His: Tony: The Sabatini Family by Fiona Murphy (mystery books to read .TXT) 📗

I woke up to Anthony on my chest, and Dominic curled up on my lap. Even though I didn’t know it would be the last time Anthony would cling to me or Dominic would look at me without knowing I was a killer. Deep down in those early moments of waking, I knew enough to hold the moment tight and treasure it. Two weeks later, I would participate in the massacre of the Berlucci family and my boys became one hundred percent aware of who and what I was. Their training had to begin, and nothing was ever the same for them, for me, for us as a family.

Today for the first time in a long fucking time, I know contentment. I’m at peace, and it’s because of Christy. Closing my eyes, I sigh. The moment I saw her, I knew deep down everything had changed.

I can’t kill her. I don’t want to kill her. I never wanted to kill her, not since I read the report on her. As I pushed the heroin across the table to her, for the first time since Anthony’s funeral, I prayed for strength to endure what would come next. When she pushed it back to me, I almost stood up and took her then and there. If she was willing to fight, then so was I.

I’m keeping her. The only problem is it won’t be enough to simply keep her. I’m going to have to make her fall in love with me, to bind her to me so tightly she can never bring herself to hurt me.

There lies a double-edged sword. Love is one of the few things that will lead a sane person to madness and be willing to kill when they never thought they would or even could. It comes to me, how to tie her to me without the fear of her blowing out my brains when it goes bad—the two losses she endured. The file said there were five in vitro tries total to get those two pregnancies.

If she wants a baby, I’ll give her a baby. For an unbearably long decade, I wanted more children after Dominic. Until the day my wife died, I held out hope she would give me another child. I wanted a half dozen, a home filled to bursting with children. I gave up on the dream with her death. Once she was dead, the idea of tying myself to another woman for the rest of my life was a hard fucking no. As the years went on, none of the women I met ever changed my mind, not even for the children a few hinted they wanted.

When Anthony died, something died inside me. I’m not even sure what it was exactly. The part of you that has hope, that believes in miracles and magic and all the rest of the shit you say you don’t believe in but deep down, you wish might be real. I still had Dominic, and he would have to be enough. And he was. I wasn’t willing to take a chance again with another woman.

With Christy I’m not simply going to take a chance, I’m going to squeeze it tight with both hands and not let go. She wants a baby—I’m going to give her one. Hell, after twice last night, I might have already given her one.

Yeah, I’m a fucker who never wears a condom. I didn’t when I was fifteen and I haven’t in all the years since. Some women bitched but never enough that it was a deal breaker. It was one of the reasons I preferred longer relationships with women I could trust.

Christy hadn’t said a word, probably hadn’t even thought of it. With her being married and wanting a baby, she likely wasn’t on birth control. I managed to get my wife pregnant both times over weekend, maybe I’ll get lucky again. This, us, needs to get settled as quickly as possible. Christy isn’t going anywhere. She might get pissy about me getting her pregnant without her asking for it, she’ll get over it.

Feeling the shift in her, I look down to find Christy staring up at me with soft, curious eyes. I run a finger along her cheek. “Good morning.”

Her voice is husky with sleep. “Is it going to be my last morning?”

Ah, her fire. I love it as much as her perfect tits. “Not today.”

She pulls back. “So will it be tomorrow?”

To avoid answering the question, I take her mouth the way I’ve wanted to since I woke up. As I hoped, all thought disappears for the both of us.

“Oh, sorry!” Carmella yells before she slams my bedroom door closed.

Christy buries her face in my neck. “Oh god, how embarrassing.”

“It’s fine. Come on, I’m running behind. We’ll save time and shower together.”

Her hazel eyes glitter emerald up at me, the same way they had when I was inside her. Fuck, she is beautiful. We are going to have gorgeous baby girls. I can’t wait. Picking her up, I take her with me into the bathroom. A punch brings up my saved setting, she gasps as the water runs over us. Those perfect tits sway and I need a taste. Her hands go around my neck as she melts into me. Christ, it’s not enough. I need to be inside her again. I back up to the bench and hit another button for the shower head above us. Then I’m down, pulling her onto me.

We both moan as she slides down my cock. Will it always steal my breath? Blow my mind? Then she begins moving on me, and this is all that matters. I suck deep on a tight nipple, loving the way she gasps, and her tight cunt clutches at me in time with my mouth working her. She comes, and fuck. It’s hard not to come with her but I’m not ready yet. No, I need more of this. More of her breathy little moans and whimpers.