Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“Let me show you,” she says.
I release her wrist, watching as she balances on her knees and pulls the sheet back. Her head dips low, her hair gliding over my thighs like silk as she sucks me into her mouth. She takes as much of me as she can, and I groan, pressing my fingers into her skull.
The little fiend gets off on my roughness. I get off on watching my obsession worship my cock. For years, I’ve harbored this darkness. I’ve stalked her. Craved her. Hated her. Needed her. And now that everything has been stripped away, all that’s left is a raw, unhinged kind of love. To keep this—there is nothing I won’t do, no line I won’t cross.
She is, and will forever be, mine.
Every time I think she can’t get any hotter, she does something like this. Watching her milk my cock while she’s round with our baby is slightly deranged, but I’m not stopping her either.
She keeps going until I come in her mouth, and then she swallows it all and licks me clean until I pull her off my dick.
“Come up here,” I tell her.
“Where?” She glances at me in confusion.
“On my face.”
She looks at me hesitantly, like she thinks she’s going to smother me. It would be cute if I weren’t so fucking hungry for her.
“Cara,” I warn her. “Get. On. My. Face.”
She lets out a little huff and then does as she’s told, climbing over me and sitting on my face.
I lick all the way up her seam and then spread her apart, eating her out until she comes. That desperate little cry she makes unravels me every time.
While she gets her breathing under control, I kiss the inside of her thighs and slide my palms up over her hips to her belly, embracing what we’ve created there.
She reaches down and threads her fingers through my hair, and that softness tempts me to stay in bed with her all morning, napping and fucking her. But then I remember she has other needs.
“You’re thinking about feeding me, aren’t you?” She eases herself off me and slides down into the space between my arm and chest, resting her head there.
A smirk plays across my lips. “That, among other things.”
She smiles, tracing the line of my jaw with her fingers. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For always looking after me.”
“That’s my job,” I murmur.
“I know.” Emotion threatens to steal her voice. “But not everybody gets this, and I just want you to know how much it means to me.”
I brush her hair back, lips grazing her cheek. I know she’s probably thinking about her mom and the life she never got to have. Her father left her wounded, and I’ll spend the rest of my life healing what he broke if that’s what it takes.
“You weren’t protected the way you should have been,” I tell her. “But you’re mine now. And I can promise you, with me…that will never happen again.”
EPILOGUE
ABELLA
The afternoon sun bathes me in golden warmth as I sprawl across my husband’s bare chest. It’s a perfect encapsulation of a moment in time, and there isn’t a thing that could ruin it. Not even when a shadow falls over us, and I open my eyes to find Mariella holding our crying daughter in her arms.
“She has her father’s temper.” Mariella hands Antonella off to Angelo and shakes her head before she leaves us.
He doesn’t even look the slightest bit sorry about that as he cradles the back of Antonella’s head and tucks her into the safety of his arm. On cue, she lets out one last little huff and settles in, exactly where she wants to be.
He smirks at me, and I roll my eyes. “She does the same thing with me when you’re not around.”
“Sure she does.”
Truthfully, nobody can calm her the way Angelo can. But I get it. He’s our safe space—our refuge from the world. Antonella is a daddy’s girl through and through, but when I see them together, I can’t even be sad about it.
Angelo was intense throughout my entire pregnancy—ensuring I ate, slept, and rested as needed. But now that our daughter has arrived, he’s absolutely unhinged when it comes to protecting the two of us. I already pity whichever poor soul falls in love with Antonella when she’s older, because they won’t stand a chance.
True to his nature, my husband is terrifying in his devotion. What we have is sacred and untouchable, and he makes it clear every day that nothing and nobody will ever come between us again.
To everyone else, he’s Il Diavolo—the man who sends shivers down spines when he walks into a room. His life is filled with darkness, sin, violence, and bloodshed. He’s dangerous, but not to us. When he holds our daughter, he handles her with a gentleness nobody else will ever know from him.