Becoming His Wife by Hayley Faiman

Chapter Thirty-Three

TIZIANO

Idon’t take Maci back to my townhouse, even though now that my father is gone so is most of the threat against us. I don’t take her back there for a few reasons.

One is that her things are at Salvatore’s, the other is that I don’t know who of my father’s men would try to take me out. We all need a good night’s sleep after today.

Tomorrow, we can see about moving into our actual home, but not until I know it’s safe. Maci and the baby are my number one priority and I have a fucking takeover to handle. It may not be safe for them to come for a while.

“Tiziano,” she says, sleepily calling out my name.

I hum, turning my head to look over at her. She’s curled up next to me, her hands beneath her cheek, her eyes focused on mine. I didn’t fuck her when we got home. We showered, ate, and she fell asleep next to me. I left her there to rest, my mind spinning too rapidly to even begin thinking of sleep.

“What is it, zuccherino?” I whisper.

“When the dust has settled, I’d like to talk about Mia again,” she murmurs.

I blink in surprise. Mia. I haven’t seen her, let alone even thought about her since returning back here. It shouldn’t shock me so much that Maci has thought about her, especially because of the relationship Mia and I shared, and the fact that Mia was the one that she was around in the beginning.

“What do you wish to discuss?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and even.

She licks her lips, watching me for a long moment before she speaks. “She told me, similarly to your father, that my place is at your side—silently at your side,” she begins.

I don’t interrupt her, because I’m curious as to what she thinks about that. I feel as though things have shifted between us since our wedding day. She’s no longer just this young girl that I purchased with my famiglia name, with power exchanging hands instead of money.

She was alone, kidnapped, and torn away from me, and yet she still wanted only me. She stayed true to me when she could have done as she wished as a single woman. She’s carrying my child, something she could have easily denied me knowing about, let alone becoming part of.

“I don’t want to be a silent figurine at your side,” she announces.

She pushes herself up to a seated position, her blonde hair a tousled, beautiful mess as she looks down at me. Her gaze finds mine and she focuses, she doesn’t look anywhere else, nobody else exists in this world but me, and I swear to fuck I will do whatever I can to ensure that she always looks at me this way, until my dying breath.

“Do you think that’s what you are to me?” I ask, more out of curiosity’s sake than anything else. “Just as something to stand beside me?”

She watches me for a long moment, then tilts her head to the side. “Isn’t that what my purpose was meant to be?”

My lips curve up into a grin and I laugh softly. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and tug her closer to me. Touching my lips to hers, I don’t deepen the kiss. I hold them there and let out a sigh against her mouth.

“It was,” I admit honestly. “It’s not anymore. You’re my partner, Maci. You’ve earned your place at my side.”

She pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine. “I have? How?”

Smiling, I shake my head. “Zuccherino, every second of every day you have proved that this is where you belong, at my side, not anywhere else. Not on a shelf, tucked away, not hidden, and not silent.”

“Tiziano,” she exhales.

I hum, shifting so that I’m closer to her again and touch my lips to hers. This time I don’t just breathe against her, I kiss her. Sliding my tongue inside of her mouth, I take her, I consume her just as she always consumes me.

Nibbling her bottom lip, I kiss down her jaw, then her throat, sucking on one of her nipples, then the other. Maci starts breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling as she arches her back, pushing her tits closer to me.

I growl, sucking on her flesh, tasting her and never wanting to quit. If my cock didn’t ache so goddamn badly, I would stay just like this, devouring her heavy tits, but I need to be inside of her.

Guiding her onto her knees, I wrap my hands around her hips as I shift my body behind her. Sliding my palm up the center of her back, I tangle my fingers in her hair before I tug her head backward. She lets out a gasp, her neck arching as she looks upside down at me.

“Please,” she whimpers.

Slipping my fingers between her legs, I swirl them around her throbbing clit, then pump them in and out of her slowly before I return to her clit. Maci swivels her hips, searching for more. I chuckle, my eyes connected to hers. I can see the need in her gaze, that please isn’t her trying to be sexy, that please is almost a demand for what her body needs.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“So bad,” she cries out.

I hum, not willing to give her exactly what she wants, what she needs, not yet at least. I want to watch her, I want to build her up, more and more until she loses all control. I want to see it, feel it, all.

I continue to play with her, pumping my fingers in and out of her, swirling them against her clit and applying just enough pressure that she won’t be able to find her release, it will stay just out of reach.

“Tiziano,” she says sharply.

Deciding she’s had enough torture, I align myself with her center and slowly sink inside of her from behind. Instead of keeping my hand tangled in her hair, I release her hair and wrap my fingers around the front of her throat.

I pump in and out of her slowly, my other hand I press against her clit, applying pressure but not moving. My fingers squeeze around her throat, but not hard enough to cut off any real air. I wouldn’t do that to her in this condition—not ever.

“Fuck,” I hiss. “You feel amazing.”

She shivers, pushing back, her ass meeting my thrust forward. I close my eyes, my lips parting as her pussy flutters around me.

“Zuccherino,” I sigh. “Fucking amazing, Maci.”

She starts to move faster, her control completely gone. Opening my eyes, I look into hers, unable to look away as she searches for and finds her release. It’s fucking gorgeous, amazing, as she comes, her cunt squeezing me so tight, begging for me to stay right where I am.

I don’t.

With a growl, it’s my turn. Keeping my hand against her clit, my other one wrapped around her throat—I fuck my wife.

Well, my ex-wife.

MACI

With a satisfied sigh,I open my eyes. Stretching, I moan at the aches in my body. It’s amazing. Tiziano knows exactly what I need, when I need it and last night was perfect. Pushing up, I look over to the side of the bed and frown.

Again, he’s gone.

Tiziano is never here when I wake up in the morning. I don’t know where he goes or why, but I’ve yet to wake up with him wrapped around me, at least not since our honeymoon. Sliding my legs over the edge of the bed, I stand up and hurry to the bathroom.

Thankfully, I don’t feel the urge to vomit anymore, that was the absolute worst. Once I finish my business, I grab my silk robe. I see Tiziano’s discarded shirt from yesterday and think about putting it on, but decide against it once I see the drops of blood.

Bending down, I grab the shirt and throw it in the hamper. I make a mental note to throw it away when I do the wash, hoping that Tiziano doesn’t ever miss it. He doesn’t need the physical reminder that he killed his own father.

When I’ve sufficiently hidden the shirt, I make my way down to the main level, in search of Tiziano. It doesn’t take me long to find him. He’s sitting at the small kitchen table, shirtless, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Tiziano?” I call out when he doesn’t turn around.

I’m afraid that he hasn’t heard me walk into the room and I don’t want to scare him. I learned when I first moved in here with Salvatore that you should never walk up behind a Made Man without announcing yourself. It’s the fastest way to get a gun pointed at your head.

He turns his head to look at me, but his eyes don’t connect with mine. He’s a million miles away and when I really look at him, I can’t help but wonder if he’s slept at all.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly.

His shoulder jerks and he shakes his head as if to shake away his thoughts. I have no doubt that they are thoughts about yesterday, about everything that has happened.

“I need to go to my father’s men today and announce my takeover,” he states.

“What happens then?”

He shrugs a shoulder, but he knows that I want to know—that I need to understand what is really going on with him, with the future.

“What happens is they either accept me as their boss or they die.” His voice is cold, emotionless, but the emotion that fills his eyes, he is feeling all of this deeply.

“Are you sure you want to do that? Is there another way?” I ask.

He shakes his head slowly. “It’s the way of the famiglia, Macy. We may not do everything the same, but some things cannot be helped. Loyalty is one of them. If they cannot pledge their loyalty to me as their boss, then I cannot trust them.”

“Can they trust you?” I ask.

I know it is the wrong question to ask. His eyes narrow on me and his entire body language changes. He sits up straighter, his back almost arched and he leans forward slightly. I watch as his nostrils flare in what I can assume is complete anger.

“My father died because he put a hit out on a Made Man with no fucking reasoning other than he thought I was going to hand over the Bianchi famiglia to Gavino. He didn’t ask me anything, didn’t bother to find out what the terms of my contract were. He kidnapped you and gave you to Gavino to whore out, forcing a bullshit annulment. I am not my father.”

“I know you aren’t,” I whisper.

Tiziano nods his head. “I’m not my father, but he wouldn’t have stopped. He didn’t believe me, he wasn’t rational. Being irrational wasn’t the reason he died, Maci. It was the fact that he put a hit on a Made Man with not a single fucking boss in New York backing him. You don’t just kill Made Men and you really don’t kill ones that are next in line to take over.”

“Okay,” I say with a nod.

He stands, walking swiftly toward me. I gasp when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. He dips his chin, touching his mouth to mine. He’s not as rigid as he was just seconds ago, and my eyes close at the feel of his body against mine and his breath fanning my face.

“Nobody fucks with me, Maci. Not a single goddamn person. I was a pussy for far too long. It’s done now, and these men, they’re going to know that I intend on being a goddamn boss.”

He doesn’t allow me to respond, though I’m not sure what I would say anyway. Instead, he bends down, wraps his hands around the backs of my thighs and picks me up. He turns me around, setting my ass against the edge of the table.

Gripping his shoulders, my nails dig into his bare flesh. I feel his hands moving between us, then he’s inside of me. I’m not wet enough, but he doesn’t stop. He buries himself completely inside of me, his breathing coming out fast as he stills, looking into my eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, he lifts one of his hands to my lips and slips two fingers into my mouth. I suck and lick on them, unsure of what he’s doing, but the fierceness in his eyes dares me to question—I don’t.

Slipping his hand from my mouth he shifts between us and I feel his wet fingers against my clit. My breath hitches at the sensation, which causes his lips to curve up into a grin. Wordlessly, he plays with me, until I can’t stay still a moment longer. I move as much as I can, moaning with each shift and tilt of my hips.

“Fuck yourself, zuccherino. Fuck yourself, then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you spend the whole goddamn day in bed aching from me.”