God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

Even though I didn’t have much of an appetite, I made Coda alla vaccinara for Mamma, knowing she loves oxtail.

I hope Stefano suffers a lot.

It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we arrived home after attending the funeral.

I can’t believe Aunt Greta’s gone.

I glance at Mamma, where she’s sitting in an armchair with her eyes closed.

“How are you doing, Mamma?” I murmur.

Slowly, she opens her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “I keep listening for Greta. It’s so quiet without her.

I know.

“Should I switch on the TV?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m actually tired, cara. I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Let me walk with you to your room.”

I get up from the chair and help Mamma to her feet.

As we walk to her bedroom, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and give her a sideways hug, then say, “Please let me know if there is anything I can do to make you feel better.”

We stop near her door, and she gently pats my cheek. “You’re already helping, mia figlia.”

Hearing her call me her daughter, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly. My voice is hoarse as I whisper, “Ti voglio bene, Mamma.”

“Ti voglio bene, cara.” A loving smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “You’re such a blessing to me.”

I pull back and swallow hard on the tears from the special moment we’re sharing. “I hope you sleep well.”

Mamma pats my shoulder, then I watch as she walks into her room before I pull the door shut so she’ll have privacy.

Tugging my cardigan tighter around my shoulders, I walk toward the stairs so I can head up to my bedroom. When I come around a corner, I slam into a solid wall of muscle.

Damiano’s hands fly to my shoulders to keep me from staggering backward, and the next second, I’m squashed to his chest.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Sorry, I was deep in thought.” I glance up and smile at him. “You’re home.”

“I’m home,” he murmurs.

Taking my hand, he leads me to our room, and after shutting the door behind us, I’m pulled back into his arms. He rests his hand behind my head and practically curls his body around mine.

“I missed you,” I sigh against his shirt that smells like blood and sweat. “But you need to shower. You smell like death.”

Damiano lets out a chuckle, the sound still foreign to hear because he doesn’t do it often.

Pulling away from me, he walks to the bathroom and while my man showers, I carefully strip out of my clothes.

The burns on my back are starting to feel better, but the nurse said it might take a week or two before they fade away.

I’m surprised that the stab wound gives me the least pain. It feels more like a slight discomfort when I move too quickly, but other than that, I forget it’s there.

Once I’m naked, I tug the covers back and crawl onto the bed.

I lie down on my left side and snuggle into a pillow while I listen to the water running in the shower.

Things feel a bit up in the air because I have to get used to the Manhattan house. I miss the lake mansion, and Aunt Greta, and Martha, and Gerardo.

A heavy sigh drifts from my chest.

I hear the water turn off, and after Damiano’s finished, he comes out and switches the light off.

He’s also naked as he climbs beneath the covers. Turning on his side, he stares at me for a moment before I pull him into my arms.

He presses his face into the crook of my neck, and when my fingers start to brush up and down his back, his body shudders.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

I kiss his hair and hold my man while he decompresses.

Drinking in the feel of his warm skin and hard muscles beneath my fingertips, I once again think about how grateful I am that he got to me in time.

Lifting his head, his eyes meet mine. “Stefano’s dead.”

I bring my hand to his jaw, and as he presses a kiss to my palm, I whisper, “Thank you.”

“I also had my men bring your family to New York.”

I’m totally caught by surprise, and a dark frown forms on my forehead.

“Why? I don’t want them here.”

He shakes his head, then says, “I killed them.”

Oh.

For a moment, I blink at my husband, then his words sink in.

Holy crap.

“They’re dead?” I ask to make sure.

“Yes.”

Damiano has killed everyone who’s ever hurt me.

I lean forward and press my mouth to his. “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips.

He kisses me tenderly before pulling a little back. “It’s my Christmas gift to you.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Only you would think killing people counts as a Christmas gift.” Staring at Damiano with all the love I feel for him, I add, “I love it, though. It makes me feel better they’re gone and can never hurt me again.”

Damiano turns onto his back and pulls me on top of him. “I liked how we slept in the hospital.”

“Yeah?” I straddle him, and feeling how hard his cock is, I reach down between us and position him at my entrance. When I take his cock all the way, I moan, “You want to sleep buried deep inside me, amore mio?”

“Yes.”

I press my chest to his stomach and rest my cheek over his heart. Feeling his cock stretch me to my limits and knowing we’re as close to each other as we’ll ever be, I whisper, “I like it too.”

Damiano’s hand finds my hair, and he pulls his fingers through the strands. “Ti amo.”

I press a kiss to his pec. “Ti amo, marito mio.”

When I wake up, lying on top of Damiano with his cock still buried inside me, the corner of my mouth lifts.

I love waking up like this so much.

He’s still fast asleep, and I can’t resist pressing a kiss to his skin.

Pushing myself into a sitting position, his morning hard-on pushes deeper into me, and I let out a moan.

Oh yes.

My eyes drift over every sculptured muscle in his chest and abdomen while my fingers trace the curve of the lines carved into his sides.

Dio. My husband is pure perfection.

My core clenches with need, and as my gaze flits between his face and his body, I slowly begin to move.

Having Damiano asleep beneath me as I start to fuck him is one hell of a turn-on.

There’s a tightening sensation in my abdomen, and with my palms and fingers feasting on his chest and abs, I move faster and faster.

Damiano lets out a groan, and his muscles tense so much I’m almost delirious from rubbing my hands all over him.

“Dio,” I gasp as I fuck him as hard as I can. “Fucking you while you’re asleep is the hottest thing ever.”

My breaths explode over my lips, and when an overpowering orgasm rips a cry from me, Damiano grabs hold of my buttcheeks and starts to thrust up into me.

“You like that, amore mia? You like fucking me while I’m out cold?” He groans as he hammers unbelievably hard into me, making my orgasm so much more intense.

“Yes,” I sob from the ecstasy holding my body captive.

“Do you want to restrain me so you can have full control?” he growls.

The image alone is enough to make another orgasm hit, and I can only nod as I whimper through the pleasure.

Damiano keeps pounding ruthlessly hard inside me. “Do you want me powerless beneath you?”

“Y-yes,” I gasp, my clit becoming oversensitive from all the friction.

When Damiano jerks and buries his cock to the hilt, I drink in the sight of his orgasm ripping the air from his lungs and rendering him helpless.

A sense of power floods my veins as I stare down at my husband while he orgasms, and I say, “That’s right, amore mio. Come hard for me. Fill me with your release so I can give you an heir.”

His eyes burn on my face as he thrusts twice more into me, his teeth bared and his muscles straining from reaching his climax.

I’m completely captivated by the hot-as-hell sight of Damiano orgasming, and when he starts to relax beneath me, I lean over him and press a kiss to his mouth before praising him, “You fucked me so well.”

He lets out a chuckle while his fingers massage my buttcheeks. “You’re a dominant little spitfire first thing in the morning. It’s fucking sexy.”

Snuggling against his chest, I let out a satisfied sigh. “That was amazing.”

“One hell of a way to wake up,” he groans as he pulls out of me. “Up and off, amore mia.”

I climb off him, and letting out a burst of laughter, I run for the bathroom so I can get there first.

I quickly relieve my bladder and clean myself, then hurry out so Damiano can use the bathroom.

My little stunt earns me a slap on the backside before he heads inside.

I straighten the covers on the bed and when I hear the water running in the shower, I join Damiano.

Stepping beneath the warm spray, I reach for the body wash.

He presses a kiss to my shoulder, then says, “Merry Christmas, amore mia.”

Dio! I totally forgot!

My eyes widen as I turn around to face him. “Merry Christmas.” We share a tender kiss, then I admit, “I forgot.”

He shakes his head while his eyes fill with love for me. “Next year will be better. This was not how I wanted our first Christmas to be, but at least we’re together.”

I nod as I start to wash his body while smiling up at him. “At least we’re together.”

He tilts his head, then says, “Where would you like to go for our vacation?”

“You mean our honeymoon?”

He shakes his head. “Everyone will come with. I think we all deserve a couple of weeks away from New York.”

My smile widens, and excitement pours into my veins as I say, “Cape Town. I’ve heard it’s really beautiful there, and if we have time, we can visit the national parks and see all the animals.”

“Cape Town, it is. I’ll have Emilio make all the arrangements.”

Pushing my body up on my tiptoes, I press a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, la mia regina.”