Becoming the Hitman (Zanetti Famiglia Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Tomorrow morning, my office,” he calls out.

  “Yeah, Boss.”

  Paul eases the car back into traffic and I watch them for a moment before I turn to Siobahn. Picking up her bag, I grin at her.

  “You ready?” I ask.

  She tilts her head back, then looks at me, her eyes wide. “You live here?” she asks.

  I hum, jerking my chin and start to walk toward the door. “Get in my pocket, grab my key card?” I ask.

  Grinning, I glance down as I watch her trembling hand reach into my front pocket. I can’t stop my cock from growing hard at the way she shifts her fingers around before she grasps the key card and brings it out.

  Jerking my chin toward the small panel, I instruct her on what to do next. She does it, and then tugs the door open for me to pass through, then follows behind. It doesn’t take us long to grab an empty elevator car and climb to the twelfth floor.

  “This is beautiful,” she exhales.

  The elevator car opens and I jerk my chin in the direction of my place… no, our place. It is ours now. As much hers as it is mine. She’s mine now, and soon she’ll be carrying my baby if she isn’t already.

  I have to tie her to me.

  I have to or she’s going to fucking run as soon as she finds out the truth.

  Once I have the door open, I step inside to allow her in. She brushes past me, then stops when she’s just a few feet past the entrance. Closing the door behind me, I set the bags down and lock it.

  “It’s,” she begins, then takes a step farther into the room. “It’s stunning.”

  I don’t have an opportunity to say even a word before she sprints forward and runs toward the large windows that line the living room and dining room wall. She gasps, then spins around and watches me from across the room.

  Without moving, I just wait for her to say or do something. I can practically see the wheels turning inside of her head. They’re spinning as she watches me.

  “This is where you live, truthfully?” she asks.

  Nodding my head slowly, I let out a chuckle. “This is where we live, cuoricino.”

  “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. I can’t, I simply just can’t live here, Renzo.”

  Tilting my head to the side, my brows snap together as I watch her. “And why is that?” I demand, the words coming out harsher than I mean for them to.

  She takes a step toward me, then another, and another until she’s directly in front of me. I watch as she tilts her head back, her gaze finding mine and holding it. I wish I could guess what she was thinking behind those big blue eyes, but I can’t, not yet at least.

  “It’s too much. All of this is too much. A possible salon and then all of this. How can you just allow me to live here? There must be more to all of this. I’m afraid that this isn’t an even trade. I’m afraid that there is something else I’m missing.”

  If I wanted to, I could take offense at her words, to her insinuation. But I don’t. She doesn’t mean them the way they’ve come out. She is being genuine and she doesn’t have the confidence that she should. She will though, eventually, she’ll see that she’s worth so much more than she thinks that she is.

  Lifting my hand, I slide it around the back of her neck, tangling my fingers in her hair at the nape. I don’t pull or tug on her, instead, I just look into her eyes, taking in her raw beauty. Smiling at her, I tilt my head to the side.

  “You are everything, Siobahn. What you’re going to give me will mean so much more than a place to live and some monetary things. You’re going to give me a family, you’re giving me everything, cuoricino. Don’t you see that?”

  She gulps, her gaze shifting to the side, then back to mine. “A family?” she whispers.

  I hum, dipping my chin and touching my mouth to hers. “A family. Babies, a life. I’ve never wanted those with anyone else. I want them with you.”

  I don’t allow her to say anything else, slipping my tongue into her mouth, I taste her. Then, I show her exactly what I want from her.

  Call me an asshole, call me whatever the fuck you want. It doesn’t matter. I want this from her and she’s going to give it to me, not just for a place to live and some cash, but because she wants to.

  We’re both tired, exhausted, and hungry. I’m hungry for so much, not just food, but her too. This morning, in the shower, I was gentle and easy.

  I was working through my shit with news that I’d just discovered. This morning was about nothing other than grief, worry, and reassurance, even if she didn’t know it, I did.

  Now, this is about something else, something different. This is about making her mine and only mine, in Brooklyn, and in my home. This is about starting a life together, our life. This is about the future, about planting that future inside of her. About making it to where she can’t leave me.

  Not ever.

  Maybe I’m more like my father than I ever thought. That idea alone makes me sick to my stomach. He is the absolute last person I ever want to be like and yet here I am and there’s nothing that I can do to stop it. And I don’t want to.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask against her lips.

  “I need you,” she breathes.

  Smiling, I nip her bottom lip with my teeth and slowly lift my head to look into her eyes. “Your body. How do you feel?” I ask. “It was a long flight and you were in the same position for hours. You have to be sore.”

  She presses her lips together, then releases them with a smile. “Do you have a tub?”

  “Do we have a tub?” I ask, repeating her words, but changing them slightly.

  She lets out a small laugh. “Do we have a tub?” she clarifies.

  Releasing the back of her hair, I trail my fingers down her spine, stopping at the waistband of her pants with a hum.

  “We do, cuoricino,” I rasp.

  Her hands press against my chest before she slides them up, then wraps them around my neck, her gaze never leaving my own.

  “I’ll soak afterward then,” she whispers. “But please, Renzo. I need you. I need to feel all of you. This morning was nice…”

  “But it wasn’t enough?” I chance asking.

  “Nowhere near.”

  Something inside of me snaps. That thin piece of my control that I had been holding on to, it shreds in an instant. I don’t bother even taking her to the bedroom. Bending slightly, I grab ahold of her ass with both hands and pick her up.

  Walking her over to the windows, I grin. She loves the view so much, she’ll be looking right at it as I take her, as I fuck her until she’s screaming. Just the way it was always meant to be. The two of us, me inside of her, filling her, stretching her until she cries out in pleasured pain. There is nobody else.

  Just her. Just me.

  Just us.

  SIOBAHN

  My body is still a little bit sore from my father’s fists, but none of that matters, not right now. Not when I know that I’m going to get Renzo just the way that I like him, just the way that I need him. When he loses control, when he’s a little rough, it’s exactly what I crave from him.

  I need the orgasms, I need the rush, I need it all.

  He presses my back against the cool glass of the window and a chill runs through my body, but not because I’m cold, because it’s daylight, there are people below and across from us. This is illicit and naughty and I want it all, every single second of it.

  Renzo’s mouth travels down my throat, stopping just at the hollow before I feel his tongue lick, then he sucks me there. Trembling in his arms, he slowly lowers me to my feet. Without a word, he starts to strip my clothes off of me.

  I’m too frozen, too mesmerized by him to do anything, but allow him to strip me bare. He’s on one knee in front of me, his head tipped backward, his face focused on mine and his lips curved up into a cheeky grin.

  “Beautiful,” he rasps.

  I don’t deny his words. I know for a fact that I am indeed not beautiful. I’m ten different shades of iv
ory, green, yellow, and purple, but I can’t deny that he makes me feel just as pretty as he says.

  There is something about him, about the way he looks at me that makes me feel as though I’m the prettiest woman in the world, at least when he’s staring up at me like this. His hand wraps around the inside of my ankle, then slowly slides up my thigh until he reaches my center.

  “Spread,” he demands softly.

  I do, immediately. His fingers begin to gently glide through my center, lightly brushing my clit with each stroke. My eyes flutter closed and my head falls back against the glass with a thud as my hips begin to roll and buck against his fingers.

  “Renzo,” I breathe. He’s too good, his fingers too expert as they play me in just the perfect way, the way that is going to make me come far too soon.

  He chuckles, but doesn’t stop the movement. Slowly, he rises, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip before he sucks it in deep and nips me. Reaching between us, I bravely cup him, feeling his length over the top of his slacks before I gently squeeze.

  Renzo moans, his nose sliding along mine before his lips brush the apple of my cheek, then rest against my ear. He reaches down, wrapping his fingers around the back of my knee, lifting and spreading me wide for him.

  “Release me, cuoricino,” he whispers against my ear.

  I do, eagerly. I quickly unbuckle, unhook, unzip, and push down his pants and underwear. Before he can say anything else, I wrap my hand around his length and begin to stroke him. His fingers continue their precise movements, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, at the same time I attempt to do the same to him.

  He pulls his hips backward with a hiss and lifts his head, shaking it from side to side as he makes a tsking sound. “You first.”

  “Renzo,” I snap, lifting my head to look at him. His lips are curved up and he chuckles softly. “I want you.”

  He hums. “Want. That’s one thing, need is another.”

  “Fine,” I groan. “I need you.”

  He doesn’t respond to me, he also doesn’t give me what I want. Instead, he continues. It’s so good and yet, so not enough and not what I want. His grip on the back of my knee is firm, pushing me against the window, stretching my body in a way that makes my thigh ache, but I’m not interested in aching thighs, I want other things to ache, so many other things.

  Renzo’s fingers move faster, as he applies more pressure, and it doesn’t take long. My hips start to move on their own, searching for more, searching, searching, searching, until my entire body starts to tremble and shake.

  It happens.

  It’s a rush that flows through me as I cry out loudly and come. He chuckles, his chin dipped as he watches. I should feel embarrassed, my cheeks should be hot, but they’re not.

  Instead of being embarrassed, I want nothing more than to climb him and ride until we both come, me a second time and him the first.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, and then it finally happens.

  He fills me in one swift move, burying himself deep, stretching me. Lifting my hands, I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into his flesh as I let out a long exhale of relief mixed with a slight whimper of pain all at the same time.

  Renzo leans forward, his lips touching mine in a gentle kiss. His hips start to move, but unlike his kiss, he is not gentle. Thankfully, he thrusts inside of me unrelentingly, hard and unyielding. I need this. I need him like this just as much as he needs to be with me the same way.

  Then, he slams inside of me and I expect him to pull out, but he doesn’t, instead, he lifts his head, his eyes find mine and he grins.

  “Welcome home, cuoricino.”

  Gone is that apprehension that I felt, it’s all but melted away by his grin. By the way his amber gaze sparkles just enough. Moving one of my hands, I wrap my fingers around the side of his throat, my gaze searching his.

  “Feels good,” I whisper.

  He chuckles. “Fuck yeah, it does.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  SIOBAHN

  It feels like just a few moments later that I open my eyes and sit up, confused at where I am. Then it hits me. I remember the private plane, meeting Renzo’s boss, then walking into his home.

  He fucked me with my back against the window. After I came a second time, he pulled out, spun me around and fucked me from behind. He pushed my breasts against the cold glass as he pounded into me, my ass shaking with each thrust, each time his hips would slam against it.

  Then we took a bath—together while we waited for takeout. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything quite like it, and slipping my hand between my legs, I sigh at the tenderness there. Renzo makes me feel everything, times a million.

  Rolling over, I reach out for him, but the bed is empty and the sheets are cold. Sliding out of bed, I rummage around on the floor until I find his white button-up shirt from earlier. Fastening the middle three buttons, I go in search of him.

  Listening, I wait to see if I can hear his voice in the condo. I don’t. Everything is still and quiet. The main room is dark and cold. I feel a slight breeze and smile when I look over to see him sitting in the soft glow of the porch light.

  My bare feet carry me toward him. I don’t know what it is, but he likes to sit outside in the cool air and I can’t say that I personally hate that, because I don’t. Watching him for a moment, I wait for him to call me over. He doesn’t disappoint.

  Renzo lifts his hand, his fingers motioning for me to come to him, a cigarette dangling from his other hand. I walk over to him, shifting around his legs and sitting down on one of his thighs, lifting my legs to drape them over his other one.

  Renzo wraps one of his hands around my hip, the other he uses to take another drag from his smoke, which now, I realize isn’t a tobacco cigarette at all.

  “You aren’t sleeping,” he points out.

  “You weren’t next to me.”

  “Got hot,” he explains.

  I hum, lifting my head and touching my mouth to a warm spot of his neck. “I prefer to sleep with the windows open,” I rasp, moving back from his throat.

  He tips his chin, looking down into my eyes. “Yeah?” he asks. “Why?”

  I shrug a shoulder, but I know why. He watches me, waiting for me to tell him the answer to the question he’s asked. Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out on a sigh, knowing that he will wait until I speak. I don’t know a lot about Renzo yet, but one thing I do know is that when he wants an answer, he expects it, even if that doesn’t work the other way around.

  “I don’t know. I guess after Emilyn was taken, a part of me felt as if… if I kept the window open, maybe she would find her way inside. Then later, I found it suffocating to have it closed.”

  Saying it all out loud, it sounds so fucked-up. I really should get help to cope with my feelings over my sister’s disappearance. I obviously haven’t truly ever dealt with it. I think now is probably a good time to do that. Now that I’m attempting to start a life, to live.

  “I understand,” he rasps.

  Licking my lips, I watch him for a moment. “You do?”

  He hums. “I do. My mother was taken from me at a young age, but my father, he was cruel,” he explains, keeping his voice smooth and even, soft.

  “He was?” I breathe.

  He nods his head once, then takes another drag. “He was, cuoricino. It was a long time ago,” he rasps. “But I need that fresh air, the colder the better.”

  Leaning forward, I touch my mouth to his without saying anything. No words need to be spoken. We’re the same, him and me. Maybe our traumas, our hurts aren’t the same circumstances, but we have them and we’re drawn together for a reason.

  Sliding my tongue inside of his mouth, I taste him. I taste the smoke and the whiskey, I taste him. Unable to control myself when I feel his length harden beneath my ass, I shift and turn my body until I’m straddling him on the chair, my mouth still tasting and taking from his.

  Slowly, I break the kiss, my body trembling with more n
eed.

  “You’re sore. I was rough with you,” he says huskily.

  I nod my head once, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I reach between us and tug his boxer briefs down, just enough to free his cock. Wrapping my hand around him, I stroke him a few times, my gaze never leaving his.

  “I am,” I breathe. “But I miss you there. I feel empty, Renzo.”

  He doesn’t smile the way that I expect him to. Instead, he frowns for a split moment, then nods his head once. Shaking off his oddity, I align my center with the head of his dick and slowly sink down, taking him inside of me.

  Renzo’s hands shoot out, gripping my hips. He moves them, rolling them the way he desires, my head drops back as my body follows his commands.

  “Open the shirt,” he demands, his voice rough and so sexy.

  My fingers immediately work the buttons of the shirt open as I lift my head to look into his eyes. He’s still moving me to his desired pace and I’m not upset at it at all, in fact, it feels better than when I do it myself.

  “Take it off.”

  “We’re outside,” I whisper. “Someone could see.”

  His lips twitch, curving up into a wicked smile. “Let them look at my beauty,” he states. “Let them all see what I have and they can’t. Who gives a fuck? Let them watch me fill you with my baby.”

  “Renzo,” I gasp.

  He grunts, standing up, his hands moving to my ass, gripping me roughly. He carries me over to the small table and sets me down on the edge. His hands shift to my waist, his fingers dig into my flesh there, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Spread your legs wider,” he demands on a growl.

  I do it, knowing that it’s what he wants and that he’ll give me what I want in return. He dips his chin, looking down at our connection, as his hips continue to move, in and out, slow, even, and steady.

  My inner thighs ache as I hold them as far open as I can for him. Renzo’s hands shift from my waist, then between us, and I let out a sigh of relief when he grips the insides of my legs and holds me open. I gasp when his thumbs spread my lips apart.