The Italian Dom by N.J. Adel
CHAPTER 30
Domenico
I underestimated my little kitten. Not only had she not asked for help with the sanguinaccio, not once, but also she managed to swallow two bites before her eyes were red fighting tears.
“This’s really disgusting.” She pushed her plate aside for a reprieve and stared at the dishes I made—I threw in a cacio e pepe and puntarelle soup, too—and placed right in front of me on the table. “How much more do I have to eat?”
“The whole thing,” I said, too amused.
“The fuck? Aren’t you gonna have some, too?”
I shook my head. “Only kids eat that shit around here.”
“Then why did you tell me to make it?” she fumed.
I got off my seat and went over to her. Then I slouched against the table and gazed at her now crimson face. “Because the color of your cheeks when you’re mad is the second prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Then I bent to her ear. “Your little, wet, pink pussy is the first.”
She shuddered, and then slowly, her gaze trained on me, on my naked upper body, on the low waistband of my pants that showed my hips, and stole a glance at my groin before she dragged her eyes away.
I touched her earlobe with my fingertips. “You always look at me like I’m something forbidden to have, to even crave. You know it doesn’t have to be like that. It won’t be for long anyway. Sooner or later you’ll have to accept I’m the only man for you.”
She shrugged away from my touch. “I don’t…crave you.”
An impatient sigh seeped out of me. Then my fingers moved to the back of her neck and untied the apron. Her hands flew to hold the only piece of fabric shielding her from me, but I snatched it off her, leaving her exposed, a delicious meal for my eyes only.
When she still hid her tits from me with her palms, the last of my patience died. I grabbed her hands away from her chest and pinched her nipples. She hissed a couple of gasps, glaring at me.
I didn’t give a shit. I twisted her hard nipples more. “I hate your insolence as much as I hate your lies. You crave my body so much it’s eating you on the inside. I can see it as clear as day, so don’t bother lying about it because it’ll only make me want to punish you more, and you know I can do that all day, every day.”
She winced, her nostrils flaring, but then she gave a terse nod.
“And I told you before you can’t fucking stop me if I decide to be inside you. I’m leaving you untouched because I say so not because you’re protecting yourself from me, so when I tell you to be naked, you be naked or I won’t make myself wait anymore, and there will be absolutely nothing you can do about it, capito?”
Her body frothed with anger and hate. “Yes, I understand.”
I released one of her nipples, and then, holding her gaze, I locked my lips around it and sucked.
Her lips parted with a soft hiss before she gulped, her thighs rubbing against each other. “Please…don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I squeezed her tit and lapped it with my tongue. “Suck your beautiful nipples so good your pussy is clenching wet from it?”
She sighed in surrender, pulling her thighs together harder. “Yes.”
“Why, little kitten?”
“Because it’s not real. How my body reacts to you isn’t real.”
“No. It is real.” I feasted on her tit, the feeling of her flesh in my hand and the taste of it in my mouth driving me insane. “As real as it gets.”
She closed her eyes, sorrow clouding her face. “You don’t know anything, Dom. Just, please, stop.”
She was wrong. I knew everything. She thought I didn’t understand, but I understood more than anyone. When you were young and defenseless, you only had your mind to protect you. Your imagination, your make-believe. But sometimes those were more brutal than the monsters. At least, the monsters didn’t lie, but our minds would. We lied to ourselves to survive.
What she felt for me wasn’t a lie, though. I wouldn’t allow it to be.
I kissed her breast and let go. “I want you to forget what happened to you, what he did to you, with me.”
“It can’t be forgotten. You’ll only replace the marks the monster left on my soul by yours.” She met my gaze. “Just like Tino did with my sister.”
“You’re not your sister, and I’m not Tino Bellomo.” I straightened my back and squeezed her shoulder before I spun toward my seat. “Soon enough you’ll see that for yourself.”
I felt her eyes on my back as I put a serving of chicken and pasta in a plate. When I turned to place it in front of her, she pretended she wasn’t looking. I moved my chair next to hers and sat. Then I dipped a fork in the pasta and moved it close to her mouth.
She licked her lips and gave a little moan. Then she grabbed her own fork. “You don’t have to feed me. Some women find that romantic, but I don’t.”
“Me neither.” I devoured the rich pasta and moaned myself. “Squisito. This is really good.”
She gaped at me, the lovely color of her anger painting her cheeks. “What the… Are you for real?”
“Oh yes. I’ll leave you some so you can taste it for yourself…if you finish your sanguinaccio.”
“Has anybody ever told you how much of a fucking twatwaffle, asshole you are?”
I filled my mouth with chicken, which was as good as the pasta. “Tante volte.”
“Hypothetically, if I accidentally dropped your fucking plates, what would be my punishment? Eat it off the floor?”
“No. You’d clean it up without having a single taste. Then I’d throw away the other dish you don’t like so much, and you’d spend another day hungry because obviously you’re not hungry enough.”
“I figured. So how about you answer me another question?”
“Shoot.”
“How did your parents die?”
I stopped chewing as I got what she was doing. If I wouldn’t let her eat, she’d make me lose my appetite. Smart, little kitten. But not smart enough to know I’d suffered enough losses not to shed a tear or lose sleep or appetite over anything anymore.
I swallowed my food and another spoonful. “My father was poisoned.”
“Wow. That’s…awful. By whom?”
“His wife.”
“What? You mean your mom?”
I shook my head, almost finishing my plate. My hunger for Nicky didn’t make me realize I was starving for real food as well until now. “His other wife. Actually, my real father never married my mother. He…made his brother do it for him.”
“Excuse me?”
I shot a glance at her. “You heard me the first time.”
“But I don’t understand. Your father made his brother marry your mother and give you his name?”
“So I wouldn’t be a bastardo, si, except that doesn’t change the fact that I am.”
“What…I mean… Was it because he was already married?”
“No. That’s what always tore at my mother. He was in love with her, or so he told her, but he had to marry a different woman per la famiglia to keep the peace. My mother wasn’t the daughter of a powerful capo. She was a simple village girl. She stood no chance against Marta.”
“Marta…Lanza?” She blinked in shock. “As in Giovanni Lanza’s wife, Enzio Lanza’s mom?”
That stopped me from finishing up my food. “How do you know that name? She wasn’t at the wedding, and I never told you anything about her.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear even though it was secure in its bun. “I…um…when Lina and I first moved in with Tino, I was doing some digging on Leo. There was a mention of Marta’s funeral in San Francisco where he and Tino attended…”
I grunted. I shouldn’t have said that name. It’d take Nicky two second to put two and two together.
“That makes Giovanni Lanza, your capo’s father, yours too. That makes you Enzio’s brother, not cousin,” she said.
“Allora, first Enzio is our capo, not just mine. Second, and you can’t babble about this to anyone or I’ll have to cut your tongue out, even though Giovanni was my father, Enzio is still my cousin.”
She stared at me for a few moments before she put her hand over her mouth as she seemed to have figured it out. “Marta was a bitch.”
“We don’t speak ill of the dead.”
“Are you serious? You must have hated her for what she did to your mom and killing your dad.”
“She got what she deserved. Now she’s with her maker.”
“I didn’t know you were so religious,” she mocked. “Hold on a sec, how is Enzio still your cousin? Did she sleep with—”
“Another uncle? Si, si.”
“Holy fuck.” She leaned back in her seat, grabbing a piece of sanguinaccio. “So let me get this straight, Giovanni was capo, and when he died, Enzio, as his son, took over, but if Enzio isn’t actually Giovanni’s son, doesn’t that make you the rightful heir to the kingdom?”
“Don’t go there, little kitten.”
She took a bite of the blood sausage. “Why not?”
“Because we protect our honor at all costs.” I dropped my fork and rose. “And I fucking hate traitors.”
“Why would your claiming your right make you a traitor?”
I banged the table with my palm. “Why the fuck do you care? Don’t you hate our kind, what we do and live for? Why suddenly too ambitious to rule?”
She flinched. “I’m not, and I don’t give a shit about your bloody thrones. I was just trying to understand.”
“Allora, understand this. Without honor and loyalty, we’re nothing. We can’t allow our dirty secrets to come out or the Lanzas will be destroyed. Enzio is Capo, and he’ll do whatever it takes to protect his honor and the family’s, that includes killing whoever threatens either.”
“He’d kill his own cousin?”
“Yes, like he killed his own twin brother when he thought he betrayed la famiglia. If I were Capo, I’d kill me, too. Because if I went ahead and tried to claim what was mine like you suggested, I’d be a traitor, pissing all over our mothers’ honor like that. And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that no traitor in our family has lived long enough to enjoy whatever little gains they thought they’d get for their treason.
“So hear this because I won’t repeat it again. I will never betray my cousin for a deadly ambition, a seat to a burnt kingdom because that’s exactly what I’m gonna get, a burnt kingdom to rule. That’s if I don’t get Il Tagliatore’s knife in my heart first. I choose to be loyal to my capo and protect la famiglia’s honor as the Lanzas’ enforcer and soon underboss. Nothing more. So knock it off. That little game you’re trying to play is dangerous, and even I won’t be able to protect you from the consequences.”