Bound By The Past (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 7)

by Reilly, Cora

  Valentina gave me an exasperated look. As usual, it angered and thrilled me equally. So very few people dared to show their true feelings in my company. “He brought his lover home sometimes,” she said.

  “Why didn’t he sleep with you to create offspring? That would have fended off possible suspicions.” They hadn’t been married very long but eventually, people would have questioned why they were childless. It had been the case with me and Carla. I shoved the thought away.

  “I don’t think that would have worked. You know…” She pointed toward my cock.

  “He was infertile?”

  A dark blush spread on Valentina’s cheeks, making me wonder why I was still bothering holding back. I wasn’t a good man, and trying to be one was a waste of time. I’d claim her, eventually.

  “No, he mentioned once that he couldn’t get one up with women.” I returned my attention to Valentina who looked honestly uncomfortable, and her words made me realize something else. She’d never seen an erection.

  I needed to focus on protecting the Outfit, not the nature of my desire for my wife.

  “Who was his lover?”

  “I can’t tell you. Please don’t make me.”

  I regarded Valentina’s face closely as I touched her upper arms, knowing the effect my closeness had on her. “If it’s someone from the Outfit I need to know, and if he isn’t… the Outfit comes first. I need to protect all those placing their trust in me.”

  “I can’t tell you. I won’t. I’m sorry, Dante, but no matter what you do, I won’t give you a name.”

  Disobedience wasn’t something I tolerated, not even in my family. Carla had never opposed me, had been naturally submissive, but Valentina was anything but. It made me want to force her into submitting. “You’ve lived a sheltered life, Valentina. I’ve had hardened men say the same to me, and in the end they gave up all their secrets.”

  “Then do what you have to do,” she gritted out and withdrew from my hold once more. “Cut off my toes and feed them to me. Beat me, burn me, cut me, but I’d rather die than be responsible for the death of an innocent man.”

  Innocent. That wasn’t a term she would have used for a Made Man. “So he’s an outsider.”

  Valentina’s expression was all the answer I needed. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. If Antonio took his lover home, I assume you’ve met him and know his name and can describe him to me.”

  Valentina lifted her chin in defiance. Something deep in my chest stirred, something possessive and primal. I moved close again, forcing her to deal with my presence.

  “Aren’t you loyal to me? Don’t you think you owe me the truth? Don’t you think it’s your duty? Not only because I’m the Boss of the Outfit, but because I’m your husband,” I said.

  Valentina narrowed her eyes. That wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. “And you owe me a decent wedding night. As my husband, it should be your duty to take care of my needs. I suppose we both will have to live with the disappointment.”

  Fuck it all. The problem was I wanted to fuck her, to fuck her into submitting, wanted to domineer and possess her. It wasn’t what she needed, what a husband should do, but fuck, she was pushing my buttons. I’d never felt that urge with Carla. She’d been so gentle-minded and submissive, I could have never fucked her like I wanted to fuck Valentina. I’d only made love to her.

  I grabbed Valentina and jerked her against me, so her back was pressed up against my chest and her firm butt against my cock. I considered gripping her neck and bending her over, considered fucking her right here and there from behind. Maybe then she’d stop wanting me to become the husband she desired.

  “I’m a patient hunter, Valentina,” I said quietly, stifling my darkness, my anger, and sadness. “You will tell me what I want to know eventually.” I ran my palm down her side, feeling her tremble under the touch and my cock stirring in response. My fingertips grazed her smooth thigh and Valentina held her breath, desperate for my touch, but not as desperate as I felt to claim her. God, I wanted to own this woman.

  My hand trailed up her thigh until I reached her panties. The lace was drenched with her juices. Valentina’s arousal was like a siren’s song. She leaned back against me, her breathing deepening, nipples puckering under her flimsy nightgown. Begging me to fuck her. I pushed a finger under her panties, stifling a groan at the feel of her wet, hot slit. My finger stroked over her soft flesh, then delved between her folds, feeling their smoothness and Valentina’s wetness. “You want this?” I growled, my voice drenched with desire. I needed to get a grip on myself, needed to rein this in. Losing control wasn’t an option.

  “Yes,” Valentina said. Her voice was throaty, needy. She pressed her pussy against my hand, making my finger glide over her opening. I wrapped my arm around her waist, stopping her movements. Feeling her tight pussy against my fingertip made me want to exchange the digit for my cock. “I want you, Dante.”

  “Tell me what I want to know.” I wasn’t even sure if this was still about coercing information out of my wife because I doubted I could have stopped rubbing my fingers over her folds. Valentina’s breathing deepened, her hips making small rocking motions as she got closer to her release. She got wetter, and I had to force myself to keep up the gentle touch and not finger-fuck her like I’d fantasized about. Valentina began to shake, more arousal making my fingertips slide easily between her pussy lips. Valentina leaned her head back against my shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”

  Didn’t she see? I wanted to fuck her so hard she couldn’t walk, wanted to spill my cum down her throat, wanted to claim her. Her green eyes swam with need and desire, and that alone might have convinced me to throw her on the bed and show her how much I wanted her. But behind the apparent desire, I detected her insecurity, her anxiety, her need for tenderness. I stroked my finger up to her clit, rubbing it with the pad and Valentina’s eyes widened in shock, her perfect lips falling open, as she came under my hand. My cock was painfully hard as I watched her succumb to pleasure, knowing I could give her so much more, show her different forms of pleasure.

  I wanted Valentina, had never desired a woman like I did her. And that was the problem. She was my wife. I’d made a vow to be good to her and I would keep it. I wouldn’t fuck her, not when she deserved lovemaking and tenderness. My wife, not a whore. “I do. That’s the problem.” I released her before I did something I’d regret, and definitely something she would regret. I didn’t look at her again as I strode out of the bedroom, needing to bring distance between my wife and me.

  I didn’t slow my steps until I reached my office and closed the door. I went straight to the liquor cabinet, fixing myself a strong drink. The moment I brought up the glass with the whiskey, I released a harsh breath and closed my eyes. Valentina’s scent lingered on my fingers. The sweet scent of her arousal. I wanted to taste it, taste her. I downed the whiskey in one gulp and put the glass back down. My cock pressed against my pants, hard and leaking pre-cum. I resisted the urge to jerk off in the middle of my office. I wasn’t a goddamn teenage boy and even then, I’d possessed more self-control than that.

  I walked around the desk and sank down, my eyes going to the picture frame on the mahogany surface. An image of Carla and me shortly after we’d married. My chest tightened as it always did when I looked at the picture. A flicker of guilt filled me. It wasn’t an emotion I was very familiar with.

  I’d sworn to Carla that I would always love her, always remember her. I’d sworn it on her deathbed, had made a vow. I had never wanted to marry after she’d died. I’d wanted to live with her memory like I’d sworn.

  People thought I was the epitome of control but I wasn’t. It hadn’t taken long after Carla’s death before I’d broken the first promise, before I’d sought whores to fuck. It had been angry, desperate fucking, a way to relieve tension and pain. I’d made peace with my sinful nature, had told myself it didn’t affect the vow I gave because these women were nothing but a fuck thing. The
y might as well have been rubber dolls for all I cared about them.

  But things with Valentina were different. I desired her, wanted to fuck her, but I respected her, not only because she was my wife, but also because of her cleverness and her backbone. She was a good woman. A woman who deserved a good husband. Sighing, I opened my laptop, deciding to bury myself in last month’s numbers to distract myself, and knowing full well it wouldn’t work forever.

  It was way after midnight when I moved up to the bedroom. Instead of heading into the bathroom to get ready, I went over to the bed. Valentina lay on her back, face tilted toward my side of the bed. In the sliver of light streaming in from the hallway, her skin glowed enticingly. One long leg peeked out from under the covers, making me want to trace her smooth skin again, to reach higher and slide a finger into her.

  I turned and grabbed pajama bottoms on my way outside. It was better if I spent the night in my office as long as I didn’t get a better grip on my desire.

  My mind wandered to Valentina, to her admittance.

  I’d chosen a married woman because I didn’t want the burden of being with a virgin because I knew I couldn’t be what an inexperienced woman needed. A gentle lover who held them in his arms as he whispered words of adoration in their ear.

  The man capable of that kind of thing had died with Carla. That man had only ever existed because of Carla.

  It wasn’t in my nature to be gentle or loving, now less than ever.

  Still a depraved part of me, the part I hid behind expensive suits and a mask of utter control, rejoiced at the knowledge of Valentina’s innocence. That part of me wanted to lay claim on her.

  I fought the desire, held on to my outward control, when I knew it was a losing battle. I wanted Valentina, wanted her like most men would want a woman of her beauty and inexperience. Wanted to own and corrupt her. I hadn’t been with a woman since I’d married Valentina and even before that my visits with whores had been infrequent. My body screamed for release, and not just of my desire, also of the pent-up anger simmering in my veins.

  But Valentina was my wife and she deserved better than sex out of anger. I knew I wouldn’t be able to give her much more.

  After two cups of black coffee, I hid in my office again the next morning. I’d never avoided someone. It wasn’t in my nature. I thrived on conflict.

  My eyes darted to the picture frame with a photo of Carla. I grabbed it. These last few days fewer of my nights had been filled with the memory of her last breath. Instead phantasies of claiming Valentina had occupied my nights.

  Valentina opened the door.

  I quickly set down the frame. “What are you doing here?”

  My voice was harsh.

  Valentina froze for a moment before she squared her shoulders. “This is my home too, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is, but this is my office and I need to work.”

  “You always do. I wanted to see if you were all right.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Why? Because you acted very strange yesterday. One moment you’re touching me and the next you can’t get away from me fast enough.”

  If only she knew… “You don’t know anything about me, Valentina.”

  “I know, and I want to change that, but you keep pushing me away.”

  My eyes darted to Carla once more. “I never wanted to get married again. For good reason.”

  “I didn’t ask you to marry me!” Valentina snapped, surprising me with her unbridled anger, so unrestrained and exhilarating.

  She whirled around and rushed off, throwing the door shut with so much force that a book tumbled off the shelf. Like a hunter awakened, I chased her and gripped her wrist. “You have an impossible temper.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and fuck, I wanted to sink my cock into her right in the middle of the hallway.

  “That’s your fault.”

  “This marriage has always been for practical reasons. I told you that.”

  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to make it a real marriage. There are no logical reasons why we shouldn’t sleep with each other. You slept with prostitutes, so why can’t you sleep with me?”

  Her eyes swam with confusion and hurt. Valentina was young and in some regards naïve, even if she often put up a sophisticated front. “Because I was angry and I wanted to fuck someone. I wanted it rough and hard. I wasn’t looking for closeness or tenderness or whatever it is you want. I took whatever pleasure I wanted, and then I left. What you’re looking for, I can’t give you. The part that was capable of it died with my wife, and it won’t come back.”

  Valentina shifted closer. “You don’t know what I want. Maybe we want the same thing.”

  “I can see in your eyes that’s not true. You want to make love, but I can’t give you that. I do want to possess you, want to own every part of you, but not for the reasons you want me to. I’m a heartless bastard, Valentina. Don’t try to see anything else in me. The business suit and emotionless face is the thin layer covering up the fucking abyss that’s my soul and heart. Don’t try to glimpse beneath it—you won’t like what you find.”

  I released her and stalked back into my office.

  Getting work done was out of the question after our argument. All I could think about was Valentina.

  When a knock sounded around dinnertime, I expected Valentina to ask if I would eat with her. The moment I opened the door, I knew that wasn’t the reason why she was here. Beneath the silky material of her bathrobe she was naked.

  “Can I come in?”

  I stepped back and walked over to the desk, away from my wife, even as my insides screamed for me to rip away the last piece of clothing.

  Steeling my expression, I asked, “What’s going on?”

  “I made up my mind.”

  “About what?”

  Valentina parted her bathrobe, revealing a body straight out of my darkest fantasies. Valentina was tall and slim with enticingly swung hips. A small patch of dark hair covered her sex. “About us. About sex.”

  My groin tightened but I forced my eyes away. “You should leave.”

  “Don’t turn your back on me. Look at me. I think I deserve at least that small decency, Dante.”

  She didn’t know anything.

  “Am I your wife?”

  “Of course, you are.” Which was part of the problem. If she were any woman, I’d have fucked her already.

  “Then claim your rights, Dante. Make me yours.”

  My gaze traced her nipples, imagining tasting them, sucking them while I slammed into her.

  “I have needs too. Would you prefer if I found a lover who relieved you of the burden to touch me?”

  Raw jealousy shot through me. “No,” I growled, moving closer to Val. The need to possess her filled me, almost impossible to suppress.

  Valentina pressed her naked body against mine. I grabbed her, touching the heated skin of her back. The desire in her eyes was a trickling creek in comparison to the raging Tsunami of my hunger for her. Valentina pushed up to kiss me but I didn’t lower my head.

  Hurt, she stumbled away and fled my office.

  She didn’t deserve this. I glanced down at my white-knuckled fist then at the bulge in my pants. Who the fuck was I kidding? I wasn’t a good man. I could take whatever I wanted, why did I deprive myself when Valentina was willing? I wanted her, and Valentina wanted me. I’d always prided myself on my control, so why was I so scared of losing it around her?

  Without thinking it through, I went in search of my wife. I still wasn’t sure what I’d do once I saw her, if I’d finally listen to the roaring voice in my body demanding I claim her.

  I opened the bedroom door and found Valentina on the bed. Her bathrobe wide open, her legs slightly parted and her elegant, long fingers stroking her pussy. She let out a moan I felt in every damn fiber of my body and I sucked in a breath, knowing the battle I’d fought these last few weeks was lost.

  There was no use trying to stop the uns
toppable. Tonight I’d make her mine.

  Valentina’s eyes opened in shock. She wrenched her hand back, closed her bathrobe and tried to get off the bed.

  I moved without thinking, barring her way. She looked up at me in shock, her fingers still pressing her robe together, depriving me of her gorgeous body. “No,” I got out, past the pulsating desire in my body.

  I bent over her, forcing her back and she yielded, lying down and looking up at me with huge eyes. She smelled delicious and finally her hand let go of the robe, letting it fall open, baring herself to me. I leaned further down. This woman was mine, every inch of her. Soon I’d bury myself in her.

  I supported my weight on one arm and parted Valentina’s legs with my knee. Her folds glistened with her arousal, and for a second I wanted to unzip my pants and take her right then. Maybe then she’d realize what kind of man I was.

  I cupped her breast, feeling her nipple harden against my palm. Valentina was so damn responsive, so ready to be taken. I pinched her nipple, a warning and promise, trying to see if she could really take what she would get. If she understood that this wouldn’t be lovemaking, that this would be me laying my claim, me ripping her innocence from her. Valentina arched up with a moan, and I was lost. I tugged at her nipple, coercing more moans from her parted lips. Her eyes were on my face, full of need and surprise. She rocked her hips with every tug of her nipple. This was turning her on, making her wet. It was obvious how untrained her body was, how willing to submit to pleasure. I’d show her so much of it. Her nipple was red from my ministrations and I couldn’t resist anymore. I bent down and sucked the silky nub into my mouth, enjoying how hard with arousal it was.

  Valentina bucked up, needing more, demanding I give her what she needed. But she’d have to learn that we played this by my rules only. I grabbed her hips and pressed her into the bed. She shifted her pussy against my knee, and I tightened my hold further. Her hot center against my knee made me want to stop the slow approach.