Luciano: Lovers-to-Enemies-to-Lovers Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)

Luciano: Chapter 18



I woke up with a warm body pressed against my back, a man’s strong arms around me. In Luciano’s bed. I slept with my husband. And had sex. Numerous times. My body was enveloped in the sweetest exhaustion. And my heart… oh my heart!

My heart melted. With every word he whispered last night, every promise he gave and every endearment he called me. Some I understood; others I didn’t.

I was a fool to ever think I could just use him for sex to sate my craving. It was always so much more with Luciano. I tried to put up my walls after our fling in the car. I really did. Then we got home and he pretty much swooped me up into his arms and strode into the house, his mouth colliding with mine. Then straight through to our bedroom. Like I was his new bride. Just like he did all those years ago.

“Luciano, stop it,” I whispered softly, never ceasing my fingers as they trailed across the keys of the piano. His warm mouth trailed soft kisses along the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Yet my neck tilted on its own will, just slightly, in order to accommodate him better. It has been like this with him since the beginning. My body always accommodated his touch, needing it. “We’ve been married for a month now. We aren’t newlyweds anymore.”

My fingers continued to caress the keys, tunes of Gnossiennes No. 1 echoing softly through Luciano’s empty house. I always loved music. It was something I inherited from my mother. This has always been one of my favorite melodies, the memories of my childhood warmed my chest. I’d be sitting by the fireplace with my father as I watched my mother play, her graceful fingers moving over the keys with practiced ease. She was an opera singer, but she loved to play the piano.

This grand piano that Luciano had was just as impressive as my mother’s. Although for as long as we’ve been married, I never heard anyone play. I wished my mother’s piano was here. It was part of our family for generations. Part of the Astor legacy.

“I want to fuck you now, Grace.” I felt his lips move against my skin, his breath searing my skin. “On this piano. I want to bury my cock deep inside you.”

The music stumbled, my fingers tripping over the notes. I sensed his satisfied smirk, though I couldn’t see his face.

“You want that too,” he rasped.

His body pressed against my back. My core heated with his words, my panties drenched with the insatiable desire he seemed to constantly feed. It wouldn’t take him long to strip me naked. I only wore one of his button down shirts and panties.

In one smooth move, his hands gripped my waist, then lifted me up and sat my ass on the black shiny surface of the grand piano. The cold surface under my ass sent shivers through my lust sizzling body. Our eyes locked, his gaze full of heat and hunger. For me. My body responded without any thoughts needed.

I spread my legs slowly, my core welcoming him. His hands roamed down my hips, to my thighs. The shredding sound of my panties filled the night. By now, I was used to Luciano’s passion. There wasn’t a flash of panic when his hands roughly handled my body. Instead, my body had been responding to it. Just like now.

The heady, slow burn of arousal flickered through every inch of me. It felt like a growing fire, spreading uncontrollably.

My eyes never wavered from his face, watching every flicker of emotion on his face. His hazel eyes burned from within with the same fire I felt in my veins.

The cold piano under my ass was such a contrast to my body’s inferno. His finger dragged through my folds, exploring.

“You’re drenched.” A groan tore through his throat and every fiber of me vibrated to his words. “For me.”

It didn’t matter how many times he touched me; each time felt new, better with him. On its own will, my body arched up against him as I watched him under my heavy eyelids.

His fingers slammed into me and a loud moan vibrated through the room.

“I fucking love your sounds,” he groaned. I barely had time to draw a quick breath before his other hand fisted my hair, and his mouth crashed down on mine, angling my head for deeper tongue penetration. His kiss was hard, demanding, and my legs hooked around his waist.

“Take the shirt off,” he rasped. “I want to see every inch that belongs to me.”

In rushed movements, I obeyed his command and in seconds I sat naked on his piano, waiting for what was coming next.

He stepped closer to me, both my thighs wrapping around his waist. His body pressed against mine, his mouth moving down my neck, to my collarbone, then shoulders. When his mouth reached my breasts, he licked and sucked on my nipples until I was panting.

God, I couldn’t wait to feel him inside me, feel his hot skin against mine. His rough, callused hand gently pushed me to lay back, the cold surface of the piano cooling the skin on my back.

He kissed his way down my stomach until he reached my pussy. His fingers pushed deeper inside me, then out and thrust inside again. My hips rocked against him, my head whipped from side to side. I closed my eyes, flying high, relishing in this sensation.

“Keep your eyes on me, Tesoro,” he commanded in a hoarse voice. I opened my eyes and seeing my husband between my thighs nearly unraveled me.

My back arched off the piano as he pinched my nipple with his other hand.

“Please, Luciano,” I begged.

“What do you need?” He knew what I needed. Nobody was ever so in tune with my body as this man.

His mouth reached my pussy, he was so close. The anticipation was killing. I wanted his mouth on my sensitive folds. I ached for him there.

He must have taken pity on me because I felt his teeth scrape over my clit just before he sucked on it.

A delightful shiver rippled through my body. “Ohhhhh.”

My fingers intertwined through his hair, his soft strands a familiarity I never wanted to give up. His mouth was merciless, licking and sucking my pussy; his finger working in and out of me. He devoured me, sucking hard on my clit and thrusting his tongue inside me. My insides quivered, reaching higher and higher for the peak. The overload of sensation caused me to yelp, my body withering away from him. But my husband’s hands clamped on my hips, forcing me to hold still till my body came apart.

“Fuck,” I screamed as an orgasm rippled through me and white lights flashed behind my eyelids.

Before I came down from my heights, Luciano lifted me off the piano, turning me over while planting my feet on the ground.

“Bend over and brace yourself,” he demanded hoarsely.

I barely followed his command, placing my palms flat against the piano, the cold surface against my chest sending goosebumps through every inch of my heated skin. He made quick work of getting rid of his pajama pants, his hands gripped my hips and he drove into me from behind, my body still shivering with the orgasm. One deep thrust through my clenching pussy and I was ready for him. Every fiber of me was so in tune with his needs, just as he was with mine.

“Don’t ever forget who you belong to,” he growled.

He pounded into me, his grunts mingling with my whimpering moans. The sounds of piano notes penetrated through my sex-drenched fog. With each plunge of his, my body pushed against the keyboard, creating a note in tune with his thrusts.

“That’s right,” he groaned. “You are mine.” He thrust into me again, hard and deep. The sounds from the strings resonated through the room as he fucked me hard, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh in tune with the deep notes. The pure sensation of fire and my love for him melted into liquid gold as another volcano erupted.

I pressed my mouth against my hand in an attempt to muffle my screams. Luciano’s own roar followed right behind me as his cock pulsed inside me, spilling his release. I felt his strong body pressed against my back and any rational thought evaporated, leaving only the passion for this man.

The music notes created by our bodies pressing against the keys ended, our bodies sated, and every single piece of me fluttered away, straight into my husband’s arms.

As I took a deep breath, I tried to shift when he scooped me up into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I gasped at his sudden movement.

“I’m carrying my bride over the threshold of my bedroom.”

I should have known I had fallen for him that day.

Luciano’s big body stirred behind me, his arm tightening around my waist. God, it felt good having his arm around me, but it was stupid. I shouldn’t have succumbed to my desire for him. Yet, my body didn’t mind at all. I was relaxed and sated more than I have been in years.

I risked glancing over my shoulder and found my husband sound asleep. His sharp features were still striking, even in his sleep. But there were also traces of a gentle boy he once was, before he became a ruthless and dangerous man. His dark hair fell over his eye, and I knew it was soft as silk. Our son had the exact same hair color as his father. God, I wanted to twist around and wrap my arms around my husband, touch his hair, his inked skin. Make him mine. But I didn’t want to risk waking him up. And truthfully, he wasn’t mine. Not really.

Most of the night what we’d done was intense, rough, like two starving humans that haven’t experienced touch in far too long. I preferred that to the gentleness. His softness and tenderness would break me. After all night of starved and greedy sex, he took me into the shower and tore down every inch of my wall.

I was grateful for the shower sprinkling water all over my face. Because what we had done felt damn close to love making. The water from the shower hid my tears that escaped, rolling down my face at hearing my husband murmur words of love as he slowly slid in and out of me.

Slowly wiggling out of his warm, strong grip, I grabbed my panties and one of his shirts. Before leaving, my gaze traveled over his muscled body. Ink covered so much of his skin. Sleeves of ink painted both of his arms and hands, his chest and torso had magnificent tattoos that I could spend days studying. My eyes lingered on his chest and then I saw it, and my heart skipped a beat.

It can’t be.

Leaning closer, that was when I saw it. Sola Gratia. By Grace Alone. The tattoo over the left side of his chest. He didn’t have it before. How did I not notice it the morning Matteo fell asleep against him? Was there a meaning to his tattoo? It could mean nothing.

Yes, it is probably better not to read too much into that.

I tiptoed towards the door, softly opened the bedroom door with a silent click and snuck out of his room like a thief, then rushed to Ella.

Before passing by Matteo’s room, I checked on my son. Still in a deep sleep, his hair fell down on his forehead in exactly the same manner as his fathers. I reached out, brushing it off his forehead gently. My son has been my heart from the second I felt him move inside me. Living without Luciano shattered my heart, but living without Matteo would break me. I had to ensure he was safe; regardless of the cost. To me or anyone else.

Leaving his room, I continued towards Ella’s room. We ran into each other ten feet from her bedroom door, she was coming from the opposite direction. Wearing someone else’s shirt. Massimo’s, if I had to guess.

Our eyes locked, both of us in a state of undress. She gave me a sheepish smile.

“I guess we both had a wild night,” I muttered, shaking my head. It would seem both of us were stupid.

“But what a night,” she replied wistfully.

With a soft chuckle, although somewhat coated with bitterness, we both entered her room.

“I thought of something,” I told her. I wouldn’t grill her about Massimo. She’d tell me if she needed to talk about it. It was the same with me. That was what made us great friends. We trusted each other and always listened when the other needed to vent. But we never asked, pried or demanded to know it all.

“What?”

I pulled her into her room and we sat down on her bed before I started.

“My grandmother usually holds her annual gala every year. It is supposed to be tomorrow. What if we made an appearance there? Grandma and Uncle usually never miss it.”

She frowned. “Yeah, I remember, but what good would that do?”

“We could take him and her down there.”

The silence followed, our gazes locked. We had never killed; I never thought I’d hurt another human being. It wasn’t me but if it came down to them or us… well, it had to be them.

“I’ll do it,” I murmured. My family had taken so much from me. But even with all that knowledge, the thought of killing them didn’t come easily. “But that’s not going to fix our problem in full though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even with them gone, that agreement of selling me still stands. It has been standing for centuries. Same is true for your parents’ agreement for you. My uncle might have ruined your family, but he sold that agreement to Benito King.”

“What are you saying, Grace?”

Heartbeat of silence.

“We have to kill all the Kings.”

“Are you suicidal?” I understood her hesitation. After all, the King family has been known for their cruelty, ruthlessness and bloodthirst. “We’d have to kill them all at the same time; otherwise, they’d hunt us down. And Grace, they wouldn’t just kill us.”

I watched her expression, fear coloring her features. She was right. They wouldn’t just kill us. They’d make us regret ever being born. The word was they tortured their enemies for years.

“I know,” I murmured. “But what other way could we ensure they never get their hands on us?” I took a deep breath in and then slowly exhaled. “Gabriella, if they get their hands on us, we are dead anyhow.”

“Fuck.” I agreed with that word exactly. Either way, we were fucked, and we’d have to go into a lifetime of hiding. My heart squeezed painfully at the thoughts of not seeing Matteo every day. It made it hard to breathe. Surviving the loss of Luciano was hard. But I wasn’t sure if I could survive losing Matteo.

But he’ll be alive. Luciano will ensure his safety as soon as he finds out he is his son. Matteo’s safety was all that mattered. I wanted him to grow up into a man… a good man. Hopefully, Luciano would respect my wishes not to pull him into his criminal world.

“What about Cassio and Luca King?” Ella questioned.

“What about them?”

“Well, they are the Kings too.”

I frowned. It crossed my mind too. I didn’t know what the deal was with them. How come they didn’t know about the standing agreement between the Romano and the King families? I was certain they didn’t know. Otherwise, they would have hauled my ass out of here the second they saw me.

“I don’t know,” I told her honestly. “They are Benito King’s sons, but it is like they don’t know anything about all this.” We couldn’t waste time wondering what their deal was. “We should probably kill them too.”

Ella’s face portrayed shock. “What if they are innocent?”

“And what if they aren’t, Ella?” I retorted.

“They seem close friends with your husband,” she murmured. “And those five men, including your husband… I don’t think we are a match for them.”

“I know. But what do we do if they decide to enforce the agreement? They are the Kings after all.”

“Jesus, we had dinner with them.”

I blinked at her justification. “So, we should let them kill us because we had dinner with them?”

Rolling her eyes, she smacked my arm playfully. “That is not what I am saying. But maybe we should consider they might not be connected to their father. I mean, you grew up under your uncle and have no connection to him. Maybe they are similar.”

I took a heavy sigh. “Fine, I’ll give you this one. Can you hack into their communication and see what the deal is with them? I don’t think we are a match for Cassio and Luca King anyhow. If their relationship with their father is similar to mine with my uncle, we’ll let them live.”

Ella chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “I swear, woman. You sound bloodthirsty, and we haven’t killed a single person yet.”

“I don’t really like the idea of killing anyone. But I really don’t want to be sold to some criminal.”

“I can tell,” Ella muttered. “You are still trying to get over your current one.”

“I am totally over the current one.”

“Right.”

“What does that mean?”

“Why don’t you just admit you are not over him?”

“I am!”

“No, you are not. Maybe your husband is not over you either.”

“Now you are just talking stupid,” I spat back “He was never into me, so there is nothing for him to get over.”

“Right, that’s why he beat Ian like some mad man… in the middle of a nightclub.”

“Why are we talking about him? We have this life and death situation over our heads, and we are debating whether Luciano is or isn’t into me. When we are dead, do you really think in the grand scheme of things it will matter?”

“You think we won’t get out of this alive?”

“We’ll damn well try.” I observed her fidget with her hands. She was acting funny. “Gabriella, what the fuck is the matter?”

“Well, I kind of want to get out of it alive. I like Massimo. Like a lot.” I frowned. It was the first time she said those words out loud. “I know you don’t like him. I don’t like Luciano for what he did to you. But I’m willing to give him a chance. Can you do the same for Massimo?”

Pushing my hands through my hair, that was still a mess from my tumbling last night with my husband, I looked at her incredulously.

“Sure, Ella. You know I love you, and I want you to be happy. However, I’m not asking you to give Luciano a chance. Both of those assholes pointed their guns at me.” I watched emotions flicker over her face. “Besides, thinking about Massimo while we have the King family hunting for us along with the Romano family isn’t the right thing to do right now. ”

She exhaled in resignation. “I know, I know. But I’m tired of running. And I just know it will be worse this time. It was hard watching you last time, and your pregnancy was what helped us both get through. It was the only thing that drove us. What will we have this time?”

I blinked hard, several times, the sting of years burning in my eyes. “We can’t bring Matteo along. It’s too risky. Luciano will make sure he is safe.”

The heavy admission clenched my heart. From the moment Luciano found us, running without Matteo was what I dreaded the most. My husband had set things in motion by dragging us all back.

“You have everything ready so he knows he is his?”

I nodded, unable to get the words out.


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