Saved by my Mafia sweetheart.

Chapter 6

I stormed back home, anger still clawing at my chest. Tonight, I bled money more than most men will see in a lifetime.

I can replace it, I have enough to cover the loss, but that’s not what gets under my skin.

If the boys hadn’t caught the traitors, I wouldn’t have known about that bastard Don Eric’s plans, and my other warehouses would have faced the same fate.

Everything my parents built would have crumbled, and I would’ve been the one to fail them.

I step out of the car, It’s already past ten. I stride into the living room and head straight for the bar.

A glass of whiskey fills my hand, and I sink into the couch. Beside me, as always, rests a roll of cigars. I light one, inhaling deeply, smoke curling into the air above me.

After the chaos of the day, I needed this.

Moments later, Renée appears.

“Master Jerome, you should go upstairs to rest,

You look like you’ve had a long day.”

“I’m fine, Renée. Just a bit unsettled,” I answer, shifting in my chair.

“Something troubles you,” she presses gently, her eyes kind. “Is it something you’d like to talk about?”

She gives me that motherly smile the one that has followed me since childhood.

Renée has been with me all my life, more a second mother than I’d ever admit.

While my parents spent time away on business and vacations, Renée raised me, they were great parents, they tried their best to spend time with me even on their busy schedules.

They weren’t perfect but they were enough and I wouldn’t have asked for better parents.

And while they go about making sure my future is secured it was Renée who stayed home with me and kept me safe.

Even now, she pretends she has work to do late into the night, but I know the truth, she waits for me, making sure I come home in one piece.

And tonight, like so many nights before, her worry lingers in her eyes.

“Ease your mind, Renée. As you can see, I’m well. There was just a small accident at one of the warehouses.

Nothing serious. Just a fire. Some men were sent to burn down one of the warehouses.” I speak casually, as though tonight isn’t one of the worst nights I’ve endured.

“Dear Lord,” she gasps, both hands covering her mouth. “Did you find those responsible?”

“Yes. I did.” My voice is flat. “I killed them on the spot.”

Her eyes soften, though her silence weighs heavily. I know she tries not to judge me or my family, but I can see the conflict.

“I know you believe you did what you had to do,” she says gently. “But never forget our conscience is what makes us human.

If we stray too far from it, we become something we eventually learn to despise.”

I don’t respond. I only stare at her, my face unreadable.

“Please, go get some sleep,” she continues softly. “It’s late, and I’m sure your wife is waiting for you.”

Right, my wife, even though what we have isn’t real it does feel good knowing someone is waiting back home for me.

Or perhaps it’s just the s*x, a body in my bed. A warm distraction I can have whenever I want. Maybe that’s all I need.

“Thank you, Renée,” I say with a thin smile. “You should rest too.”

She smiles back before heading upstairs, leaving me alone with my cigar, my drink, and the rage that refuses to die.

I linger in the living room for a while before abandoning the glass and drinking straight from the bottle, emptying the whiskey down my throat.

My body warns me I’ve had more than enough, and that it’s time to surrender to the night.

I climb the stairs and step into my room.

There she is, sleeping as if the world itself isn’t unraveling. Her silk nightgown, white as moonlight, parts slightly to reveal the elegant curve of her legs.

I’m bone-tired, but the sight of her stirs me so violently my body aches with it.

I strip off my coat and shoes, then slide into the bed, curling behind her, my arms encasing her delicate frame.

She stirs and turns toward me.

“You’re back,” she whispers. “Did you catch the terrorist?”

A crooked smile touches my lips. “Love, I am the terrorist. Those boys were nothing but prey.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“You smell like drugs and alcohol,” she teases faintly.

“And I hear you’ve always had a weakness for both,” I murmur, pressing a kiss against her mouth.

“Mmm, I sure do,” she breathes, her fingers tracing down my chest.

I kiss her deeper, harder, like she’s the only pure thing I’ve touched all day. “Thought you wouldn’t be home tonight,”

“Clearly the universe had other plans,” I answer with a smile, rolling her onto her back.

My hand slides beneath her gown, f**k, she’s bare.

My fingers find her c**t instantly, rubbing, teasing. She moans and spreads those gorgeous legs wider for me.

Heat surges through me. Her moan is soft, sensual, and it drives me further.

I move lower, spreading her thighs and burying myself between them, tongue tracing her, savoring her.

She grips my head, fingers tangled in my hair, holding me against her as if she never wants me to stop.

I suck lightly on her c**t, tasting the sweetness of her, devouring her like she’s the only salvation left to me.

She grips my head, fingers pulling at my hair, squeezing me between her thighs.

I force them open wider, sucking her c**t, eating her like I’ll die without it. She’s wet, hot, sweet as f**k.

I groan against her, devouring her “You taste so f*****g good, baby.

Dripping all over my mouth.”

I slide my fingers inside her while still working her c**t with my tongue.

Her moans vibrate through my mouth as I suck her c**t harder, tongue lashing against it until she’s grinding her p***y against my face like she wants my c**k inside her instead.

She’s dripping all over me, messy and sweet, and I don’t stop until her thighs are shaking against my cheeks.

“f**k, you’re soaked,” I growl, pulling back just long enough to shove my two fingers inside her again, knuckles deep.

Her p***y swallows me greedily, clenching around my fingers like it’s starving.

I curl them, pumping hard, and her back arches off the bed with a cry.

“Please,” she pants, nails digging into the sheets.

“Please what, baby?” I snarl, f*****g her with my fingers, thumb rubbing her c**t. “Say it. You want more? You want my d**k splitting you open?”

“Yes, s**t, yes!” she moans, hips bucking against my hand.

That’s all I need. I rip my clothes off, grab her thighs, and spread them wide.

My d**k throbs, hard and angry, and I slam into her with one brutal thrust.

She gasps, as I bury myself balls deep in one stroke.

“f**k,” I groan, grinding into her.

I don’t give her time to breathe. I pound into her, rough and relentless, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

Her nightgown’s bunched up around her waist, useless now, and her t**s bounce with every thrust.

I grab one, squeeze hard, my mouth crashing onto the other.

She moans louder, legs wrapped around me, her feet digging into my back. “Yes! f**k me harder! Please”

Her begging lights me up. I flip her onto her stomach, yank her hips up, and slam back inside.

The angle makes her scream, her p***y gripping me so tight I nearly lose it.

I spank her ass, watching it jiggle as I thrust in deep, fast, merciless.

“Are you okay sweetheart,” I asked. As much as I’m having a good time I needed to make sure she is as well.

Her voice breaks, moaning, sobbing, pleading for more. She’s clenching, trembling, p***y choking my d**k until I feel her ready to snap.

I snarl, pounding into her, my hand rubbing her c**t.

She shatters, screaming my name, body convulsing, p***y gripping me so tight it drags me over the edge.

I roar, slamming deep and spilling inside her, filling her until it leaks down her thighs.

I collapse over her, sweaty. Thrusting the last few times, grinding every drop into her.

“f**k,” I pant, kissing her neck roughly.

Her body’s still trembling under me, p***y twitching around my c**k even though I’ve already filled her.

I stay buried inside her for a moment, breathing hard against the back of her neck, biting down softly before letting go.

She whimpers when I finally ease out, I cleaned us both up and then went back to her in bed. I grab her waist, turning her gently onto her back.

Her hair’s a mess, face flushed, sweat dripping down her temples. She looks wrecked. Wrecked and perfect.

“s**t, Julia,” I murmur, brushing damp strands of hair away from her face. My voice softer now. “Your p***y is perfect” she let out a little chuckle “I apologize for interrupting your sleep. “Do you forgive me” I added with a smile.

“Only if you promise to interrupt more,” Her chest rises and falls, shaky, as she tries to catch her breath.

I lean down, kiss her lips slowly, not as hungry as I did minutes ago. Just tasting her, savoring her.

I trail kisses along her jaw, down her throat.

My palm smooths over her thigh, rubbing the skin I just gripped hard enough to leave prints.

“You okay?” I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. “Didn’t break you, did I?”

She lets out a small laugh, weak but sweet. “Almost.”

I smirk, kissing her again. Then I pull her close, tucking her against my chest, wrapping her up in my arms like she’s something fragile.

My hand strokes her back slowly, soothing her as she melts into me.

She sighs, pressing her face into my chest, and just for a moment, the chaos fades. And tonight didn't seem so bad.