God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

I got little to no sleep with my cock buried deep inside Gabriella. Not fucking her is impossibly hard, but she needs the rest, so I power through.

I deserve a fucking gold medal for the sweet torture I’m forced to endure.

Then she fucking stirs against my chest, and her pebbled nipples brush over my skin.

Christ.

When her inner muscles clamp around my cock, I let out a harsh breath, sweat beading at the back of my neck.

Before I can ask if she’s awake, Gabriella slowly starts to swivel her hips.

I let out a groan, my fingers digging into her ass cheeks. “You’re killing me.”

“Hmm…”

She rubs her clit against me, the movements quickly pushing me toward an orgasm.

“Amore mia,” I grunt. “You’re going to make me come.”

“That’s the plan,” she moans before starting to press kisses to my pecs. “You feel so good.” Her teeth tug at my nipple. “You taste even better.”

I don’t stand a chance against my wife, and I thrust up once before shooting my release into her wet warmth.

My body shudders from the extreme fucking pleasure after being tortured for hours.

“Christ,” I gasp through ragged breaths, my cock jerking inside her while my body loses all strength.

Gabriella curls against my chest, her muscles tensing before I feel her orgasm hit. Her quivering breaths explode over my skin, and I bury my hands in her hair to pull her head back so I can claim her lips.

The moment I kiss her, a peaceful feeling fills my heart.

My mouth worships hers for long minutes before I finally end the kiss so I can stare into her beautiful eyes.

“You okay?”

“Yes.” She nods, then her pussy frees my cock as she climbs off my lap.

Getting up, I follow her to the bathroom, where we clean ourselves.

I check the bag for chinos, a sweater, and shoes, and getting dressed, I glance at the satin robe that’s the only thing covering my wife’s body.

I dig in the bag again, and when I find leggings and a warm shirt, I mutter, “Just fucking great.”

“What?” Gabriella asks, moving closer to me.

“Carlo packed leggings for you.”

“Oh. He did? Let me have them.”

Not happy, I hand the clothes to her. She pulls on the fucking tight leggings, and when she struggles with the shirt, I help her to ease the fabric over the burns on her back.

“Put on the robe as well,” I order. “I want you covered as much as possible.”

“My possessive man,” she chuckles and the sound eases more of the tension from my body.

When she’s done, I take hold of her chin and tip her face up so she’ll look at me. “How do you feel?”

“Mostly just tender where they shocked me. The stab wound is surprisingly okay.” She glances down. “I don’t think I can put on shoes today. Do we have socks in the bag?”

I check quickly, and let out a breath of relief, thankful that Carlo thought to pack socks for Gabriella.

Crouching down by her feet, I say, “Grab hold of the counter.”

Gabriella lifts her left leg, and I carefully pull the sock onto her foot. We repeat the same process with her right foot, and after I’m done, I look up at her.

Our eyes lock, and as my wife stares down where I’m kneeling by her feet, I admit, “It was hell without you.”

She places her hand against my jaw, and I press a kiss to her palm.

“Thank you for not surrendering and coming to get me.”

“Always, mia regina. It’s you and me forever.”

“Forever,” she whispers as I climb to my feet so I can press a tender kiss to her mouth.

Lifting my head, I say, “You ready to leave?”

She nods, then asks, “Where’s Mamma?”

“Angelo has her. We’ll pick her up on the way home,” I reply while throwing everything into the bag.

“Is she okay? She didn’t get hurt?”

“She’s fine. I found her in the pantry where you hid her.” Looking at my wife, I add, “Thank you for protecting her.”

Gabriella lets out a breath of relief. “I’m glad to hear she’s okay…well, as okay as she can be after losing Aunt Greta and the fright of the attack.”

I pick up the bag, and taking my wife’s hand in mine, I walk out of the bathroom.

When I open the hospital room’s door, I find Carlo sitting on a chair with a coffee forgotten in his hand.

“Let’s go,” I say.

He gets up and places the cup on a counter.

“You’re leaving, Mr. Falco?” the nurse asks.

I notice her nametag says ‘Bianca’ before I nod.

“Instead of bringing Mrs. Falco in for a follow-up, I can come to your house,” she offers.

Knowing Bianca is a part of the family, I nod.

“Thank you,” Gabriella murmurs.

Carlo takes the bag from me, then he waits as I pick Gabriella up bridal style before we leave the clinic that’s been set up for the Cosa Nostra.

When Carlo pulls the car up to Angelo’s mansion in Long Island, I glance at Gabriella. “Wait in the SUV. I won’t be long.”

She nods before glancing at Angelo’s home.

I climb out and give Emilio and Vito a chin lift where they’ve parked behind us.

When Carlo climbs out of the SUV, I shake my head. “Stay with Gabriella.”

I walk toward the front door and see Angelo’s already waiting for me.

Shaking his hand, I say, “Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime,” he replies.

Entering the house, I see Mamma standing with Vittoria, and as I close the distance between us, she reaches an arm out in my direction.

The second I touch her, her face crumbles, and I quickly pull her against my chest.

“I was so worried,” she sobs.

“I’m fine,” I say to reassure her.

“Gabriella?”

“She’ll be fine.” I wrap my arm around Mamma’s shoulders and steer her toward the front door. “Let’s go home.”

“Home?” she asks.

“The house in Manhattan.”

Stopping by Angelo, I give him a thankful nod before heading back to the SUVs.

I get Mamma settled in the SUV with Emilio and Vito, then order, “Straight to the Manhattan house.”

“Yes, boss.”

I press a kiss to Mamma’s temple. “I’m riding with Gabriella.”

“Of course, mio figlio.”

Shutting the door, I walk to the other SUV and climb in beside my wife.

“We’re taking separate cars again?” she asks.

I nod. “We’ll always ride in separate cars.”

“Okay.”

The drive to Manhattan feels like it takes forever, and when Carlo finally parks the car at the back of the mansion, I let out a breath of relief.

Gabriella glances over the estate as we climb out, and I say, “It will be home until all the repairs have been done to the property on Shelter Island.”

“Are there clothes here for Mamma and me?” she asks.

“Yes.”

I watch as Gabriella walks to Mamma.

“Dio. I was so worried about you?” she sobs as she wraps Mamma up in a tight hug.

Before Mamma can return the hug, I say, “Careful of Gabriella’s back and side. She’s hurt.”

“Mia cara!” she exclaims, taking hold of Gabriella’s shoulders. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” She lets out a sob. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“It’s okay,” my wife coos to my mother. “I’m fine. I’ll heal in no time.”

“Let’s go inside,” I say, gesturing for Emilio to unlock the door while I go to pick up Gabriella.

“I can walk,” she protests. “It doesn’t hurt so much.”

“You’ll stay off your feet until I say otherwise,” I mutter.

“So bossy,” she sighs as she rests her head against my shoulder.

I walk to the living room and set Gabriella down on the nearest couch. The mansion isn’t as big as the one on Shelter Island, and it doesn’t have an elevator.

Mamma’s bedroom is on the first floor, whereas mine is on the second one.

“You should all try to get some sleep,” I say.

Carlo takes hold of Mamma’s arm. “I’ll help you to your bedroom, Aunt Aida.”

“Thank you.” Her tone is filled with sorrow as she hooks her arm through Carlo’s.

I turn my attention to Emilio and Vito. “Make sure all the fallen men’s families receive their payments for their sacrifice.”

“Yes, boss,” Emilio replies. “Tommy let me know they’re on their way back from Sicily.”

“Good,” I mutter.

“We’ll stay here while you get some rest,” Vito says before walking to the front of the house.

When Carlo comes back into the living room, I can see he’s struggling with losing his mother.

I close the distance between us, and placing my hand on his shoulder, I lock eyes with him. “You’ll have your revenge soon.”

His jaw clenches as he nods.

“You going to try and sleep?” I ask.

Letting out a sigh, he replies, “Yes. Tomorrow’s going to be one hell of a day.”

“I’m here,” I murmur.

His eyes meet mine again before he nods.

When I turn around, Gabriella’s standing behind me. Her eyes flit between Carlo and me, then she asks, “Can I give Carlo a hug?”

“It’s okay,” Carlo replies. “Thanks, though.”

I pick my wife up, and walking out of the living room, I head for the stairs.

“I just wanted to offer him some comfort,” she explains.

“If he needs a hug, Mamma will give him one,” I mutter.

I walk into the bedroom and kick the door shut. After I set Gabriella down on the bed, I draw the curtains to block out the light.

Instead of staying on the bed, she follows me into the walk-in closet, then asks, “Where did you get my clothes?”

“I had Aunt Greta’s personal shopper purchase an extra set of everything and bring it here. There’s also clothes at the penthouse. I like to travel light.”

“Grazie a Dio,” she murmurs as she takes a pajama set off the shelf. While we change, she asks, “Have you been to the mansion on Shelter Island? Is there a lot of damage?”

“Yes. It will take a couple of months for all the repairs to be done. I’ll have Emilio find candidates for the housekeeper position, then you can choose one or two.”

Dressed in her sleepwear, Gabriella looks at me with sadness furrowing her brows. “How did Martha die?”

“She was buried beneath the rubble,” I murmur.

She shakes her head, sucking in a quivering breath. “What will you do with Stefano?”

My eyes meet hers, and not sugarcoating the words, I say, “I’m going to electrocute him until he begs for death, then I’ll feed him to the rats.”

Gabriella nods, and stepping closer to me, she wraps her arms around my waist. “Thank you for finding me in time.”

“Always, amore mia.”