Blood and Secrets 3 (The Calvetti Crime Family)

by Rose Harper

  Luca quirks an eyebrow in question as he watches Dom make his way out onto the veranda where the wedding will commence. Turning his eyes back to me, I simply shake my head as I wrap my arm through his.

  I’m not your average bride. I don’t have a bouquet. I don’t have the veil that covers the entirety of my face. My dress is skintight, leather, and white in color—even if I’m the furthest from pure as anyone can get. But I’m me. Just me. And I’m never changing for anyone else ever again. They can take me how I am, or they can go fuck themselves.

  Making our way through the foyer, we come to a stop just before exiting through the French doors located at the back of the house. Luca turns to me, giving that side-eye of his, but the only thing I can do is nod. I know he’s trying to give me an out. Make it to where I have a different choice in the matter. But that’s something he’s not comprehending at the moment—this is my choice.

  Until death do us part in a river of blood. My choice is to marry Mateo.

  14

  MATEO

  No one else exists. It’s just her and me. Together.

  The midday sun glints off her raven-colored hair, and I’m transfixed at the sight of her. Her body, her soul—her everything. She’s completely and utterly captivated me. And I’ve been a complete and total nervous wreck since we concluded our mid-dinner romp to orchestrate this entire affair. Just the thought of her backing out at the last second caused my anxiety to rise, forcing me to plan it all as fast as possible.

  I nervously straighten my suit as I allow my eyes to drift over her form. My mouth dries at the sight. Gone was the fluffy, ugly-ass traditional wedding gown, and in its place is a mouth-watering scrap of leather I can’t wait to remove with my teeth. It’s glued to her like a second skin, highlighting all her best assets: perky, voluptuous breasts; thick, pray-to-the-gods juicy ass; and legs that are made for pure sin.

  I peer down the makeshift aisle at her, my heart quickening its pace the closer she comes to me. All my men stand at the sidelines, like that of a solid force to be reckoned with. The need to ravage her is fierce, undeterred, but for the life of me, I’ll die before I ruin this for her. I know she didn’t have to marry me, but she agreed anyway. And since we can’t have a regular ceremony, considering the family I’m in, this is the next best thing.

  Her floral fragrance swirls around me as she and Luca come to a stop just next to me. Her eyes meet mine, and what little breath I had in my lungs whooshes out of me when a smile spreads across her angelic face. She doesn’t show that emotion toward any of us all that much, and seeing it is a gift all on its own. It’s breathtaking, marvelous, gut-wrenching—it’s absolute perfection.

  “Who gives this woman to this man?” Father Avery asks

  “That would be me, Father,” Luca says, smirking my direction. It physically hurts to refrain from rolling my eyes at him and his dick answer to Father Avery’s question.

  Handing her over to me, he takes a few steps back, but never strays too far away. Knowing him, he’s given Carina an out—a quick getaway just in case she doesn’t want to go through with this. But, what he doesn’t know is I have something up my sleeve. Raising my attention to all three of my brothers, Giovanni, Lucio, and Gavino, they all fall in step behind Luca, blocking us all in as my men fall in step behind them.

  Luca glances over his shoulder, following my train of sight, before he brings his eyes back to mine, a question burning in his gaze. Smirking, I shrug a shoulder before turning away from them all. Leave now, motherfucker.

  Father Avery is all smiles as he glances between the both of us. He briefly glances at Carina’s dress, and although his smile falls marginally, he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he starts the ceremony.

  We’re all staring at him in rapt attention as he goes through the beginning prayers. Carina only fidgets for just a moment, probably the “God” ordeal getting to her. Still, that doesn’t persuade her to leave my side. Instead, that causes her arm to wrap through mine tighter.

  When we get to the good part, Father Avery glances toward me, his eyes alight with barely controlled happiness. “Repeat after …”

  “I’d like for us to recite our own vows, if you don’t mind.” Carina’s eyes snap up to mine, questions swirling in her gaze. But I don’t answer any of them, I merely turn her toward me. This is the closest I will ever get to tell her how I feel and not have her balk. And she deserves to hear it.

  “Carina …” I say, staring into her mesmerizing eyes. “What we have isn’t conventional. It’s not love, desire, or lust that has me standing here today. It’s more than that. We’re two broken souls, finding the pieces to mend us back together within each other. I take you as my wife, my sole companion—my queen. I promise to protect you, fight for you—to give you all that I am until the last breath leaves my body. In sickness, you’re the cure I will seek. In health, you’re the light I will follow. For the rest of my life, I will honor you with all that I am.”

  Her eyes glisten with tears as she shoots a scathing look my way. She’s silently flaying me alive for causing this bout of emotions to slip through her ironclad control, but I can’t be bothered. I like seeing her lose control. It’s when she’s at her realest.

  “Mateo …” The catch in her breath leads me to believe this means more to her than she’s letting on. That she’s just as lost as I am, but she refuses to admit it. “I never imagined this could happen to someone like me. To stand here, tying myself to you for the rest of my life. I was shattered, and you meticulously pieced me back together. You made me feel, even when I didn’t know that’s what I needed. You are the savior every fairy tale has been mimicked after. It’s not love, desire, or lust making me stand here today—it’s you. With your gigantic heart and fierce, unyielding loyalty, I take you as my husband, my one, true companion—my king. In sickness, you are the cure I will seek. In health, you are the light I will follow. For the rest of my life, I will honor you with all that I am, and kill anyone who thinks to hurt you.”

  Only my woman would put the word “kill” in her vows. If her earlier words didn’t solidify that we were doing the right thing, that just did. She doesn’t give a flying fuck what people think of her, which is what I like most about her. She is simply her. Faults and all.

  And now … she’s mine.

  “What shall I do with you now?” I query, shutting the bedroom door with a soft click. Her body voluntarily shivers at my words, already knowing just what I’m about to do.

  I’m going to devour every goddamn inch of her.

  My wife.

  Walking toward her, I press the entire length of my body against her back, wrapping my arm around her to rest low over her stomach. Running my other hand up her stomach, grazing the side of her breast, I weave my hands through her thick, soft hair and move it to the side, exposing her pale, slender throat to my hungry gaze.

  Dipping down, my tongue slides across her creamy skin. Her breathing picks up as I pull her harder into me, grinding my already throbbing cock against her ass. The coarseness of my pants grate against the underside of my cock, giving me just enough stimulation to piss me off. No matter how good it feels to softly rock against her, I’m craving the satiny walls of her pussy more.

  I nip her neck.

  Lick the erogenous zone behind her ear.

  Take the shell of her ear into my mouth, sucking hard, then gently nipping it with my teeth.

  A choked gasp leaves her as she sways in my arms, her hands flying to my arm, nails digging in.

  Releasing her ear, I huskily murmur, “Do you have any idea the things you do to me?”

  Her soft, delicious whimper reaches my ears, causing a growl to work its way up my chest. I work my free hand lower and ghost it across her leather-covered mound. Her hips surge forward, yearning for more of my skillful touch. Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.

  Retracting my hands, I step away from her. Caressing every part of her hips, ribs, and thighs, I bring my fingers up to the zip
per that holds her body from my viewing pleasure. Lowering it, saliva pools in my mouth as inch upon delectable inch of smooth, creamy skin is revealed. She really has no idea how beautiful she is. The curvature of her slim neck and the gracefulness of her sharp shoulder blades unmarred of any deformity.

  Her shivers abruptly ramp up, her body quaking. My cock throbs. I only intended to tease her, make her so ready for me, she begs—but I can’t refrain from having her any longer. The itch is too prominent not to scratch.

  Pulling the dress down around her mid-arms, I pull it tight behind her, effectively trapping her arms. Using my weight, I walk her over to the bed. My hold strong-arms her into lying flat on her stomach as I drag her arms and pin them at the small of her back. Fumbling for my zipper, I can’t stop the smile that blooms across my face. Even when I want to take things slow, she can do the simplest of things that drives me insane.

  “I’ll go slow next time, but now …” I say, allowing my cock to spring from my pants, “that cunt needs to be squeezing my dick.”

  I look down, thanking God above the creator of this dress put that goddamn slit in it. Kicking her legs apart, I give her no warning as I line up with her entrance. Wetting the head of my shaft with the wetness gathered at the apex of her thighs, my mouth falls open, my head falls back on my shoulders, and I slowly sink all the way until I bottom out.

  “Mmmm,” she moans, pressing her face into the mattress, already gyrating her hips back to meet mine.

  “Goddamn,” I groan, drawing out the word. “Your pussy is my kryptonite.”

  I don’t know where this woman came from, but I’m glad I happened upon her. Because if it’s one thing I know, she was made for me.

  She’s my own version of heaven in this hell I call my life.

  15

  CARINA

  Sweating, I gulp down air thick with the smell of sex. My body trembles, readying for release, as I arch my back to offer more of my ass, my face pressing into the mattress. Mateo’s hot, muscular weight covers me, his hard grip clinging to my hip with bruising force. He pulls me back toward him with each forceful thrust, the slapping of our skin the only melody in this erotic dance between the two of us.

  His pleasure is merciless. The angle lets him pound deep inside me and he knows exactly where to aim, his cock striking directly against that ball of pleasure inside of me hard and fast, delivering jolt after jolt of white heat through my entire body. The pleasure—it’s almost too intense. I can feel a cataclysmic climax building, the tension gradually winding tighter, stealing my breath and filling my veins with liquid fire.

  My knees buckle, but his grip on me holds me up as he delves out punishing thrust after punishing thrust, completely and totally wrecking every facet of my being.

  “Let go, kitty,” he grunts, smacking my ass. “Give it up, baby. Oh, fuck, yes!”

  My body seizes control and it’s unashamedly greedy, taking everything he has to offer me. I struggle to speak, to relay the feelings coursing through me.

  Lifting my head, I scream, “Don’t … stop! Fuck yes, pound that pussy!”

  I hear him curse behind me, his hand falling away from my arms as his fingers weave through my hair. Pulling me back against him, the angle contorts me, but feels heavenly. Pressing his lips against my ear, he growls—his tone low and deadly, “Who does this pussy belong to?”

  “You,” I gasp, writhing in sweet, sweet ecstasy.

  “Who owns every goddamn orgasm?!” he bellows, stopping to grind his member into me.

  “Y-You do!”

  My toes curl. My hands claw at the sheets. I barely process he’s saying anything at all, the impending ecstasy dominating my awareness. I cry out, feeling as if the thread has frayed at the seams. All my muscles lock so hard, I quake—trembling from the forcefulness of it.

  The incredible sensations keep swamping me, coming in wave after wave of overwhelming bliss. He keeps fucking me through my orgasm, letting me squeeze out every drop of him as the muscles of his thighs stiffen and his cock jerks with his release—powerful, hot cum spurts stream after stream inside of me.

  My vision blurs. My legs tremble harshly. And I fall against the side of the bed, a sated smile washing over my face.

  Sex has never been like this. I don’t have much to go on, but I know it’s different with Mateo. Every time we’re together, it feels like our very souls are connecting. Like they’re just as needy when it comes to the connection as we are.

  It’s heady.

  Amazing.

  Completely prayer worthy.

  Still dazed, I feel Mateo pull away from me. When his cock slides out, his essence begins sliding down the inside of my leg. It should disgust me, ick me out, but it doesn’t. It only has my smile notching that much wider. The fact that put together Mateo can lose himself is practically orgasmic on its own.

  However, all good things always come to an end. And that comes with the sound of a phone ringing from the pocket of his pants. When his weight leaves me, I don’t wait to stand up and turn around, caring less about my nakedness and more about who would impede on this time that’s so precious. It infuriates me—causing my anger to completely engulf me.

  “Are you going to answer that?” I grind out, not even trying to hide the anger in my voice.

  Mateo looks torn between what to do, which pisses me off even more. This one night he couldn’t even take off. He couldn’t give us this time to become acquainted as husband and wife before going right back to work.

  “You know I have to, Carina.”

  “No.” I shake my head, peeling my dress from my body as I slip out of my heels more irately than normal. “You don’t. You just choose to do this shit.”

  “I’m the leader of this family,” he growls. “You also knew that when you practically begged me to marry you when you were bouncing on my cock.”

  Growling, I narrow my eyes at him, then do something I never have before: I walk away from him. I turn my back on him faster than shit and go to the bathroom. I expect him to follow me, like all those other couples on the television, but he doesn’t. It isn’t until I slam the door that I hear him answering the phone.

  My anger runs full tilt, and I peer at myself in the mirror, seeing the wildness in my eyes. A moment later, I hear Mateo knocking on the door. Motherfucker must clearly want punched in the fucking face.

  Everything was so perfect until that phone call. It was just us, this moment. He wasn’t the leader of this family and I wasn’t the cold-blooded killer I’d been trained to be. We were two people—normal people with normal fucking needs and desires. But then reality had to wiggle its way back in.

  “I’m going to step out. Have to take care of business. I’ll be back in a little while,” he says through the door.

  Just the tone of his voice and what he says is my undoing. Rearing my fist back, I slam it into my reflection, watching the mirror break into a thousand tiny pieces. It resembles the cracks and shattered pieces of what semblance of a heart I have thudding in my chest.

  On our wedding day—of all days—he’s going to go out and take care of business.

  Fuck no, he isn’t.

  I’ll be goddammed if he goes anywhere without me. I don’t give a shit if I do carry his name now. I’m still the Reap. My job—besides being his wife, love, and companion—is ultimately his protector.

  Pushing off the sink, I clench my hands to make the ache from punching the mirror go away. Warm liquid oozes out of the wounds, making a steady stream downward, where the droplets fall off onto the floor. My anger is completely consuming me right now, and the very cause is the man on the other side of the door.

  Jerking it open, his eyes widen as he takes me in, then they flick down to my hand that continues to bleed onto his pristine floor. Do I give a shit? Hell no. He caused this. And he practically said for better or worse in the vows, so he’s stuck with my ass.

  “If you think you’re going anywhere without me, I’m going to fuck your shit up!” I fi
nish with a yell, the vibrations grating against my voice box.

  “I didn’t ask for your goddamn permission!” he rages, stalking toward me. “If I wanted your two cents, I’d ask for it. I have shit I need to deal with. Time sensitive shit. And you will stay here, where its safe, with Liam and Jake watching over you.”

  “No, I won’t!” I challenge, spitting fire back toward him.

  How can a day meant for happiness and joy get so twisted? It’s as if life is laughing at me, giving me one thing, then taking it away again just as fast. We were happy just a few moments ago, sharing something so special it nearly caused my dark heart to skip with happiness. Now, we’re at each other’s throats. And it’s all because he’s a condescending jackass.

  A sharp knock at the door booms through the room before it’s quickly opened, the person never once asking to come into our space. They stand there, door open, waiting for their boss to relent and go with them. I see the pleading in Mateo’s eyes, but it does nothing to stop the tumultuous emotions from blazing through me.

  “If you walk out that door without me, I swear to God …”

  Stepping into me, he presses me back against the counter, eyes narrowing on mine. “You’ll what?” he interrupts. “Kill everyone? Your threats are getting old, my dear. I’m asking—which is something I don’t usually do, but I took your thoughts into consideration—for you to wait for me for a couple hours. When I get back, you can have me for as long as you want.”

  His promise does nothing to placate me. The fact is, I don’t want him leaving the house without me, period. Point blank. He knows this. I know this. Every goddamn person in this motherfucking house knows this.

  “I am going.”

  “No. You’re not.” Placing his hands on the counter by my sides, he glares down at me from his towering height. “Don’t make me tie you up, because I will. Stay here. Stay safe. And I’ll be back in a couple of goddamn hours. Your place is here, and you would only be a distraction if you came with me.”