Me. Not him.
He was nothing but a retired figurehead, a man who liked to see himself as the head of a family that no longer existed. That family had died with his brother, been replaced with the family that Matteo and I built from the ground up and filled with people who were loyal to us. People who would protect each other with our lives before seeing us harmed.
Everything a family should have been.
“Do you need something?” I asked as soon as the door closed behind them. I wouldn’t put it past my father to inform Yavin of my marriage if I gave any indication that Yavin didn’t already know, so I made sure to school my features when he finally turned to face me. I couldn’t let on that having him so close to Vin made my pulse skip with anxiety.
I owed it to Samara to give her the chance to be present when her brother found out, and I wouldn’t let my father take that from her.
“Are you pleased with yourself, boy?” he asked, standing from his seat in the front. The wide chair afforded the best lap dances.
“About what exactly?” I asked, even if I knew the answer, I wouldn’t give more than necessary. When it came to conversations with my father, less was more.
“Marrying that brat!” he hissed. “She has no place bearing my name. She doesn’t even have the dignity to look like she could pass for Italian.”
“That brat is my wife, and you will address her with respect or refrain from speaking of her at all. I would prefer the latter, since she’s too good for the filth that you are.” I glared at him.
“Angelino, Matteo has already sullied our blood with that woman he married. You are our only hope of bringing forward a future generation that would make your grandfather proud. It isn’t too late to make the right decision. We can simply dispose of her, and you’ll be free to marry someone appropriate. Elena is still willing to marry you even though you’ve tainted yourself with a Jew—”
His words broke off when I vaulted forward, grasping him around the throat with one hand. When he stumbled away, his back hit the edge of the stage and he hissed through his teeth in pain. I pushed further, using my grip on his throat as leverage until he bent backward and his feet slipped out from underneath him. I used my hand on his neck to pin him to the stage as I leaned down into his face. “You will not ever suggest disposing of my wife again. You will not suggest anything to do with her. I will not divorce her. I will not marry or impregnate another woman if she disappears, and if anything happens to her I will come for your head. Am I clear?”
He gasped; his voice lost in the pressure of my hand at his throat. “Fucking nod.”
His face twisted, but he nodded his agreement regardless.
When I released him and stepped back, he collapsed to the floor in a pathetic pile. For all the times I’d suffered at his hands as a child, he’d never bothered to become anything better than a pathetic abuser who preyed on women and children.
I straightened my suit as I watched him stumble to his feet. “You would do well to remember that you have no power here. Keep our wives out of your filthy mouth, or you may quickly find you no longer have a tongue.”
I ignored his sneer, turning on my heel and leaving the room. I had a wife to collect from work, and I’d be damned if the man kept me from her for any longer than he already had.
Twenty-Six
Samara
There was one thing to be said about going back to work.
It made me miss Lino. Which seemed ridiculous. I'd gone through most of my life without seeing him constantly. Even on the days when I did see him, his work hours often made it such that I would meet him for lunch and that would be it until the next time. Brief stolen moments in time where he liked to pretend he was normal enough to just have lunch with his friend.
Where he pretended he wouldn't be off to make money for a criminal Kingpin as soon as we finished our meal. Or where he acted like he didn't stay up most of the night in the interest of running the hottest dance club in the city.
So I felt pathetic, and sure that I'd be sitting down to a takeout dinner alone that night. Having been so desperate to get back to work, I'd given zero thought to the implications of Lino returning to work. To the fact that I'd probably almost never see him. Never see my husband. He'd crawl into bed with me long after I went to sleep, and I'd wake up and leave before he woke up. Like two ships in the night, just passing each other and never really crossing paths in any meaningful way.
But I suspected in those moments where we did manage to connect, we'd crash into one another with a force that took my breath away.
I was wrapping up for the day, shutting down my computer and locking up all my confidential client files for the night. I hadn't anticipated just how much the temp's unfamiliarity with the clients could impact her work, taking my knowledge of them all for granted. I'd needed to rework Jasper's calendar, taking up most of my day because she'd scheduled meetings in inappropriate timeslots.
The widow who came onto Jasper constantly couldn't have the last spot of the day, because he needed another client to get her out the door.
The doctor who often canceled when he was on call couldn't have appointments early in the day because overnight surgeries turned him into a zombie who couldn't wrap his head around the numbers Jasper threw his way.
All the little details I'd learned over my few years at Lamb & Rowe. It was no wonder she hadn't been able to do her job to Jasper's satisfaction, because she'd never stood a chance without being armed with the kind of knowledge that no temporary employee would bother to learn.
When the door to the offices opened, I sighed. "Did Lino tell you I'm incapable of finding my way to the lobby?" I asked without facing our visitor. Given the timing, I had to assume it was Emilio coming to pick me up.
"I suppose I did, yes. We both know how well I like to be told what to do, Little Dove," Lino said, making my head snap up to find him staring at me. He wore the same grey suit he'd worn when I left the house that morning, the lighter fabric working miracles against his olive skin and dark hair.
"Hi," I breathed in surprise. Biting the corner of my lip, I glanced to Jasper's occupied office before stepping around the back of my desk and snatching my purse off the top. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd surprise you," he murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets—waiting for me to take the lead. Respecting my place of business and the fact that I might want to keep some distance there. It only emboldened me, so I stepped into his chest and tilted my head up to give him my lips in a casual kiss. Those strong arms of his closed around me, wrapping me up until I immediately felt like I had found my way home.
"Color me surprised," I whispered with a smile.
"I missed you," he murmured. "I'm too attached to seeing this face anytime I feel like it. I don't like it when it isn't there for me to stare at."
I giggled, pressing my face into his chest as a flush crept up my neck. "I missed you too. So fucking much."
"Bellandi," Jasper's voice snapped through the otherwise silent space, and I turned in Lino's arms to glare at my boss.
"Rowe."
"Hurt her, and I won't give a shit what your last name is. I'll bury you. You got me?" Jasper warned.
"I would never hurt her, Rowe. I'm fairly certain you know that though," Lino smirked at the other man, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Jasper shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"Thanks for coming to work today, it will set us up for Monday. Have a good weekend," Jasper said, giving me a pointed look that said, "I told you so."
I stuck my tongue out at him when he turned his back to go into his office.
And then I let Lino guide me out and take me home. I didn't bite when he talked about what we would eat for dinner, because I very much had other things in mind.
And I wanted nothing to do with food until I got them.
✽✽✽
Lino and I both headed upstairs to change, and it was customary that I would go to change in the closet while he t
ook the bedroom. It worked for us, gave me a semblance of privacy. Even though Lino had seen my body, it seemed stupid to push those temptations when a bed was too close. I suspected that was why our only real sexual moments had happened in the kitchen. It gave me an added layer of protection, even if it was only an illusion.
Slipping my feet out of my heels, I ignored Lino asking me if I felt like ordering pizza, so he didn't have to cook. It was sweet that he wanted to go snuggle on the couch, because he'd missed me, but I focused on steadying my breaths as I turned to him. "Can you unzip me?"
He nodded wordlessly, and I turned to give him my back. He oh so carefully slid the zipper down, doing his best not to touch me. I wanted to moan my disappointment, but instead settled for a much more obvious way of getting his attention.
I slipped the cap sleeves off my shoulders, letting the black fabric slide down my body and pool at my bare feet. "Fuck, Samara. What are you doing?" I turned to face him, unbuttoning his suit jacket pointedly before I glanced up at him finally.
"I want this," I whispered. "I want to try."
"We don't have to rush, Little Dove. We have all the time in the world," he whispered, stilling my hand on his suit. I both loved and hated his patience, because while I felt like I was slowly coming apart at the seams with the need for him to take me, he was so composed.
If I couldn't feel his arousal tenting in his slacks as he hardened, I might have thought he didn't want me. But I was done assuming that, done feeling less or unattractive. Lino wanted me. Lino had touched me, and he jerked off to thoughts of me.
I wanted to find out if sex with him would make me feel as amazing as I pictured it in my mind. If he could make me come harder than I came to thoughts of him.
"Are you going to turn me down?" I asked, staring up at him from beneath my lashes and channeling all my faux bravado. "If I drop to my knees and take you down my throat, are you going to say no to me?"
"Fuck," he grunted, letting go of my hand. I continued unbuttoning the last two buttons, slipping my hands over his chest and underneath the jacket until I could shove it off his shoulders and peel it down his arms slowly. "You don't know what you're doing, vita mia. I don't want to scare you."
I grabbed his face in my hands, making him look at me while I whispered. "You could never scare me, not really. I might have trouble with some things, I don't know. But what I do know, is that it isn't you who scares me. It's not you who hurt me, who broke me. You're the one who is going to help me put the pieces back together. You're going to help fix me, Lino, but you can't do that if you don't fucking touch me." I pushed him, and something in his dark eyes shifted. His lips crashed against mine, all the urgency I needed to feel consuming him in that kiss. My hands went to the buttons of his shirt as he yanked at his tie, and I became painfully aware of my near nudity when his belt buckle brushed against my belly.
His tie flew across the room, his shirt landing behind him in a thump.
His belt buckle was cold in my fingers as I flicked it open, his hand replacing mine to unfasten his pants and let them fall down his thighs. He somehow even managed to look graceful when he bent and slipped off his shoes, leaving him in only his boxer briefs that clung to every corded muscle in his hips and thighs.
I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of him, explore and learn every dip and valley of his abs and the deep contours that lined up with his hip and the Adonis belt that led into his boxers like a sign that said "lick here."
I just flat out wanted him.
His mouth took mine again, his hand tangling in my hair so that he could tilt my head to the best angle and plunder me with deep strokes of his tongue that made me melt.
Made me feel loved.
I wanted it. Wanted that. So when he walked me back toward the bed, I didn't hesitate to climb up and lay out on my back for him to watch. His dark eyes narrowed, and he dragged his gaze away from my face in favor of letting it linger on the black lace bra I'd worn beneath my dress. Arching my back, I released the snap and shucked it off to throw it at him. "Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to come here?" I challenged him again.
He didn't need more goading. He moved, climbing into the bed slowly like a predator until he settled his weight on top of me. His bare chest touched mine, every inch of glorious skin rubbing against me as his lips found mine, and he made me feel everything.
Like I was everything to him, just like he was to me.
My world narrowed down to the feel of him on top of me, the feel of his mouth against mine. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.
"Lino," I gasped when he pulled away, kissing his way down my neck and adding in a mix of teeth and tongue that made me writhe beneath him. "Please."
"Please what, Little Dove?"
"I want you to touch me," I whispered, and he chuckled against my skin.
"I am touching you," he argued, fingers gripping the sides of my underwear and sliding them down my hips. "I wanted to take it slow, to give you everything before I took you. But you just had to test me, hmm?" he asked, and as soon as I was underwear free, I spread my legs shamelessly.
His hands went to his boxers, shucking them down his legs and fumbling his way out of them. My eyes went to him instantly, unable to believe that somehow he looked just as big without the disguise of fog playing tricks on me. He curved up to his belly, hard and purple. Angry and swollen and desperate looking. I swallowed and bit the inside of my cheek, apprehension suddenly flooding me.
Maybe I wasn't—
Maybe I couldn't.
Shaking my head to clear it, I smiled up at Lino to try and reassure him. To try and reassure myself. He slid between my legs again, leaning over me to press a kiss to my lips. The position put him flush against my center, and the contact knocked all the breath from my lungs.
My body tensed. All arousal fled. Visions of Connor looming above me filled my head, such a vicious cycle of images that I couldn't see the end.
I wanted him off of me. I wanted it away from me. The memory of how much it had hurt, the reminder of the searing pain tearing me apart from the inside out, took over and I shoved at Lino's shoulders until he pulled away to his knees between my legs.
"Shh, Little Dove. It's okay," he soothed, but I curled my legs in on myself and hugged them to my chest. "Samara," he said more sternly. "It's me, vita mia. You're okay."
He didn't touch me, but I could almost feel the way his body coiled, ready to attack and wanting to do whatever he could to help, but the enemy wasn't there. There was nothing he could fight for me, no monster to slay to rescue me.
The only trace of his threat lived on in me. I tugged the sheet out from under me, pulling it to my chest to hide my body in shame. How I'd ever thought I could do this, how I'd ever thought I could push through and have something good; I swore I'd never know.
Good wasn't meant for girls like me.
Damaged.
Lino slid his boxer briefs up his thighs, crawling onto the bed and approaching me like I might break if he touched me. "It's okay. He won't ever hurt you again," he promised.
I huffed a humorless laugh at him, swiping tears from my cheeks angrily. "You're too smart to think that's true. He hurts me every single day. Every time he keeps me from being with you, he sinks his claws back in and—" I cut off. I didn't need to say the words for Lino to know that Connor hurt me by keeping me from Lino. His eyes were knowing as he stared at me. "I'm sorry. I thought I could—"
"Hey, don't you dare. You have nothing to be sorry for, Little Dove," he murmured, drawing my face into his chest and pressing lips to my forehead. "Talk to me. Tell me what scared you."
"I don't want to talk about this with you."
"That's a shame, because it's happening. We need to work through it together, so I can know what will trigger something for you. So what happened? You were okay; you seemed like you wanted me."
"Of course, I wanted you," I argued. "I just—" I paused. "It hurt. When he raped me. It wa
s the worst pain I've ever known. I panicked, because the last time a man was inside me was agonizing. I don't want to live through that again, and I think—I think that's what I associate with sex now," I admitted. "Pain and violation. Humiliation."
"I would never hurt you," Lino whispered, dragging my face up to look at me.
"I know. I know that, I do. It's just there."
"Do you trust me?" he asked, taking the sheet in his hands and guiding it away. I nodded, even as my breath came in sharp pants, and I wanted to hide under the sheet again. When he pushed at my shoulders, gently guiding me onto my back again, the whimper that came from me was pathetic. Especially given that I'd admitted to trusting Lino, to knowing he wouldn't hurt me.
His lips hit the center of my cleavage, kissing and making his way down and over my stomach. When he settled between my legs, with his face hovering just above my core, I felt my eyes widen. "You don't have to do that."
"The last time a man touched you here, he took without giving. Took without your permission. He used you and didn't care that it hurt you or you didn't want it. He hurt you. So for now, I want to remind you that sex can feel good. That it can be amazing when it's with the right person. That it can be everything when it's just you and me in this bed, and to do that I'm going to put my mouth on your pretty little pussy and lick you until you scream my name. Until you'll never forget who is on top of you or inside of you. Until there's no one else but me, vita mia." I stared down at him, watching as he held my eyes and spread my legs wider. His eyes went to my center, heating back up to molten pools of lava while he looked at me. Stroking a finger through my slit, he went slow, hesitant, testing to see if I'd protest the touch.
But nothing about the way he touched me was reminiscent of Connor. There was no roughness, no selfishness. Only a teasing exploration as he used his fingers to spread me open and look up into my eyes as he leaned down and ran his tongue through me. His groan vibrated in my clit, making my back arch off the bed. But I forced it flat quickly, wanting to watch him as he ate me, wanting to see that flawless face buried between my thighs.
Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2) Page 18
