Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
She deserves the world, and I vow to give it to her. I can’t change—not completely, but for her, I will fight every day to make her see that she means the world. She once said I was the perfect villain. Maybe with time, she can be my beautiful monster.
“Shit, Christian,” she whines through clenched teeth.
Her moan pulls me from my thoughts. I lift up off her, and when my vision focuses on her, a guttural groan builds in my throat because her release is written all over her face. She’s close, hanging on the edge of ecstasy, falling apart at the seams.
“Fuck, Siân. You’re so tight. Your pretty little cunt so hungry for me.”
“Ohhhhh. Yeah. Yeah. Right there.”
I grunt while gripping her waist and pounding into her, my rhythm never wavering. Over and over, I hit the same spot, and her body thanks me for it by gripping my cock and convulsing around me.
Leaning down, I plant a kiss on her belly. “I love you, topolina.”
The moment those four words leave my mouth, she explodes around me, thrashing and riding the wave of her orgasms.
“Oh, fuckkkkkkk,” she screams.
“Good girl, soak my dick,” I demand while thrusting into her once finally time before filling her with my load.
EPILOGUE - SIN
“You were so excited about getting your surprise today, but now you're taking your time.” Christian's voice floats my way from where he's waiting outside. It's cute seeing him this enthusiastic. He's not the hard, cold mafia boss. He's not the heartless assassin, either.
He's been my husband for the past seven months, and it's moments like this that prove to me he’s a child at heart.
It's a pleasure, even a privilege, the chance to see him like this. Nobody who doesn't know him the way I do would ever believe he's capable of such sweetness and thoughtfulness. Playfulness, too. It's easy to forget sometimes who I'm really living with.
Of course, that part of him is never far from the forefront. Business concerns tend to pop up constantly, but they don't seem to carry the same weight as before. I'll never forget Samuele’s cold, imposing way of conducting his life. He was a bully, violent and hateful. With him out of the picture, the bloodshed has ceased. At least for now, much to my surprise.
“Don't forget, things can change on a dime.” Christian has reminded me of that more than once—most recently, a few nights ago, while we were lying in bed watching the baby kick me until I was sure they broke something. He placed a hand on my belly, laughing in approval when his child delivered a hearty kick in response to his touch. “But now, with a family to protect, I'll be less inclined to respond with violence. I would rather keep the peace for your sake than display a trophy case full of severed heads.”
While the image he conjured wasn't exactly charming, I understood the point, and it means the world to me. We mean that much to him. He's not power-hungry or greedy the way his father was. He's not a pushover—he won't give up what’s his—but he's not inclined to reach for more, no matter what the price.
“Siân! We still have to pick up Cynthia. She'll be waiting.”
“I don't move as fast as I used to, or have you forgotten?” That's an understatement. I'm practically waddling now, only a handful of weeks from my due date. I didn't think it would be possible for my body to get this big and swollen. It's almost supernatural. If we hadn't already gotten confirmation from the doctor, I would swear there's more than one baby in here. With Christian being a twin, it wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility. I guess the only explanation is I'm going to give birth to a linebacker, then.
“I guess Grandma can't be annoyed if that's why we're running late.” Over these last seven months, Christian and Cynthia's relationship has improved to the point where he can refer to her as the baby's grandmother without rolling his eyes or gritting his teeth, or otherwise demonstrating bitterness or hostility. He doesn't want the baby to know the kind of tension and strife he did when he was little. If it means getting past what's already come between them, he's willing to do it.
So is Cynthia, which comes as an even bigger surprise. If ever anyone could hold a grudge, it's her. Now I understand the reason for the grudge she held against the Russos, at least. That makes the civil, if not exactly warm, relationship she and Christian now enjoy that much more precious in my eyes. I'm sure with time, things will warm up even more.
I manage to wait until I’m in the car before peppering him with questions. “Will you at least tell me where we're going? Is it a place, or are we going to pick up something? Will it fit in the car? Is it for the baby?”