Undressed By The Mafia God

"I will look into it," he said.

Valentina searched his face. "That’s all?"

"That is all I can promise until I have something concrete."

She did not have time for that. Luca already knew too much and would be watching.

"When I do, you will know," Voss said.

Then he walked off. She exhaled through her mouth, then forced herself to move. She walked past the stalls, examining jars of honey, fresh bread, and vegetables.

Voss was right. She thought. She was escalating. She had to find a way to be ahead of Luca now. Because if Luca won, she would lose everything.

****

"Fuck me," Luca grunted.

Vee rode him like she had one clear mission and no respect for his ability to remain sane. His hands gripped her waist. Her ass shifted against his thighs, and his cock sat buried deep inside her, hot, hard, and exactly where he had spent too many miserable weeks fearing it would never properly belong again.

Obviously, it was a good night for Luca. A glorious night. A night worthy of a national holiday in his honour.

She had attacked him straight out of the shower. His wife had looked at him with those dark, greedy eyes, pushed him back onto the bed, and climbed on top of him like she owned his body.

Which she did. Legally, emotionally, sexually. How could he say no? He was a criminal, not a fool. They said pregnant women were always horny. Luca had once thought that sounded like one of those things men said in bars when pretending to know women. Now, with Veronica moving above him, he was beginning to believe it with religious devotion.

His head pressed into the pillow as she rolled her hips again, taking him deeper. "Christ, Bambola."

Vee’s hands braced against his chest, her body moving with enough hunger to ruin him. Her lips parted. Her lashes lowered. She looked powerful.

"I need you wetter, baby," he urged, though God knew she was already soaking him. Still, he wanted more. More of her pleasure. More of that helpless little sound she made. His fingers slid down to where they were joined, finding her swollen nub and rubbing in fast, firm circles.

"Oh, you bastard." Her thighs tightened around him.

"Come on, love," he murmured. "Come on."

Vee did not know how much wetter she could possibly be. She had been ready before he even got home, restless all afternoon.

But his fingers on her sent her closer. Her breathing broke.

"Luca..." she warned.

He rubbed harder. "That’s it."

"Oh God..."

"Fuck yes."

Her orgasm hit with a force that made her bow over him. Luca caught her by both sides, holding her steady as her body clenched around him, her cum coating his cock, making every thrust slick, seamless, beautiful.

He drove into her from beneath. His teeth ground together. His muscles locked as he came inside his wife. He pulled her into his arms, both of them temporarily spent.

Temporarily, because Veronica Genovese had apparently entered the phase of pregnancy where her body made demands. Luca, being a devoted husband had no intention of disappointing either his wife or her hormones.

Vee settled against his chest. His arms closed around her.

"Shall I expect that every time I come home?" he asked.

Vee smiled against his chest. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

"I intend to." He ran his hands up and down her back, his palms moving over the smooth warmth of her skin. His cock slipped out of her, wet and satisfied.

She lifted her head and looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

Vee searched his face. "Are you okay, Luca?"

His brows drew together slightly. "Yeah. Why?"

"I see worry in your eyes."

He almost looked away. But this was Vee. His wife. The woman who had earned every truth in him. So instead of dismissing her observation, he turned her gently to her side and followed, facing her fully. He held her gaze. "The only worry I have is keeping you happy and safe."

"It will always be my worry," he said. "You and our baby."

Vee placed her hand over his chest. "We are safe because of you. You have to make me a promise."

Luca groaned immediately. "Ugh, no. Do not make me." He dragged a hand over his face with great suffering. "I always have to live by the promises I make you."

"Yes, I know. Which is why I really need you to make me this one."

"Bambola," he said quietly, "I would give you anything."

"I can do my best to make you happy, Luca," she said, her voice lowering, "but I cannot keep you safe the same way you keep us safe. I cannot know every enemy. I cannot stand between you and the things you stand in front of for us." Her throat worked. "And I hate that. So promise me," she whispered, "that you will be safe. You will always do anything to return to us. Anything."

Luca looked at her for a long moment. This was a promise he could not make lightly. Not because he feared breaking it, but because keeping it would mean she might end up hating him for the rest of their lives. Anything here meant crawling through hell if hell stood between him and home.

But she knew that. That was why she asked.

He leaned closer, his forehead brushing hers. "Anything, Mammina. I will always come back home to you."

Then he kissed her. A promise pressed to her mouth. Their tongues met slowly, then deeper, becoming hunger in the space of a breath. Vee’s fingers curled against his shoulder as he drew her closer.

Their lips locked, parted, found each other again. His tongue stroked into her mouth, licking against hers, tasting the little gasp she gave him. Teeth grazed. Breath mingled. The kiss turned wet and intimate, no longer about comfort alone but need waking again.

Vee made a soft sound. Luca swallowed it and shifted closer, his body already reawakening. His hand slid down her side, then up again, tracing the curve of her waist, the tender swell of her hip.

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