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27|Your Present And Future
CastielTomorrow... xx 6.8.22
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Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 28|We Have Protection
~Klaus~ ‘But later you will understand.’ — John 13:7 As my tongue traced each letter of Rylee’s ink, the purpose of each word became crystal in my head. It dawned on me why the wine tastes better when it’s from our vineyard, why Dad says Amara’s tasted even better than the last glass he had. Everything is sweeter when you work hard for it. Just like ‘my’ Rylee. Goddamn. She’s finally mine. Mine to take care of, mine to protect… mine to claim. It’s like being free from the shackles restraining me for years. That’s how it felt as I skimmed Rylee’s body with my hand, lips, and tongue. I tugged her shirt’s neckline lower, revealing more of her milky skin, torturing myself more. My wrist brushed her right nipple, earning a breathless whimper of desire from Rylee. She sank her fingers into my hair, tugging every time she’d ground her hips above my raging hard on. It’s a challenge controlling my thoughts, to hold the need surging inside me, but I want to take my time. I only got one s
Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 29|Così Romantico
~Rylee~ Touch soft as a feather ghosted my arm upward, settling on my shoulder to bestow delicately looped patterns. Klaus.... For a moment, I thought last night was all in my head, an addition to the long list of wet dreams featuring Klaus and me. Flames of embarrassment flickered in my gut, spreading to my still warm skin from his touch. After coming down from the most intense orgasm of my life, I had fallen limp, unable to even open my eyelids. I vaguely recall Klaus nudging my cheeks with his nose, a tender gesture I’m beginning to grow accustomed to. He cleaned after himself, wiping me with a cool washcloth. In the form of a coo, he asked me if I needed water, if I was warm enough, or if he had been too rough. I answered all his questions with a moan, curling beside him like a ball of fur. Yes... Fur. Even now, I feel boneless everywhere, certain that my legs won’t hold my weight if I stand. They felt soft like jelly yet twitching as my well-loved pussy hummed in delight.
Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 30|I Forgot
~Rylee~Klaus stood beside a Speed Triple, holding a ring spanner with his hands and shirt dredged with oil. My best friend Rain stood four feet from him, her Glock 43 aimed straight at Klaus’ head.Rain was in a perfect femme fetal outfit. Black leather jacket over a black minidress, knee-high boots with her blond hair swaying as the wind blows from the Delaware River. Five steps away from her left was the gentle giant Ghost. He was in his usual shirt and jeans; his Glock 19 pointed at Rain’s temple.I had no idea what was happening or how to appease the situation. The tension crackles in the open air, and the dried leaves on the ground might light up in fire if no one pacifies these three.Of the three, Klaus is technically at a disadvantage. He was only holding a ring spanner, yet he appeared to have the upper hand.Klaus tilted his head to the side, seizing up Rain. “Do I know you?”Rain hadn’t made eye contact with me, but she had me in her peripheral vision. I don’t know why, bu
Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 31|Taking Sides
~Rylee~ Fist clenched on the side; I want to punch all the people in this safe house, including the woman beside me. If Rain wasn’t my best friend, I might have slapped her smack dab on the back of her head. For what? Nothing really. Just to get back at her for gossiping before warning me about Sloan and Blade’s arrival. And for wearing that gleeful smile while watching four idiots thwart each other. The only thing missing is pompoms, and she’d twirl her perky ass around. She’s enjoying this testosterone overload too much. Ghost got Blade in a standing rear choke. Being two inches smaller than me, Blade dangled from Ghost’s arms like a toddler. Being half dumb like his boss and a half too small against Ghost, he relied on his speed. Blade made eye contact with me, winking, his fingers digging into Ghost’s arms. I shook my head, praying that he acts as the bigger person, figuratively. But no, he likes proving size doesn’t matter in a fight. “Fucking hell,” I whispered as Blade elbow
Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 32|Empty Bed
~Rylee~ The penthouse felt so lonely without Klaus. Cold, silent. It has been three days since Philadelphia. I tried calling him, left him a voicemail asking where he was or how he’s been, but received no response. I called Ghost instead, asking how Klaus is doing. If Klaus didn’t want to be found, there’s nothing anyone can do. He needs time. He needs his space, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. I miss his cooking, miss the knowing crooked smile where one tip of his lips would lift higher than the other, a telltale that he’s in the mood to piss me off. I miss the stolen glances he’d pinned on my ass when he thought I wasn’t looking. Even his scent and his mere presence… Groaning, I turned on my back and stared at the white ceiling of my room. I reached for my new phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with Klaus’ face. Call me a crazy creep, but whenever I miss him, or when ‘Rylee the spy’ wants to take over and look for him, I stare at his picture like a teenager fawni
Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 33|That Crazy Little Thing
~Klaus~I laid awake for an entirely different reason—my heart hums, swaying as though it’s hearing a cheesy romantic song.So this is love, huh?That crazy little thing that stopped Devin and Evan from spending their Friday nights drowning in booze and girls with me. With love comes affection, cheesy lines, and all those romantic shit.Come to think of it. I haven’t gone to a party since Rylee moved in. And I did tons of lovey-dovey feats just to see Rylee smile. Even my annoyance at what Sloan said makes sense now. I’m fucking jealous of what he had with Rylee… I want her all to myself, not just because I fancy her, but because I love her.Fucking shit.I’m in love… with Rylee.And I’ve never been more terrified.Sleep somehow embraced me through these jumbled thoughts in my head, allowing my body and mind some kind of breather. I’ve been on the move since Philly, not giving my mind time to think of Rylee. I was pushing the question of why I was so pissed that she gave her virginity
Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 34|Eventually
~Rylee~ Still silence hovered inside the penthouse, but it’s the serene kind, comfortable even. Klaus is still fast asleep. It’s already dark outside. I knew he needed the rest from the bruises on his body when I slipped out of bed. It must’ve been a surprise discovering me in his bed last night. But I have to go back to my room tonight. I tidied up, changed my beddings, cleaned my bathroom, and read a book just to kill time. Sloan is still trying to reach out to me, leaving voicemails daily, which I directed to trash without hearing. I’m not ready to talk to him, nor will I ever be for a while, I think. My decision left me unemployed indefinitely, though. He might be offering me a job in one of those voicemails, but I’m too pissed to hear his voice. This wasn’t the first time we argued, and I still care for him. He’s my best friend, and I don’t want to say things I’d regret later on. I was in the middle of soaking bread crumbs in milk, a panade for the Italian meatballs I intend
Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife 35|That Is Not Us
~Rylee~ It doesn’t take much to leave me romantically stunned. I am a hopeless romantic, a die-hard fan of happily ever after. And marriage proposals and weddings were like icing on top of a moist chocolate cake. The words on the ceiling weren’t the only thing up there that left me speechless. As the spotlights lost their glow, a thousand lights lit up overhead, forming a mirror image of the planetarium where Klaus took me on our first official date. “Oh my God…” I parroted, lifting my trembling hands to my mouth. I was still lying on top of him, boneless, mind floating in clouds. Klaus was the first to move. He propelled himself up, cradling me on his lap like I was a child. If the cold bothered him in any way, he doesn’t show it. “Rose,” he guides my face to him, wiping my wet cheeks. As if the fairy lights and stars above us were not enough to melt my heart into puddles, warm white, yellow, and pink lights started to glow under the ice, casting an intimate glimmer against the
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