Tirone (The Night Skulls MC #2)(73)

I grabbed her arm before she reached the door and tugged until her body collided into mine. She scowled. “You can’t stop me, Laius. I made up my mind.”

“The fuck you did.” I carried her over my shoulder and tossed her on the bed. She rolled away, but I grabbed her ankles, her skirt riding up, showing her creamy, voluptuous thighs that made my mouth water, and held her in place.

“Laius, please. Don’t fight me on this. I’m so tired. I need this to be over.”

I lay on top of her and silenced her with a kiss. “Ain’t gonna fight.”

She hissed, calmer, quieter. “You can’t do that either.”

“Now, you’re trippin’, girl. I can kiss you whenever I want.” My fingers sneaked under her skirt and pushed her panties to the side while my gaze devoured the plump outline of her tits. “Fuck you whenever I want.”

She inhaled, and her tits rose in my face. I opened her shirt and buried my face between them. Then I took one out of the bra cup and suckled on her sweet nipple. My mouth ravaged her, and she moaned under my touch. “What are you doing to me?”

I unzipped my pants, cock pulsing hard. I sprang it free and stroked. “It’s time I reminded you who you belonged to.”

Watching, she licked her lip. I took off her skirt and slid her panties to the side again. I teased her with my fingers while I pushed the tip of my cock to her lips. “Do you want a taste first?”

She nodded with a moan. Then she opened wide.

The sight of her sucking my cock while her wetness coated my fingers triggered an animalistic hunger that was far from patient. I pulled myself out of her mouth and glided my cock against her swollen clit.

Her body pleaded to be at my mercy, and I took it with none. Her back arched in delightful pain as I fucked her, giving her all of me, lips, hands, cock, everything.

A phone vibrated annoyingly. It wasn’t mine. Her expression changed from that of a woman being railed to one who was afraid.

I stopped. “Who’s calling you now?”

“I don’t know,” she panted.

It stopped vibrating, only to start up again the next second. I grabbed her bag and dug into it.

“What the fuck are you doing? Give me that.” she protested.

I stared at her in warning, my hand finding the goddamn phone. Not the one I gave her. “You bought a burner behind my back?”

“Please don’t mistake it for anything that it’s not.”

I cast a fuming glare at the screen. It was an unknown number, unsaved. “Answer him.”

“It’s not Tirone. I swear.”

“Answer him Goddamnit.”

She swallowed. “Not now.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You’re…inside me.”

“Answer him or I will.”

Sweat covered her forehead as she stalled, waiting for him to stop calling. Did she think I was bluffing? Fuck it. I opened the call.

She yanked the phone out of my hand and put it on her ear. Glaring at me, she panted, “Papà.”

“What the fuck?” Who the fuck was she calling Dad in Italian? “Put him on speaker.”

She shook her head.

I thrust inside her hard and fast. Her moans and gasps huffed into the phone. “Jesus… I’m… Papà…Laius is…here.”

“Turn on the fucking speaker now.”

Catching her breath, she just gave me the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”





CHAPTER 41


Jo



Laius stared at me for what seemed to be an eternity, his expression unreadable. I was pretty sure murder crossed his mind, though.

“Michele Pagani,” he finally uttered.

My mouth parted to speak, but I bit my tongue and kept my lips shut. It was best if I let him do the talking.

“Tino Bellomo’s hound is what Madeline…” He swallowed the rest of the sentence. “He’s my wife’s godfather.”

“He’s the one who saved me that night and hid me in Bellomo Academy.” My heart squeezed at the memory. “The one I should have waited for.”

“He was fucking late,” he spat. “She chose him, and he couldn’t fucking protect her. Where the fuck was he when they did that shit to her? To you? He let an eight-year-old do his job, and in the end…” He started throwing things and punched the wall.

Was it odd that it wasn’t his anger the scared me but the striking resemblance between Laius and Tirone when they were in that state?

“He taught you how to fucking shoot and fight. Simple self-defense moves every woman should know my ass.” He mocked angrily. “That’s where you were going that day when I got you in Utah. You were going back to Chicago to your papà. Like he could do shit. Why the fuck haven’t you told me about that son of a bitch?”

“Please don’t insult him. He’s very important to me. He made me promise not to tell you about him.”

“Because he doesn’t fucking trust me. That dog doesn’t trust me, your fucking husband.”

“At first maybe, but now everything is different. He bought me the wedding dress, and he said he was going to talk to you when the time was right. He knows about the whole situation with the Lanzas and the Larvins. That’s why he didn’t come to the wedding and remained unknown to you. He also warned me there was a war coming, and he wanted to see for himself which side you’d be on. I’m sure now he knows he can trust you, and the Bellomos can be the replacement you’re looking for.” At least, that was what I hoped Michele suggested over the short, angry, Italian conversation he and Laius had over the phone.