Page 112 of Always Mine
AJ visited often during my stay, and he told me that he’d had suspicions since our first meeting that we were family. My uncanny resemblance to his uncle, Chiara’s dad, the fact that I had the same color eyes as him and Chiara, and the fact that his dad, Gino, held Samuel in the highest esteem. That level of respect was telling of the size of the sacrifice he must have made for the family. Unlike Chiara, he hadn’t noticed my necklace, but as soon as she showed him, he knew with certainty what it meant. If I think back to some of our conversations, I can see he was trying to tell me that, no matter what, I had his protection too. The shooter from the night of the gala is still in the wind, but AJ assures me he’s personally dealing with it with the help of friends in high places. That’s it. No further detail. I offered to help with tracking and surveillance, buthe’s adamant he doesn’t want me anywhere near it. He also agreed to share a bit about the family I know nothing about—enough crumbs to help me understand some of the family history, but not anything that puts me too deep into things I’m not sure I want any part of. And given the man doesn’t usually trust anyone, even his own shadow, I am grateful I’ve earned it. To piss off Chiara, he saved himself as Number One Cousin in my phone contacts—a self-appointed title she’s not happy about at all. But I digress.
After those first few weeks in hospital, I moved back into my own home to continue my recovery. Sophia has been by my side for everything. Every medical appointment, every nightmare that left me soaked through with sweat, every outburst of frustration during physical therapy. The ups and downs have been many for us both as she’s juggled all my medical appointments with the work involved to build a case against Arty. It’s early days yet, but she has the full backing of Princi & Associates, and the women in the video have all agreed to testify, with a few more having come forward after the news of the night’s events hit mainstream media. As expected, Arty announced his decision to step away from his position as partner at his firm while he “proves his innocence,” which is the official line.
From what Sophia has told me, the accusations are stacking up. Even so, he’s from a powerful family, so it’s going to be a dogfight to the very end. If anyone can do it, it’s my girl. And now that the Law Gala is over, and I’m feeling much stronger, both mentally and physically, all my plans are in motion to officially make her mine forever. We’ve already weathered so much of the bad together. I want any excuse to celebrate all the good things our future holds.
During one of Patrick’s hospital visits a few weeks back, I asked his permission to marry his daughter, which he gave freely and happily. And yet knowing me well enough, he said while he appreciated the respect shown to ask, it was a mere formality because he knew nothing was going to stop me from marrying his daughter—especially not him. We shared a laugh, and in that moment, it struck me that he too had been carrying my secret for three decades. It had to be a heavy burden to bear, especiallyonce it was clear his daughter was destined to marry that boy one day. He also apologized once more for his actions past and present and admitted he had been judgmental and said some unforgivable things when he should have listened to my concerns about Arty. He asked if when I was ready, we could start to rebuild our relationship as friends and family. I accepted his apologies and agreed to leave the past behind us and focus on the future. One which hopefully includes giving him many grandchildren.
Despite the chat thread Chiara started, the real plan for tonight is for our nearest and dearest friends and family to all join us for a celebration dinner, before our group heads to Bella Donna to carry on the party. Thank God for Chiara, Evie, and Stella, because I can categorically say party planning is not my forte. I did, however, manage to organize the most important thing—the ring. It has been burning a hole through my sock drawer since before the night of the Law Gala. I had intended to propose on that night, but you know what they say about best laid plans. Thankfully for my nerves, today is the day it’ll find its final resting place on Sophia’s finger.
“Marco, what time do we need to be at dinner with our parents tonight?” asks Sophia, walking into the room wearing my white t-shirt slightly falling off her shoulder and a plain black thong. Her face is make-up free, and her hair is thrown up into a messy bun on her head. Undone, unbothered, unbelievably gorgeous in no bra and bare feet. All the blood rushes to my dick. I’ve finally been given the all clear to go back to light training and, thanks to all that is holy, sex is finally back on the table. “I don’t think I can tell you,” I say nonchalantly as I turn my head to look at her.
“What? Why?” she pouts, stopping in her tracks and putting her hands on her hips, only further highlighting the curve of her breasts and the peak of her nipples. “I need to know so I can be ready on time—especially since you always complain I’m never ready on time.”
“I can’t tell you because you’re too far away from me. You only get answers when I get what I want,” I tell her, a devilish grin spreading slowly on my face.
“What exactly do you want?” she says, sauntering towards me, making a show of swaying her hips.
I beckon her with my finger until she’s standing at the end of the chaise, with a front row view of the party in my pants. I extend my arm out for her to take and help her climb onto my lap.
“Marco! I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Don’t worry, baby. The plans I have for you will do just the opposite,” I say as I help adjust her in a position that doesn’t put pressure on the almost healed, but still tender, gunshot wound.
Fisting my t-shirt she’s wearing, I pull her in for a kiss, not letting up until we’re both breathless, and she can’t stop herself from grinding on my rock-hard erection.
“Oh my God! I’ve missed this so much.”
“Me too, Kitten. But you know what I’ve missed even more?”
“What?”
“The taste of you on my tongue as you ride my face.”
I shimmy my body down slightly, as I push on her ass to tell her to move up and straddle my face instead.
She complies but voices her concern about hurting me. Hushing her, I quickly strip the t-shirt from her body and push her thong all the way to the side, before returning both hands under her ass cheeks to support her.
I give her one long, firm lick from back to front, swirling my tongue around her clit the way I know she likes.
We moan in unison, both having missed the chemistry of our physical connection. I give her lush ass cheek a firm slap.
“Oh God!” she whimpers.
“Ride my face, baby. Let me make this pussy rain with that holy water. I’ve heard it’s got incredible healing powers.”
Her responding giggle quickly turns into needy moans as I alternate between licking, sucking, and tongue fucking her until she’sriding my face with abandon and blessing me with her precious holy water.
Home sweet home.
Chapter seventy-nine
For Better Or Worse
Sophia
Afterspendingtherestof the day lost in each other, reconnecting on an intimate and physical level we’ve craved but couldn’t indulge in for the last month, I feel euphoric. With every ounce of pleasure Marco wrung out of me, the stress, anxiety, and worry balled up in my stomach like a lead balloon melted away. Even when it should be me comforting him and making him feel good, he prioritizes me. We’ve had to walk up some big mountains to get us to today, but there is no one else I would rather traverse the rocky terrains with than this man right here. We made our way from the lounge room to the bedroom, where we’re currently lying amongst twisted sheets enjoying our post-orgasm glow. Stroking my hair as I lay my head on his chest and trace his tattoos with my fingertips, Marco kisses the top of my head before breaking the comfortable silence in the room.
“To answer your question, we need to be at dinner by 6 p.m., so by my calculation you have almost ninety minutes to get ready.”
