Mafia Casanova - Page 59

Our fifth anniversary.

What milestone had we reached?

Silver? Or was it gold?

I had to do something to get me out of this heavy place.

I left Naz with my parents, wanting to have the evening alone with Tristian. It was way past dark by the time he opened the front door, and I was waiting in the same haunted living room for him. Desperately trying to knock away the memories in this room like I’d done the past year alone.

“Hey,” I announced, causing him to lift his gaze and lock eyes with me.

I could tell he was a little taken back by the way I was dressed, and I silently hoped he couldn’t smell the bottle of wine I’d downed and hid to be able to go through with this.

Narrowing his eyes at me, he searched my face, for what I didn’t know.

“You’re late,” I declared, not knowing what else to say.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt that he’d shown up this late into the night.

Did he remember?

Did he forget?

I couldn’t tell anymore.

Why should being married for five years feel like talking to a stranger?

He just nodded while walking toward me. In five long strides, he was standing right in front of me. Reaching up to sweep my hair away from my face, never letting his eyes waver from mine. It was only then that I smelled women’s perfume.

Simultaneously, he reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a distinctive teardrop-shaped blue bottle. “Do you think I’m like my brother now? For you,” he stated, reading my mind and where it went. Handing me the fragrance I must have smelled. “Happy anniversary, Eden Sinacore.”

I breathed a sigh a relief, not hesitating for one second, fully aware if I did. I wouldn’t go through with this.

Leaning in, I kissed his lips. Softly at first, wanting, needing to take away the memory of that night when he’d held a gun over my heart.

We were standing in the same spot, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. Deep in the core of my being, I knew it wouldn’t matter.

That night would forever haunt me.

And possibly him.

I felt as though it was the least I could do was to try.

Allowing my touch to speak for itself.

In a matter of seconds, my kiss turned into something else entirely. Something we both wanted but had yet to make happen.

“Eden,” he rasped against my mouth. “What are you doing?” Feeling the urgency of my lips claiming his for the first time in, I didn’t know how long.

“Happy anniversary,” I simply stated in between kisses. Not wanting to stop the emotional havoc I was inflicting. “My gift to you… is me.”

“Eden…” he groaned in a husky tone.

“Take me to bed,” I demanded before I lost the nerve.

I didn’t have to tell him twice. He scooped me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me into our bedroom, where he laid me down on the bed, hovering his huge frame over mine.

Looking deep into my eyes, he breathed out, “I’ve missed you. Please tell me you know that?”

A sharp pain stabbed my chest where my heart used to be, the space he had once shared with his brother and then owned, only to forget again. “I think I do.”

He winced.

“It’s been a hard year. A rough few years.”

“I know, Eden.” Laying his forehead on top of mine, he asked, “Where did we go wrong?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“I truly am sorry about that night.” He shook his head while I held onto the sides of his face.

“I don’t want to talk about that. Just make love to me.”

I let him go to sit up enough to take my dress off, throwing it onto the floor. Leaving me topless and exposed, wearing only my panties.

He’d seen me naked before, but right now, it felt like the first time all over again. I was so anxious lying there, waiting for him to do what he pleased with me. My heart sped up to an insanely rapid pace, threatening to erupt from my chest. Maybe it was the lost expression on his face or the fact that I was in his arms; it also could have been from knowing he was going to touch me, feel me, see me for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

“I’ve always loved you, Eden,” he praised in a sincere tone, now standing above me at the edge of the bed. Pulling his shirt over his head, he revealed his hard, toned, muscular body.

His eyes shifted, taking in every last inch of my body. Getting a good look at me. Really studying me. “Spread your legs for me, honey.”

I timidly obeyed, willing my already shaking legs to move.

To open.

For him.

Anxiously waiting for what I knew was to come. He released a loud growl that escaped from the back of his throat, adding fuel to the flames already burning inside me.

Tags: M. Robinson, Rachel Van Dyken Erotic
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