My body will bring him pleasure, and that’s my favorite thing in the whole world.

  I sigh with satisfaction when he finally groans, when I feel the shift in his thrust as he empties himself inside my body.

  Finally, he releases my hand, rolling me over onto my back and lying down beside me. With a deep sigh of contentment, he drapes his arm across my waist and tugs me against him. Since he didn’t get to kiss me while he fucked me, he captures my mouth, lazily caressing my tongue with his. I lean over him, drawing closer. I close my eyes and kiss him back, wanting him as much now as I did before he fucked me.

  I’ll never stop wanting Mateo. I’ll never get enough of him.

  After a few minutes, I snuggle up on his chest and let him wrap his strong arms around me. To my immense relief, my connection to this man is untarnished, vibrating inside me, coursing through my veins like the blood that gives me life. Every demon in hell could try to pull him away from me, and every last one of them would fail.

  I wouldn’t ordinarily say something like this to him, but suddenly a declaration bubbles up inside of me and I can’t keep it in.

  “You’re mine, Mateo.”

  My heart skips a beat, saying that to him. I dare a glance at him, feeling like I just put a collar on a tiger, but I don’t mean it that way. It’s not a restrictive thing. Our love isn’t restrictive, despite his personality. It’s like a rare gem protected by a force of nature, like priceless treasure stored safely in the calm center of a tumultuous storm. No one can ever get to it, because there’s a whole cyclone that would tear apart anyone who dared try.

  No one can touch me, but him.

  No one can reach him, but me.

  Together we’re impenetrable. No one can touch us.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mia

  Water beats down on me in the shower. Mateo’s hands come up behind me, lathering my naked breasts with soap. I close my eyes, tilting my head back against his shoulder, reveling in his touch.

  He drops his head forward, leaving a few kisses along my shoulder. His hands travel down my torso, soaping up my abdomen, then dropping lower.

  Smiling, I catch his hand. “Watch it, mister. I’m going to want an encore performance if you keep that up.”

  “I’m not hearing a reason to stop,” he informs me, freeing his hand so it can move between my legs.

  “We have dinner guests,” I tell him.

  “Mmm, yes,” he murmurs, his voice a little less intimate. “Is Rafe going to be a problem?”

  I’ve felt much lighter since Mateo’s pardon, but now discomfort reemerges. Guilt tries to gather in my chest, but I stamp it out. Mateo doesn’t want my guilt. With as much casualness as I can muster, I say, “I don’t see why he would.”

  Mateo spins me around. I hold my breath, unsure what I’m going to see, but instead of any hint of resentment or jealousy, I see amusement in those beautiful brown eyes I love so much. “You have a tendency to make even the most self-possessed among us lose our goddamn minds.”

  I’m inordinately flattered, and I can’t keep a slight smile off my face. I couldn’t care less about other men, but it makes me feel pretty powerful that he’s including himself in that statement. Draping my arms around his neck, I lean in to give him a lingering kiss.

  “You have the strongest mind I’ve ever encountered, Mr. Morelli. I certainly haven’t made you lose it.”

  “Well, you haven’t been here the past week,” he mutters, wryly. Switching back to the task at hand, he says, “I’m not angry, I just need the truth. I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  I’m relieved, I guess, but the prospect of him not being bothered by the idea of someone else having sex with me actually bothers me more than the alternative. “Why aren’t you mad?”

  My arms are still around him, and he looks down at me with that look of appraisal in his eyes, reading me. “Because I love you, and I needed you to come back to me. I suppose we should have discussed this, given the risks of my position. For future reference, if you ever find yourself in a situation like that again, I want you to do whatever you have to do to get out of it safely. Ensuring your own safety isn’t cheating. Use whatever you have to use, manipulate whomever you have to manipulate, just make it out safely and come back home.”

  I sigh, leaning against him. “You’re so… I don’t even know the word for you.”

  Smirking lightly, he says, “To be honest, I’m sort of relieved. I’ve always believed you had good survival instincts, but this has made me feel a lot better about a concern I’ve had that I couldn’t test, since I promised not to do anything so awful to you again.”

  My curiosity is piqued. “What concern is that?”

  His eyes roam my face, like he’s taking in every curve, every plane. “I’ve worried about what might happen to you if something ever happened to me. You’re soft, and I keep you soft because it’s what I need from you, but soft can be a disadvantage in this world. I’ve made you pretty dependent upon me because it’s what I like, it’s what I wanted from you, and it suits us both. But I wasn’t sure how you’d do on your own. It’s reassuring to me that thrown into a new environment with no one in your corner, you managed to attract the strongest chance of survival and bring him onto your side. Your survival instincts kick in the same way mine would, the same way Meg’s do, they’re just different. Meg would plot. I would manipulate. You attract. You ooze this softness, this need to be saved. You lure people in with the illusion of harmlessness, but you are not harmless.”

  Rolling my eyes with a grin, I say, “You make me sound so deceptive.”

  “You’re not, though, that’s what makes it interesting. You don’t use people on purpose; your instincts and emotions just work together to give you the best odds of survival. I love it. Before I met you, I never would’ve believed someone could be so innocently crafty, but you are. I admire that.”

  “Well, I think you’re giving me more credit than I deserve. It wasn’t a well thought out, well-executed plan. Shit just sort of happened. I appreciate that you think I’m some sweet siren hell-bent on survival, but no. I was just really drunk and sad, and someone who reminded me of you showed up. It was dumb luck. If you want to call it that, because I did not feel lucky.”

  Now he frowns. “Did he hurt you?”

  I shake my head. “No, Rafe didn’t hurt me. I just… I felt so horrible.” I’m not looking at him, becau
se how can I? “I feel weird talking to you about this.”

  Mateo shakes his head. “Don’t keep secrets from me, Mia. I want to know what happened.”

  “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Smiling faintly, he caresses my face. “I’m made of pretty stern stuff. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Rafe didn’t want me to tell you,” I add.

  “I don’t care what he wants,” he says, simply. “He brought you to me, that’s where his usefulness ends. Now I want to know what happened.”

  “We didn’t have sex.”

  His eyebrows rise at this, like he’s surprised. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying,” I insist, meeting his gaze. “It didn’t go that far. I don’t even fully understand how it happened, he’s just really commanding, and when he tells me to do something, I just sort of do it. That’s why I said he reminded me of you.”

  Mateo nods, not looking the least bit surprised by this.

  “And I did want to get him on my side, but that wasn’t why I…” I trail off, swallowing. I decide to just get it out there, since he’s already said it’s okay, and he assumed worse anyway. “He only touched me. We didn’t have sex, he just cornered me when I was drunk and sad and scared I’d never get back home, and he had said maybe he would consider helping me so I was trying to stay on his good side, but I didn’t think of it that way. I wasn’t trying to use my body to make him help me.”

  Smiling slightly, Mateo suggests, “Maybe you didn’t think you were.”

  “Maybe you’re just so used to your organized, purposeful view of the world, you don’t realize I’m just a mess.”

  This makes him laugh. “You are not a mess,” he says affectionately, tugging me against him. “I see things in you that you can’t see in yourself. I’ve watched you respond to me and everything I’ve put you through a million different ways. I don’t know why you are the way you are, but I do know how you operate, whether you believe me or not.”

  “Well, I like your vision of me,” I tell him. “She seems way more impressive than my version.”

  “You’re very impressive,” he informs me, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “Was he with you the whole time you were there? Was he helping them keep you?”

  I shake my head. “No, he was a neighbor. I actually only saw him twice. I tried to escape but I ended up at his house. He escorted me back to Ben’s house and told me to make him breakfast. I did, for some reason. Then last night he came over for a cookout and he was there for a few hours, we got drunk, the pool happened, then I flipped my shit on Vince, Rafe stepped in… and that was it. Then Rafe took me to his house to sleep, just to keep me from Vince, and then he called you.”

  He looks more than a little impressed. “You met him two times and he saved you? You must’ve made quite the impression.”

  “I got the impression he liked me,” I admit, before adding dryly, “I think the alcohol helped. It made me really open. I was telling him I was scared and various embarrassingly vulnerable things I normally wouldn’t.”

  He runs his hands tenderly down my arms, the left side of his mouth curving up ever so slightly. “Oh, I’m sure he liked that.”

  I shrug. “I guess so.”

  “Did you kiss him?”

  I can’t help looking guilty. “Once. By accident, kinda. I kissed him back, I didn’t initiate. But only once and it wasn’t a real kiss, it was just… hardly worth mentioning. And I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I know,” he says, leaning in to give me a kiss that is worth mentioning.

  When he pulls back, I continue, “I was so afraid you’d get Beth flashbacks. Vince kept trying to convince me you were going to kill me.”

  He sounds only mildly curious when he asks, “Did you believe him?”

  Grimacing, I say, “No?”

  Mateo laughs. Because it’s funny when the woman you love thinks there might be a chance you’ll murder her, clearly.

  I lightly shove him, but he catches my wrist and pulls me in for another kiss, eyes dancing with amusement. “I was fairly certain you wouldn’t.”

  “I promise never to murder you. How’s that?”

  Nodding with mock-consideration, I say, “I’ll take it.”

  After our shower, I feel recharged as Mateo and I get ready to go downstairs. Apparently Meg stole some of my make-up while I was gone, because when I open the drawer to use hers, I find many of my own items instead.

  Mateo finishes getting ready before me, so he tells me he’s going to head downstairs ahead of me. I finish primping, then I go to steal one of Meg’s dresses, but I don’t even make it to the walk-in because Mateo’s already laid one out for me—a pretty gold dress, low-cut, skimpy, and sparkly. It’s new, so I have to cut the tags off before I slip it on, then I slide on a pair of nude pumps at the edge of the bed and head downstairs to join my man.

  Well, our man.

  God, it’s good to be home.

  I’m amazed as I enter the study and I can look at Rafe without guilt. I haven’t been able to since last night, but with his words, his kisses, his control, Mateo stripped away my shame and replaced it with peace. I’m still not sure my instincts are as sharp as he says, but I like the idea, so I’ll take it.

  He’s also usually right. I wouldn’t tell him that, of course, but he totally is.

  Mateo’s arm curls possessively around my waist as we enter the room, an unconscious gesture, I think, but Rafe notices it and looks faintly amused. Adrian looks a little less amused, but he’s probably just thinking of the mess he’ll have on his hands if Mateo kills his cousin.

  God, I’ve missed these guys. I’ve missed my family. I’ve missed the peaceful feeling of knowing I’m exactly where I belong. I know Mateo won’t have Bella brought to his study, but I hope he lets her come to dinner. If not, I’ll have to go find her after so I can apologize for the disappearing act.

  “So, that’s what you look like in clothes,” Rafe remarks.

  I narrow my eyes at him, unamused.

  I expect Mateo to head over to his perch at the edge of his desk like he always does, asserting his dominance, but he surprises me completely by heading over to the chair opposite Rafe and taking a seat.

  I expected there to be an unpleasant undercurrent, despite Mateo’s words upstairs, but there isn’t. He and Rafe chat just like he chats with any of the guys, but there is an undercurrent of similarity between them, like two lions at the watering hole. Ordinarily Mateo is very obviously the lion, the king, the boss of every person in the room. He doesn’t have to do anything to be that—he just is. It’s in his blood, it’s as much a part of him as anything; he commands, it’s what he does.

  His cousin Rafe still has a commanding presence, though. I don’t feel the attraction to him that I felt in Vegas; Mateo is here now, and he’ll never have any real competition for my loyalty. He never has. Even when my loyalty shouldn’t have been his, it was. But I get the impression Rafe could command a room, too. I wonder if that’s why they stay over a thousand miles apart. Maybe in small doses they can coexist, but their competitive natures become an issue and they butt heads with prolonged exposure.

  For tonight, though, I enjoy basking in the presence of lions. There’s something so beautiful about them both, and I really like them together. It reminds me of Vegas, when I kept trying to make Rafe like Mateo. Maybe he’s onto something about my instincts—maybe Rafe is a better friend to have than an enemy, and unconsciously I wanted to eliminate even the distant threat by smoothing things over, convincing him to like Mateo.

  Or maybe I’m just too peaceable. Who knows?

  Eventually Meg comes in. I flash her a smile and approach her, my gaze moving over her cute little baby bump. It’s rounder and more adorable with this pregnancy; with Rosalie it was definitely bulkier.

  Splaying my hand over her belly, I give it a little rub. “Hey there, baby Morelli. Did you miss me?”

  “Okay, freak, hands off the belly.”

 
I roll my eyes at her. “I missed you, too.”

  She gives me a little hug, but her bump is slightly in the way. “I figured you’d be okay. Just flash your baby blues and Satan himself falls at your feet.” Glancing beyond me at the new Morelli in the room, she doesn’t miss a beat before adding, “Who’s the new eye candy?”

  Mateo answers dryly, “Satan, apparently.”

  Rafe rolls his eyes. “I’ve never fallen at anyone’s feet. Rafe Morelli. And you are?”

  “Meg.”

  “No last name?”

  “I’m like Prince; I don’t need one.”

  Wrapping my arm around her and giving her a squeeze, I tell him, “This is my sister wife.”

  Rafe’s golden eyebrows rise. “Excuse me?”

  Meg waves me off. “We don’t have to talk about that. It’s boring.”

  “It doesn’t sound boring,” Rafe objects. “That sounds very, very interesting.” Now he gestures between the two of us. “You two entertain at the same time?”

  Meg winks and offers a suggestive smile. “We have.”

  Rafe glances at me, as if imagining that. Finally he looks back at Mateo. “You lead a charmed life, don’t you?”

  Mateo merely grins.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Mia

  “Thank you so much.”

  The maid glances at me funnily, then nods in acknowledgement as she places my strawberry tort down in front of me. Being made to serve Vince’s family in Vegas has made me a little more appreciative of the help. If they like us, maybe it’s not such a bad gig, but who knows if they actually do. Maria loves us, I think. It’s hard to tell with her, but I’m pretty sure she cares. The newer maid I haven’t paid as much attention to. I guess it’s not like they can give honest feedback. I should implement some kind of check-in with them, to make sure nobody’s miserable here from time to time.