Blood and Secrets 3 (The Calvetti Crime Family)

by Rose Harper

  Out of reflex, I pull away from him, but he doesn’t allow me to get too far. Instead, he steps right into me, almost as if he’s challenging me while giving me the entire world at the same time. He really has no idea what he does to women. How he can set them ablaze with the barest of looks, all the while he’s light-years away from the here and now.

  Reaching behind me, he releases the clasp of my bra with a flick of his fingers—his eyes never leaving mind. His fingers never once gracing my skin.

  With a roll of my shoulders, the material falls away, leaving me standing in just a pair of flimsy, saturated panties. Every ounce of his dominance is turning me on more than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  “I’m going to take my time with you tonight. Touch, lick, and fuck you everywhere. Bury myself inside you so deep, so thoroughly, you won’t know where you end and I begin. You said it yourself, Carina,” he whispers, leaning so close our lips ghost along each other’s. “I’m yours … but now you’re going to know what it feels like to be mine.”

  12

  MATEO

  This woman completes me in every fucking way imaginable. When coming to this dinner tonight, I didn’t expect anything that fell from her luscious lips. Hell, she stunned me stupid when she said what she did to the priest. It took a nudge from my brother under the table to finally bounce back to reality.

  She doesn’t have to submit to me in this way—in a way no Reap ever has before. Yes, Daniel was married to that bitch, but this is different. Daniel made the decision to enter into that marriage. Carina has all but been forced to enter into this, and until we came to an agreement, I wasn’t going to do that to her. So much had already happened that there was no way I could take that away from her, too.

  Only, I didn’t have to take it. She gave it to me freely.

  A bastard.

  An asshole.

  A person who doesn’t deserve anything from her.

  And she did all this to appease Father Avery. To show him and the papa that I’m not a pathetic fuck up.

  She’s the strongest, fiercest woman I’ve ever known, and I’m going to enjoy bringing her to her knees.

  “Undress me,” I say, watching that fissure of naughtiness brighten her beautiful hazel eyes.

  Never taking her eyes off mine, she unwraps me like I’m a birthday present she’s waited for her entire life. Also, like that birthday present, she takes her time at first—removing my shirt slowly, going painstakingly slow as she undoes every single button. My entire body heats, burning hotter and hotter every second her hands are on me but not where I want them to be.

  My muscles flex as she pushes the shirt from my shoulders, allowing it to fall on the chair behind me. I nearly growl as her nails lightly rake against my chest, her fingers trekking down to the waistband of my dress pants. I start slipping my shoes off, kicking them to the side, as the clang of my belt reaches my ears.

  Leaning toward her, I press my face into the side of her neck, experimentally darting my tongue out to run it across the column of her neck. She sways into me more, her whimper exciting me further. “Running out of time, kitty. You better hurry before I grow impatient.”

  My mouth waters as the scent of her arousal teases my senses. I’d bet anything if I were to delve my way into those hot-as-sin panties she’d be gushing for me.

  Her fingers explore. Her mouth teases across the flesh of my chest. It’s almost too much to take in. The sights, sounds, and feel of her pressed against me. My impatience soon wins out over my need to take things slow. As she unbuckles my pants, allowing them to fall down to the floor at my feet, I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her to me.

  Heat.

  Lips.

  Tongue.

  Hands.

  Moans.

  Every part of me feels her touch as if I’m one with her. In the way she caresses. Kisses. Possesses. Worships every fucking inch made available to her eyes and her eyes only. Reaching behind her, I wrap my hands around her thighs, lifting her. Our tongues duel. Our heartbeats quicken. Her legs wrap around my waist, anchoring her to me.

  Taking a hand, I rake it across the top of the table, sending dinnerware crashing down to the floor. Their demise is met on deaf ears as I pay attention to the only thing that’s important: taking Carina to a height of pleasure neither one of us has ever been to before.

  Laying her down on the table, I divest myself of the rest of my clothing and swiftly crawl on top of her. Her chest is rising and falling fast, but she never lets up in her assault as I take her mouth once more. Already jonesing for another taste of her.

  I’m feral. Hungry. Needing her to begin and end with only me.

  Weaving my fingers into her hair, I wrap my other arm around her, settling her onto my lap as I continue to tongue fuck her mouth to oblivion.

  Then, finally, I feel her wetness against the tip of my engorged shaft. The warmth coming from her is enough to cause my breath to catch in my chest. I need to feel her walls wrap around my cock like a silk glove, milking me of everything.

  Lining my cock up with her entrance, I don’t even take the time to ask whether she wants me to wear protection, because it’s a moot point. She’s mine; I’m hers—and we’re about to become one.

  No condom. No barrier. Nothing that will distract me from the heat that’s rightfully mine.

  Sliding into her, skin on skin, she groans into my mouth as I stretch her past comfort. I’ve always been above average in the cock department, and until Carina, I’ve never found a woman as perfect as her who could take all of me. Thank fuck, because I know this isn’t going to be easy, no matter how many times I try to tell myself I want to go that route.

  Stretching her until I’m buried deep inside her, feeling the top of her pussy press against my hips, is the first we break our kiss to come up for air. Fire ignites all around us, burning its blazing brightness for all to see.

  Delivering a swivel of my hips, I watch her eyes close in coital bliss. Her arms wrap around me as her legs wrap around my waist. Her breasts sway and bounce from each thrust. Seeing those rose-colored buds is too much of a temptation to withstand. Bringing her closer, I close my lips around her taut nub, raking my tongue across it at the same time I hollow my cheeks, sucking.

  “Fuck!” she cries out, her head falling back on her shoulders.

  She continues saying that word over and over, as if it’s her new mantra she wishes to live by the rest of her life. It excites me, causes me to push faster and faster until the sounds of our skin slapping against each other reverberate off the walls.

  “Say it,” I growl, breaking away from her nipple.

  Feeling my way down her body, I rest my hands on her hips, gripping tightly. I pull her against me at the same time I thrust upward, my forceful drive garnering a scream of euphoric bliss to fall from her sweet lips.

  Wrapping herself around me, she clings with everything she has, pressing her face into the crook of my neck. Placing soft, teasingly light kisses to the side of my neckline, my eyes briefly close from the deliciousness of it.

  Her soft to my hard. Her strength to my weakness. Her pleasure drawing out all of my pain.

  This woman completes me in every fucked-up way imaginable.

  “I’ll marry you,” her sex fueled voice whispers in my ear. “As long as you promise this, every day, for the rest of my life, I’ll do anything.”

  13

  CARINA

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror, my lips curl up in disgust. The fuck were they thinking putting me in something like this? Seriously? I’m nowhere close to being innocent. Any modicum of purity inside of me has been beaten down, almost to the point of nothing.

  Yet, I’m in a white fucking dress.

  A fluffy wedding dress.

  With frills, lace, tulle, and about a thousand pounds of mesh I don’t fucking need.

  Jesus Christ. Why can’t I just get married in my regular clothes? You know, the ones that were already here when I w
oke up in Mateo’s house that first time? I don’t need all this extra crap. Hell, I’m already a ball of nerves as is. Adding all this extra stuff is just a means to freak me out even more.

  Grabbing a handful of gaudiness that deserves to see the better part of a flame, I fluff it outward. Nope, still hate it. I turn from side to side, loving that it fits me to perfection along the curvature of my body, but hating the fact that it doesn’t fit me as a person. If I’m going to get married—which I’m still on the fence about—then I may as well have the right to wear what I want.

  A goddamn tank, leather fucking pants, and my shitkickers.

  Sighing, I turn away from the mirror and make my way across Mateo’s bedroom. My mind is a mess of jumbled thoughts, but the only thing it can land on is the fact I’m about to get married. Something that both Mateo and I said we wouldn’t succumb to because my secret was already out.

  After our little tête-à-tête in the kitchen, everything started happening at breakneck speeds. We had the priest, groom, bride, and witnesses already here. The marriage certificate was here within the hour after Mateo left me in the dining room. The rings were delivered from the familia vault, and a damn catering staff was called in by Dom.

  And, I did nothing. I stood there as lost as a lamb being led to slaughter, with frightened, wide eyes, and a pensive smile resting on my face.

  Until Gavino, Lucio, and Giovanni gave me this. Then I went from being frightened to disgusted. Pure, gag-worthy disgust.

  I fucking hate dresses. Hate them.

  The only reason I wore that goddamn sundress is because I had lost my ever-loving mind. And even then, I knew it didn’t feel right. A dress isn’t practical. You can’t fight in it without showing your pussy. You can’t run when you need to get away. You’re stuck. Under what seems to be hundreds of pounds of frilly garments, you’re stuck—left for people to protect you.

  Hell no. Not today.

  I can’t do this if Mateo expects me to wear this. When I told him I’d marry him, it was to make the damn priest shut his gob. When I agreed again, his dick was inside of me—so, in retrospect—he fooled me into submitting … for the second time. He used the dirtiest, oldest trick in the book.

  The power of the dick.

  Hearing the doorknob turn, I never break my gaze as I continue to stare out at the gardens. There’s no more snow, which was so beautiful and majestic. It’s now the phase between winter and the first throes of spring. The ground is mushy, wet, and muddy. The air holds just the tinges of winter as it makes the transformation into spring.

  It isn’t the best sight to see, but it’s a lot better than the four walls I was used to. The sights, sounds, and smells are all a welcome distraction as I push the window open. My gaze automatically scans the countryside for any hidden threat. When I don’t find anything, my attention starts drifting over the richness of the outside world at leisure.

  “Are you ready?” It’s Dom. I should have known no one was man enough to come up here to retrieve me. Probably because I’d deball them for making me wear this piece of shit, traditional garbage.

  There’s nothing traditional about Mateo and me. We’re not even normal.

  “Who picked this dress out?” I ask, huffing.

  Choking on a laugh, he replies, “The priest.”

  Turning toward him—it takes me about a million years before I can twist properly to face him—I know I look like an idiot as his eyes practically bug out of his head.

  “I’m going to kill him,” I deadpan, blinking slowly. “You better not tell Mateo, either. Because if he tries to stop me, I’ll gut him before we can consummate this catastrophe.”

  “It’s just a dress.” His hands stay behind his back, appearing as put together as he can in his best suit. It’s a three-piece, tailored to fit him, black on black with a bright red tie as a garnish. It looks freshly pressed, and couple that with his smooth appearance, he looks like a devil who fits right in.

  “You’re just a dick,” I fire back. “If I’m going to get married, I want to be the person walking down the aisle, not this fabricated version of me.”

  Chortling, he pulls something from behind his back. With any other person, I would be up close and personal with them within the span of mere seconds. But since I’m in this … monstrosity, I can barely move, let alone take him out if he were a threat. At this moment, I’m glad he’s on our side, because I’d hate to make a fool out of myself when I’m supposed to be the epitome of put together.

  A thin, square box rests in his shaking hands. White, see-through mesh ribbon decorating the top in a heavy taffeta weave. Its transparency is breathtaking; almost too pretty to look away from, using a heavy weft that showcases the distinct transverse ribs.

  “What is this?” Making my way closer, I don’t groan as loudly from the weight of the dress as all my attention has shifted to the—present?—Dom is holding out to me.

  “I knew you wouldn’t like the dress, kitty. It’s just not … you.” His timid smile causes my own to stretch across my face as I take the box from his outstretched hands.

  Taking it to the bed, I carefully unwrap the delicate artwork. Upon opening the box, I can’t help the gasp that leaves me as a stray tear builds in my eye.

  “Dom,” I release on a whisper. “It’s beautiful.”

  Damn, I hate anything girly, but this I can roll with.

  Lifting the white leather from its silk encasing, I bring it out in front of me. Just the sight of the dress causes a little flutter inside my chest. At least I have one person here who gets me. Dom knows I’m not the conventional type. I’m simply me. Unapologetically so.

  The leather feels like butter as I run my fingers across the fabric. It’s rather risqué to wear to a wedding, but it suits me just fine. A sexy slit runs up the back, making it easy if I need to go on the defensive. It’s backless, held up by a pair of thin spaghetti straps and wired cups for my breasts. White in color, so it goes with the theme. It’s drop-dead gorgeous.

  “I’ll be right back!” I call out, already making my way to the closet.

  I practically rip off the dress I’m wearing. Then I easily slip the leather one on. It’s skintight, hugging every curve to perfection and displaying my ample breasts. The slim fit narrows before getting to my knees, but the slit in the back gives me a little wiggle room if I need it.

  Stepping out of the closet, I ignore Dom’s choked breath as I head toward the full-length ornamental mirror. Upon seeing my reflection, I can’t stop the bubble of happiness from buzzing through me. I turn from side to side, seeing my apple bottom butt and my long, toned legs highlighted to perfection.

  “It’s perfect!” I squeal. I try hating myself for the girlish tendency, but it’s lost on me.

  Facing Dom once more, my smile becomes more of a smirk when I see where his eyes just were. Men. They always look at the ass, tits, or puss of a woman. It never fails.

  “You’re going to slay him,” he whispers huskily.

  “Don’t you know it,” I reply, slipping on the heels at the end of the bed. I don’t mind wearing the offending deathtraps if I’m in a dress like this. “Let’s get going.”

  “After you,” he replies, pulling open the door and holding a hand out in front of him.

  Making my way toward him, I come to a stop by the opening of the door. My eyes search his, seeing the contentedness resting just within his crystal blues.

  “Mateo is lucky to have someone like you. I’m glad I don’t have to kill you.”

  Releasing a burst of laughter, he responds, “I’m glad, too, kitty.”

  When I go to step past him, a warm hand on the top of my shoulder stops me. Turning toward him, I stare up at him in confusion, noting the change that has overtaken his face. Where his eyes were light and cheerful a few moments ago, they’re now dark and murderous. His stance isn’t relaxed, but stiff and unapproachable. I go to ask him what’s with the change, but he beats me to it, his words silencing me.

  “I
f you hurt him, I don’t care who you are, what you do, or where you come from—you will have to deal with me. And trust me, kitty—you may think that Mateo is the devil in disguise, but I can assure you that I am what makes him cower in fear. Mateo doesn’t even know who I truly am. He only knows what I allow him to see. But I’m telling you because you will tread carefully around him. If this marriage doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. However, if you intentionally hurt him, for any reason, I’ll have no problem picking my teeth with your bones. Got it?”

  Nodding briefly, I give him a smile as if he had just told me I looked sexy, instead of issuing an imminent death threat. “Seems like we’re on the same page.”

  His hard, unforgiving eyes glare down into mine before he shuffles me out the door. We make our way through the hallway, me teetering on my heels and him wearing that pensive look. Reaching the top of the stairs, I look down below and the first thing I see is Luca waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He’s standing silently still, with his hands clasped in front of him. The moment he sees me, his eyes light up with warmth, but when he gets a look at what I’m wearing, his lips tug into a smirk.

  He’s looking dapper in a tailored suit, with an emerald tie that matches our similar eyes. He must have borrowed one of Mateo’s suits, being that he’s around the same size and build. It fits him to perfection. His gentleman haircut is slicked back on top of his head, and the once scruffiness of his face is now shaven clean.

  “Never thought I’d see the day,” he taunts.

  Rolling my eyes, Dom helps me down the stairs, so I don’t kill myself in these heels. And when we come to a stop at the bottom, Luca simply starts shaking his head back and forth.

  “What?” I ask, glancing down at my body. It’s not your wedding appropriate attire, but I still like it.

  “You’re nothing but trouble, princess.”

  “Ain’t that the goddamn truth,” Dom whispers, making his way past us.