Bound By The Past (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 7)

She didn’t deserve this. I glanced down at my white-knuckled fist then at the bulge in my pants. Who the fuck was I kidding? I wasn’t a good man. I could take whatever I wanted, why did I deprive myself when Valentina was willing? I wanted her, and Valentina wanted me. I’d always prided myself on my control, so why was I so scared of losing it around her?

Without thinking it through, I went in search of my wife. I still wasn’t sure what I’d do once I saw her, if I’d finally listen to the roaring voice in my body demanding I claim her.

I opened the bedroom door and found Valentina on the bed. Her bathrobe wide open, her legs slightly parted and her elegant, long fingers stroking her pussy. She let out a moan I felt in every damn fiber of my body and I sucked in a breath, knowing the battle I’d fought these last few weeks was lost.

There was no use trying to stop the unstoppable. Tonight I’d make her mine.

Valentina’s eyes opened in shock. She wrenched her hand back, closed her bathrobe and tried to get off the bed.

I moved without thinking, barring her way. She looked up at me in shock, her fingers still pressing her robe together, depriving me of her gorgeous body. “No,” I got out, past the pulsating desire in my body.

I bent over her, forcing her back and she yielded, lying down and looking up at me with huge eyes. She smelled delicious and finally her hand let go of the robe, letting it fall open, baring herself to me. I leaned further down. This woman was mine, every inch of her. Soon I’d bury myself in her.

I supported my weight on one arm and parted Valentina’s legs with my knee. Her folds glistened with her arousal, and for a second I wanted to unzip my pants and take her right then. Maybe then she’d realize what kind of man I was.

I cupped her breast, feeling her nipple harden against my palm. Valentina was so damn responsive, so ready to be taken. I pinched her nipple, a warning and promise, trying to see if she could really take what she would get. If she understood that this wouldn’t be lovemaking, that this would be me laying my claim, me ripping her innocence from her. Valentina arched up with a moan, and I was lost. I tugged at her nipple, coercing more moans from her parted lips. Her eyes were on my face, full of need and surprise. She rocked her hips with every tug of her nipple. This was turning her on, making her wet. It was obvious how untrained her body was, how willing to submit to pleasure. I’d show her so much of it. Her nipple was red from my ministrations and I couldn’t resist anymore. I bent down and sucked the silky nub into my mouth, enjoying how hard with arousal it was.

Valentina bucked up, needing more, demanding I give her what she needed. But she’d have to learn that we played this by my rules only. I grabbed her hips and pressed her into the bed. She shifted her pussy against my knee, and I tightened my hold further. Her hot center against my knee made me want to stop the slow approach.

I nicked her nipple with my teeth in warning and Valentina groaned, jerking her pussy against me again.

My eyes focused on her face, on the innocent surrender in her expression. She submitted to me, trusted me. I reached for her knee and opened her legs wider. There was no resistance. Her body was ready and she looked more than willing, but I forced myself to say, “Tell me now if you want this.”

Valentina’s chest heaved. Realization flickered in her eyes that this was it. I half hoped, half dreaded she’d say no. “I want this.”

“Good.” I turned my attention toward her other nipple, teasing it with my tongue as my fingers found her dripping center. I pressed down on her clit and Valentina exploded at once, crying out and shaking. She was so fucking wet, so warm and the sounds dripping from her lips went to my cock. She was like a firecracker. Valentina raised her eyes almost defiantly. Oh, I’d love to make her submit to me in bed.

I dipped my fingers lower until they brushed her opening and then I began to enter her. She was impossibly tight and discomfort flashed on her beautiful face. I kept pushing into her until my fingers were buried in her, then I forced myself to wait a moment for her to adapt even if it was the last thing I wanted.

The moment her walls softened their crushing grip, I started to finger-fuck her gently, giving her time to stretch and prepare for what was to come.

“You are incredibly tight. I can’t wait to be inside you.” I barely recognized my own voice, so drenched with desire. Valentina came again and I could barely hold back a groan.

I pulled my fingers out. They were slick with her arousal. She was ready for me. She had to be because I couldn’t hold back anymore. I didn’t want to.

I shrugged off my jacket before I unbuckled my belt

“You’re hard,” Valentina said in surprise as she looked at the tent in my pants.

“I’m capable of getting an erection. I’m not impotent.” Her look of fascination nearly made me laugh and I was glad for Valentina’s words because they reminded me that she was a young woman, my wife, who deserved any shred of tenderness I could spare.

“That’s not what I meant. But I thought you weren’t attracted by my body,” she said.

How could she still believe that? So dangerously oblivious when it came to detecting a man’s desire. “Don’t worry. Your body would leave few members of the male species unaffected.”

I got rid of my pants and boxers. It had been almost two months since I’d been with a woman and I couldn’t wait anymore, not when Valentina lay in front of me with spread legs, waiting for me to stake my claim.

“Scoot up,” I ordered, even as I realized that I should choose gentler words, but I’d warned her. I nudged her opening with my tip, stifling a groan at her hot arousal. Her walls fisted me tightly as I started to push in. Valentina tensed further and cried out in pain. Despite my dark hunger and the fierce throbbing of my cock, the sound of her discomfort was like a balm for the fire in my veins, reminding me again that she was my responsibility. I paused, waited for Valentina to relax, for a sign that she could take more of me. Her green eyes found mine, swimming with nerves and trust. She grabbed my shoulders and nodded. The permission I needed.

I pushed in the rest of the way in one sharp stroke, forcing her walls to surrender. Valentina pressed up against me, her lips thinning from the pain.

Pleasure thrummed heavily through my balls and cock. I couldn’t remember I had felt like this—if ever. “Tell me when I can move.”

“It’s okay.”

I started fucking her slowly. Every thrust pushed me closer to release. Staring down at Valentina’s stunned and sweaty face only increased my pleasure. Primal satisfaction at being the first inside of her filled me. This was supposed to be mere fucking but as I glanced down at the woman beneath me, it felt like more than using Valentina for pleasure. Being close to her physically felt good in unexpected ways. Acting on impulse, I kissed Valentina when I came. For a heartbeat, I allowed myself to lose myself in the taste of her, my eyes closed. When I opened them, catching Valentina’s hopeful expression, I quickly pulled away. I didn’t want her to get her hopes up for something that I couldn’t give her.

After making sure she was all right, I left the room without a look at her undoubtedly hurt face.

It was dishonorable to leave my wife like that after our first time together, after her first time, but the force of my guilt and confusion compelled me to seek isolation. I needed time to think, time to calm down.

Zita gave me a curious look as I passed her on the way to my office.

Once the door closed behind me, I staggered to my desk and sank down in the chair. My gaze landed on the picture of Carla. A new wave of guilt crashed down on me. Raking my fingers through my hair, I put the frame down, not able to bear my late wife’s eyes on me.

Another emotion mixed with the guilt over betraying Carla: guilt over how I treated Valentina. She’d done nothing wrong. Remembering the way, she’d given herself to me mere minutes ago only increased the weight on my conscience. I sank back in my chair.

As a rational man, I knew it was unreasonable to feel obligated to a dead woman when I had a breathing, feeling woman I was supposed to care for.

And yet, here I was, torn apart between the present and the past.

I picked up the frame, opened a desk drawer then hesitated before I finally stowed it inside and closed the drawer.

This wasn’t going to silence the past. My fingers lingered on the handle. With a sigh, I leaned back and closed my eyes.