Page 139 of Ruined By Blood
I narrow my eyes. "You think Noah's at the fucking opera because of your wedding violinist?"
Damiano shrugs, his expression innocent but his eyescalculating. "Our Noah, developing cultural interests. Stranger things have happened."
"Like you becoming a father?" I shoot back.
He grins, the rare, genuine smile that only thoughts of Zoe and Sofia can bring out. "Exactly like that."
I drain my whiskey, setting the glass down with a decisive click. Noah's private life is his business. As long as he handles the shipment, I don't give a fuck if he's suddenly developed a passion for opera, ballet, or underwater basket weaving.
"Anything else you need me for?" I ask.
Damiano shakes his head. "No. Go back to Sienna."
"That's the plan." I stand, straightening my jacket. "Tell Zoe we'll see you Sunday for dinner."
As I walk out of the casino into the bright morning light, I find myself wondering about Noah. The man's a ghost. Appearing when needed, vanishing when not. The idea of him sitting in a concert hall, listening to classical music, seems absurdly out of character.
But then again, who would have predicted I'd be settled, planning Sunday family dinners?
Life takes unexpected turns.
Sunday morning light filters through our bedroom windows, painting golden patterns across Sienna's skin. Her hair spreads across my chest like dark silk, her breathing soft and even as she wakes. I watch her eyes flutter open, that moment of confusion before recognition settles in, followed by the smile that still fucking wrecks me every time.
"Morning," she whispers, voice husky with sleep.
I tangle my fingers in her hair, tugging gently to tilt her face up. "Morning, piccola."
She stretches against me like a cat, all soft curves and warm skin. The sheet slips down, exposing her shoulder.
"What time is family dinner?" she mumbles against my neck.
"Not until four." I slide my hand down her spine, feeling each vertebra beneath my fingers. "We have hours."
Her lips curve against my skin. "Hours for what?"
I roll her beneath me in one fluid motion, caging her with my body. "For whatever you want."
The smile that spreads across her face holds none of the fear that haunted her when we first met. There's mischief there now, confidence. She pushes against my chest until I roll onto my back, watching as she straddles me, her thighs bracketing my hips.
"What if I want to be in charge this morning?" she asks, trailing her fingers down my chest.
Heat surges through me, my cock hardening instantly beneath her. "Then take what's yours."
Her eyes darken as she leans down, her hair creating a curtain around us as she brushes her lips against mine. "Mine," she whispers, the word still new on her tongue.
My hands find her hips, steadying her as she shifts her weight. "Yours," I agree, voice rough with wanting her.
She kisses me slow and deep, her tongue sliding against mine as her body presses closer. I let her lead, giving her the control. My reward is the soft sound she makes when I slide my hands up her sides to cup her breasts.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Matteo's name. I ignore it, focusing instead on the way Sienna's breath catches when I brush my thumbs across her nipples.
"Your phone," she murmurs against my lips.
"Don't care," I reply, capturing her mouth again.
She smiles into the kiss, rolling her hips in a way that makes me groan. Just as she positions herself to take me inside her, the phone buzzes again. Matteo. Again.
"Might be important," she says, though her body remains poised above mine.
