63

MILLIE
The truth that had been harbored within me surged forth, a testament to my agency and conviction. “You didn’t, Gio. I was born into this world. I chose to stay in this world.” Echoes of our wedding day resurfaced, words that resonated with the inescapable reality of our circumstances. “Being born into our world means being born with blood on your hands. With every breath we take, sin is engraved deeper into our skin.”
Amid the weight of our shared experiences, Gio’s perspective found voice, infused with a raw sincerity. “You don’t have a choice. There’s no way to escape our world. You didn’t have a choice in marrying me either. If you’d let that bullet kill me, you would have at least escaped our marriage.”
The complexity of our lives was a tapestry woven with threads of duty, necessity, and love. “There are few good things in our world, Gio, and if you find one you cling to it with all your might. You are one of those good things in my life.”
Desperation tinged his words, a plea for understanding, for acceptance. “I’m not good,” Gio confessed, his voice laced with an urgency that bespoke his inner turmoil.
“You’re not a good man, no. But you are good for me. I feel safe in your arms. I don’t know why, don’t even know why I love you, but I do, and that won’t change.” The admission bore a steadfastness that transcended the confines of logic, an unswerving devotion that weathered the storms of doubt and darkness.
With a sigh, Gio’s eyelids descended, an air of resignation about him. His words hung heavy in the room, dripping with the weight of his world’s grim reality. “Love in our realm is akin to venturing into treacherous waters-a vulnerability that a leader like me cannot afford.”
I nodded, though a lump formed in my throat that seemed to strangle my voice.
Abruptly, Gio’s eyes shot open, a fire of emotion blazing within them. “Yet, I find myself disregarding those risks, for loving you is the sole pristine thing amidst the chaos of my existence.”
The intensity of his confession welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. “You… you love me?”
His gaze held mine, unflinching and intense. “Yes, despite the forbidden territory it treads. Were my adversaries to fathom the depth of my affection for you, they would stop at nothing to exploit you, to wound me through you, to seize control by putting you in their crosshairs. The Bratva will persist, as will others. From the moment I became a made man, I pledged allegiance to the Familia above all, and I reaffirmed that allegiance when I rose to the rank of Capo dei Capi, even though I knew my vow was a falsehood. The Familia should always be my paramount allegiance.”
I held my breath, words failing me. The expression he fixed upon me was so profound that it felt as if he was peering into my very soul.
“However,” he continued, his voice unwavering, “you are my exception, Millie. I would set the world ablaze, if necessary. I’d wield violence and manipulation without hesitation. I’d do the unthinkable for you. Love, perhaps, is a gamble, yet it’s a gamble I am ready to stake everything on. As you mentioned, it’s not a choice; it’s a compulsion. I never anticipated, never even fathomed that I could love in this way, but then I fell in love with you. I waged war against this sentiment, but it’s the first battle I welcomed defeat in.”
Overwhelmed, I flung my arms around him, tears streaming down my cheeks, only to wince as a sharp pain shot through my shoulder. Gio gently withdrew, concern etching his features. “You need to rest. Your body needs time to heal,” he advised, guiding me to lie down, though my grip on his arms remained steadfast.
“I don’t wish to rest. I want to make love to you,” I admitted, my voice trembling.
Gio’s expression twisted with a mix of yearning and anguish. “I fear I might cause you pain. Your stitches could tear.”
My fingers traced a path down his chest and over his firm abdomen until I encountered the hint of a bulge beneath his boxers. “He’s in agreement with me.”
Gio managed a half-hearted grin, his gaze conflicted. “He always is, but he isn’t exactly the voice of reason, trust me.”
A soft giggle escaped my lips, though a twinge of pain immediately followed.
Gio remained near, his face a mere breath away from mine. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Please,” I whispered urgently. “I want this. I’ve yearned for it for so long.”
“You have to understand, Millie, that I’ve always made love to you,” he stated with sincerity.
My throat tightened, and I summoned the courage to trace my fingers along Gio’s length through the thin fabric. He didn’t recoil from my touch. “Don’t you desire this?”
“Desire courses through me relentlessly. We nearly lost each other. There’s nothing I desire more than to be as intimately close to you as possible.”
“Then make love to me,” I entreated, my voice fervent. “Slowly, tenderly.”
A low, raspy reply escaped Gio’s lips, laden with a promise. “Slow and gentle,” he vowed, giving in to my plea. He shifted downward on the bed, his touch transforming into a gentle massage of my feet and calves. My legs instinctively spread apart, causing my nightgown to ride up, revealing the lace of my delicate white panties to Gio’s gaze. His eyes traveled upward, and I could sense his understanding of my longing and desperation. A guttural sound of desire escaped him as he pressed his lips to my ankle before trailing his fingers upward, barely grazing my skin until he brushed my core with his fingertips. The fabric of my panties adhered to my heated center, slick with want.
“You make it quite challenging to uphold ‘slow and gentle’,” Gio admitted, his voice strained. “If not for your injury, I’d lose myself in you, making you scream my name.”
A surge of heat flushed my cheeks, but my determination held firm. “If I weren’t hurt, I’d want nothing more.”
Gio’s touch was a seductive dance, a tantalizing exploration that sent shivers up my spine. His lips found my ankle, his tongue leaving a trail of fire, before he delicately drew my skin into the warmth of his mouth. The word “Mine” escaped his lips, possessive and intimate.
With a hunger in his eyes, he embarked on a journey of kisses, claiming every inch of my legs with a repeated mantra of ownership. Slowly, his path ascended towards the core of my being. The whisper of fabric being removed, a sensation of vulnerability settled between us, and he nestled himself between my legs. His breath, a sultry caress, met my heated flesh. The mix of anticipation and desire arched my body, but a sudden pang of pain jolted through me.
He sensed my unease. “Relax completely,” he murmured, his words a brush of sensation that stirred arousal. “Let go of all tension. Only then can you fully enjoy.”
I replied playfully, admitting my tendencies under such circumstances. “I tend to tense up, especially when I’m close. And right now, I’m really, really close.”
A determined resolve graced his expression, as if he took on a challenge he was more than ready for. The unspoken exchange thrived in the air, his silent vow to prove himself.
Maybe I should challenge him more often, I mused. His touches, like the faintest whisper of a ghost, danced over my skin. His kisses and playful licks stirred a need that coiled within me. In this delicate dance of pleasure, my muscles gradually unclenched, and my mind succumbed to a cocoon of bliss. Amidst the hushed symphony of my moans and Gio’s tender administrations, the knot of desire wound tighter and tighter within me. Every sweep of his tongue teased it further, until it unfurled, and my climax cascaded through me like liquid gold. My body released a long-held breath as Gio prolonged the ecstasy with the gentlest of touches.
Through a haze that had nothing to do with painkillers, I watched him rise from his position. He discarded his boxers, his masculinity evident and inviting. I lay there, a bundle of languid satisfaction, as he hovered over me. His entrance was a slow exploration, every inch of him stretching me, filling me. A drawn-out moan bore witness to the pleasure-pain of his possession.
“Mine,” he uttered in a voice that trembled with reverence.
Our gazes locked, an unspoken understanding exchanged in that moment. As he withdrew partially and then slid back in, the rhythm of our connection mirrored the path we were embarking on. A path shrouded in darkness and uncertainty, a life of danger and sacrifice, where every day could be our last. The future held a grim possibility of bidding farewell to Gio in the most tragic of ways. But despite it all, this was the world we had chosen, and Gio was the man I had chosen. I was resolute; I would walk this treacherous path beside him until the very end.
Amidst our shared passion, my hand sought out the tattoo over his heart. With every beat, I could feel his devotion resonate against my palm. A smile tugged at my lips, and I murmured, “Mine.”
“Always,” Gio responded, the promise hanging in the air like an unbreakable vow.