Bound by the Past Page 18

Enzo glanced my way. He’d occasionally met Antonio.

A gunshot rang in the silence and Enzo flinched with a cry. Another bullet collided with the wall above us.

I dragged Valentina to the ground with me, shielding her with my body, my gun pointed in the direction of our attackers. Frank freed himself and ran away. I aimed at him and pulled the trigger at the same time as Valentina shoved my arm. The bullet missed its target. “Valentina!” I growled. Frank disappeared from view before I could shoot again. “What the fuck was that?”

Valentina shook her head, her skin pale. “I don’t know! I thought he was alone. Frank doesn’t even know anyone who can shoot a gun.”

“You should have let me shoot him. Never interfere like that again.”

“He’s innocent. He doesn’t deserve death.”

“Bullshit. That guy laid a trap and you fucking walked into it,” Enzo muttered.

I nodded. This hadn’t been a coincidence. My wife had walked straight into a fucking trap.

Valentina looked at me. “What do you mean?”

She managed to appear sophisticated and well-acquainted with our ways, but ultimately, Valentina knew little of the true danger of mob life. “Haven’t you wondered why he wanted to meet you? Maybe he’s been approached by the Russians and agreed to help them. They’d love to kill you.”

“Frank wouldn’t do that.”

So trusting and naïve! I wouldn’t lose Valentina. I couldn’t.

After the reinforcement arrived and took Enzo to our doctor, I took Valentina home.

“I’m really sorry,” she whispered during the ride to our mansion.

I didn’t say anything, consumed with so many conflicting emotions I had trouble keeping in check. Anger at Valentina for disobeying my command, worry over losing her, and the need to prove to myself that this woman was mine. What I’d felt when I’d seen Valentina with Frank had been more than simple possessiveness, and then the acute terror I’d felt when the bullet missed Valentina’s head by a few inches…

I didn’t want to ponder my emotions, not these emotions, and focused on my anger for my wife.

After our arrival home, I headed straight for our bedroom, needing to get my fury out of my system. “I’m really sorry,” Valentina said as we entered the room, but I had no intention of letting her off easily.

I pushed Valentina against the bedroom door, my chest pressed against her back, for once using my physical strength against my wife, rendering her motionless. My cock was already becoming hard, feeling Valentina’s sexy body against mine.

“Why do you keep disobeying me, Valentina?” I growled. I pushed her skirt up and dug my erection against her ass, showing her what she did to me. She released a shuddering breath, goosebumps rising on her skin.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice shaking.

My anger was overwhelming, only trumped by the fierce hunger consuming my very being.

“That’s the wrong answer.” I found Valentina wet when I touched her pussy and entered her with two fingers, making sure she was ready for the angry fucking that I craved. And fuck, she was. She was turned on by our fight, which angered and turned me on at the same time. Evoking conflicting emotions in me was Valentina’s specialty.

I started fucking her right against the door, not holding back. My anger ran free as I took her roughly, dominating her, not giving her a choice but to yield to my demands, and she did. Her moans spiraled out of control, her pussy slick around my cock and when she came with a cry and threw her head back, I couldn’t resist to kiss her harshly, claiming that beautiful mouth like I claimed her pussy. I kept pumping into her, overcome with hot-burning pleasure I’d never encountered before, and when I came inside of her and pressed a kiss to her neck, I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore.

 

 

My anger was the safe option, so I focused on it and ignored Valentina completely the following weeks. It was a harsh punishment, for both of us. Lying beside her at night, with her enticing scent in my nose, with the heat of her gorgeous body beside mine, not fucking her was torture.

Valentina gave me space, and for once I wished she wouldn’t, wished she would try to seduce me like she’d done in the beginning just so I could give in.

Two weeks in, I lost my battle against myself. Valentina and I had just turned off the lights and lay beside each other in bed when the throbbing desire in my cock got too much. I pushed up on my elbow. “Not a word,” I growled.

Valentina sucked in her breath as I climbed down her body, shoved down her panties and licked her slit. She arched against my mouth with a stifled moan. I fucked her with my tongue, so eager for her pussy, my cock twitched against the mattress. She came within a few minutes. I hadn’t taken my time, impatient for more. I stood and slipped down my pajama pants. “Get on your knees, Valentina.”

I heard rustling then she appeared before me and sank down. In the dark of the room, I could only make out schemes. Grabbing her neck, I guided her toward my waiting cock. I didn’t allow her to discover me like usual, not in the mood for the gentle approach tonight. Instead, I began to fuck her mouth, letting my anger fuel my moves. She gagged when I hit the back of her throat but didn’t pull back. Her occasional moan around my cock and the way she shifted restlessly told me she enjoyed it very much.

“Do not touch yourself. I’m the only one who’ll get you off,” I snarled. She shivered and I knew she’d be leaking by now. Fuck. The thought toppled me over the edge and I spilled my cum down her throat, holding her in place with a firm grip on her neck. I pulled her up to me, then rasped into her ear. “I’m still mad at you. That’s why you’ll have to go to sleep now without a second orgasm.”

She made a small sound of protest.

“Not a word, Valentina.”

“Dante—”

“No,” I growled.

I pulled up my pants and returned to bed. Valentina followed and stretched out beside me, watching me in the dark. She rubbed her legs together, obviously seeking relief and it was driving me insane, knowing how sopping wet she’d be.

Not saying a word, I parted her legs and thrust two fingers into her. Valentina clenched around me and arched up with a moan. Keeping my fingers inside her, I nicked her earlobe. “I’m too lenient with you.”

I pulled my fingers out of her, half tempted to shove them into my mouth to taste Valentina again.

“Can I taste myself?”

My cock lurched. This woman was so much more than I’d expected, so much more than I could resist.

 

 

In the following weeks, I fucked Valentina every night and engaged in polite but detached conversation, even as I craved more. I couldn’t explain the pull between us. This primal connection was new for me. It was something I might have been able to handle but the accompanying emotions for my wife caught me by surprise. I needed control, thrived on it, but around Valentina I often lost it completely.

Things in the Outfit were tense, so I couldn’t use my emotional instability in the slightest. Ever since Rocco had called me a few minutes ago to tell me Gianna had run away to escape the marriage with Matteo Vitiello, I needed a clear head more than ever. This could destroy peace with the Famiglia, could toss us right into a bloody war.

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