I didn’t speed up, neither my thrusts nor my kisses. I made sure to hit deep with every thrust, aiming for that spot that made Aria lose herself. Her eyes held mine as she gasped and moaned, wonder on her gorgeous face. I wanted to guide her over the edge with only my cock again, and she was getting there. My own release was close, even though I’d shot my cum not too long ago.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, then gasped as I hit deep.

I took her mouth, slow and sweet, and then she arched up, walls clamping around me, and my balls tightened as my own release hit me hard.

Afterwards, I buried my nose in her hair as I caught my breath. I began to push myself up but Aria tightened her hold on my shoulders, and I stayed on top of her yet raised my eyes to hers.

Love. The emotion was written all across her face, and it still seemed impossible that she could love me because no one ever had. I had been born with cruelty in my veins, had been raised to break others.

“Happy birthday, Luca,” she said quietly. “Our first birthday together.”

“The first of many,” I murmured because no matter what, I would never let her go.

Aria smiled. “You have to open your present.”

My eyebrows rose. “I thought this was my present?”

“Sex and a cake?” Aria asked indignantly. She began wiggling under me and I smirked, not moving an inch.

“Luca,” she said, but I silenced her with another kiss and she relaxed under me. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I pushed off her and got to my feet, pulling her along. “So what is it?”

She shook her head and led me out of the bedroom and back downstairs, then into one of our guest bedrooms. There was a rectangular package, about five by fifteen feet in diameter. I stopped, confused. I’d expected expensive alcohol or a watch like most wives bought their husbands, but I had no clue what this was supposed to be.

Aria tugged at my hand and led me closer. “Won’t you unpack it?”

I released her hand and picked up the package. It was only a couple of inches thick, and not as heavy as I’d expected.

Aria laughed. “It doesn’t bite, trust me.”

I ripped away the gift wrap and froze, stunned. It was a canvas with graffiti art. In the background was the skyline of New York, and in the front was the Famiglia motto in red letters.

“When you told me that you like graffiti art from Banksy and other artists, I thought it would be nice to get you art like that for your office in the Sphere.”

I stared at Aria. She bit her lip. Shortly before Christmas we’d walked through New York together and I’d showed her my favorite graffiti, pretty much the only art I gave the slightest fuck about, but I didn’t think she remembered.

“Where did you get it?”

“Romero and I tried to find out who Banksy is but that was impossible, so I contacted a few of the less secretive graffiti artists in the city and asked them to create a piece of art for me.” Aria fell silent. “You don’t like it? I thought something personal would be better than just getting you something expensive like a watch, especially since it feels like you are buying your own gift because it’s all your money…”

I staggered toward her, cupped her face and kissed her fiercely. When I pulled back, her brows puckered with confusion. “It’s our money, Aria, not mine. Everything I own is also yours.”

“So I’m practically Capo,” she said teasingly, and I chuckled.

“You rule over my heart, so in some ways yes.”

I paused because I realized it was the truth. No one had ever held power over me, not like Aria did, and it was the scariest thing in this world because no one could ever find out.

“So you like your present?”

“Fuck yes. It’s perfect. How am I ever going to match up to that for your birthday?”

Aria grinned. “You still have a month to come up with something.”

“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure.”

Her eyes were alight with mirth. “You are a big boy, a tough mobster, a notorious bad boy—I think you can deal.”

I leaned down, my voice low and dark. “Bad boy, hmm?”

She circled my neck with her arms. “I really don’t know why people fear you—you’re kind of cute.”

I snorted because nobody had ever called me that, and nobody would if they knew what was good for them. “They fear me because I am a bad boy, love.”

Bad didn’t even begin to cover it.

Aria nodded with a small smile. “I know, and you know what?” She lowered her voice. “In the bedroom I like it sometimes if you act like a bad boy.”

Tags: Cora Reilly Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net