Chapter 36 - Marco

I shifted in bed, feeling the small, soft body on top of mine, and we opened our eyes at the same instant. Angela slept lazily with one leg thrown over me, an arm draped across my abdomen, her breasts pressed against me along with her face.

"Mine," I murmured, sliding my fingers along her back and watching her fair skin prickle at my touch.

She moved deliciously over me, reminding me of last night when I buried myself inside her.

I'd never fucked a pussy so tight before; it felt like I could come just from entering her, being squeezed despite her being soaked. Thinking about it made my cock harden against her thigh, and I gripped her soft ass, still marked from my hand, squeezing the flesh and spreading her cheeks to feel her folds.

"Hmm... You're really insatiable," she moaned sleepily, and I slowly rolled our bodies, knowing she was sore after two times last night when she'd never had a cock inside her before.

"You make me like this, she-devil," I planted a quick kiss on her lips and trailed to her neck, even with her eyes closed, drowsy.

I kissed down her collarbone until I reached her breasts. Angela stirred as I circled her sensitive nipple, which hardened in my mouth. Her moan sounded as I sucked it, and I quickly descended toward my pot of gold.

I spread her legs, throwing them over my shoulders, and buried my face between her thighs, breathing in the scent of her wet pussy. I parted her folds with my fingers, watching the entrance already glistening with arousal, and Angela shuddered against me.

I rubbed my fingers at her entrance and licked, spreading her excitement over every bit. She was red, reminding me she was probably still sore, and when I slid a finger inside her, I got my answer.

Angel whimpered but pushed toward me, swallowing my finger. I growled at the sight and covered her clit with my mouth, sucking before rubbing my tongue over every inch of her.

"Marco... I need you!"

"No, she-devil, you're too sore to fuck right now," I slapped her pussy, making her jump on the bed. "Unless you want to give me something else."

I slid a finger to her little ass, and she yanked my hair, making me laugh. Angela pulled me up until we were face-to-face and then kissed me deeply, wrapping her long legs around my hips.

Before I realized her intentions, she flipped our bodies, ending up on top.

"I say what I want and when I want it," she braced one hand on my chest, rising and bathed in the sunlight streaming into the room, looking like a goddess of lust, while with the other, she guided my cock to her entrance. "And I want you inside me now."

Minutes later, she was lying on my chest again, but now with ragged breathing and riding me, with my cock still inside her.

"If we stay in this bed, we won't stop," I murmured, kissing her messy hair. "And I've already heard your stomach growl three times."

I got up without waiting for her response and headed straight to the bathroom, stepping into the shower and turning on the jets of water over us.

I didn't want to pull away from her, but I set her on the floor and contented myself with bathing her with my hands, touching every part of her body with adoration.

Angela tried to do the same, but I couldn't last long before thinking of pushing her against the wall and thrusting inside her again. Without a doubt, she had become my new addiction. But I had to remember she was hungry and at this rate, she'd faint.

When I finished, I wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to the bedroom, placing her on the bed and noting her grumble as she sat up.

I wouldn't deny that I liked that—a primal urge to beat my chest like a caveman, knowing I'd done that, that I was her only man and had left her sore like this.

"With all the madness last night, we didn't even use the honey," she murmured, looking at the jar on the nightstand as I changed and she remained wrapped in the towel.

"We'll have plenty of time to use it. Rest assured, I'll smear every inch of your body with it before licking it off and thrusting inside you," I promised, watching her cheeks flush red. Angela could still blush despite all the filth I did to her. "Now get dressed. I'll wait for you for breakfast."

I left the room reluctantly, especially when she made a pouty face, batting her long lashes at me.

"Look at that—nothing like sex to bring a smile to our brother's face," Nero shouted as I entered the dining room, but not even he could ruin my good mood.

"Ignore him. Nero's jealous because he doesn't have a wife," Melissa said, entering the room with a tray of food.

"Can I know why you two fuckers are here when I'm on my honeymoon?" I questioned them. "I could be coming down naked with Angela right now."

All the two bastards did was shrug and laugh at me.

"The truth is, I'd rather be home with Frank too, but he has some shit to sort out with you, so I came along to enjoy Giovanna's wonderful breakfast since you won't let me steal her for myself," Mel said, popping a piece of cake into her mouth, showing she didn't care about anything mafia-related.

"And where's your husband..."

"Good thing you're up, Marco," Frank entered the dining room carrying a folder, which couldn't mean anything good. "Mancini took the night to fuck up our lives."

"Don't tell me he handed over the girl?" I questioned immediately, because if something happened to her, Angela would hate me for knowing what he planned and not saying anything.

"No, but he attacked every imaginable Camorra spot."

I took a deep breath, rubbing my hands over my forehead, already imagining the size of the damn problem he'd caused me. That bastard wasn't going to let it slide, not on our wedding day.

"Can you talk about this stuff somewhere else?" Mel grumbled, giving her husband a sweet look—the one she always used to bend him. "I don't want indigestion this early in the morning."

"And why would you get indigestion?" It was Angela's voice behind me that made my body tense. Everyone there knew she shouldn't know anything before the wedding, but the ceremony was already over. "What happened? Why these faces?"

Silence reigned in the room, and I walked to the head of the table, sitting in my usual spot and acting as if nothing was wrong.

"Sit down, dear. You were starving, remember?"

"Don't try to distract me, Marco. What happened here? What were you talking about that made you all shut up when I arrived?" She insisted, hands on her hips and refusing to sit. "Was it my father? What did he do now? Nero? Mel? Damn it, Frank, tell me something!" She shouted, going to each one, trying to make them talk.

"Angela..."

"You swore yesterday, Marco. In front of the entire Famiglia, you swore I was the boss by your side, that I'd be second-in-command. So tell me right now!"

If that's what she wanted, I'd give it to her. It would be a pleasure to fuel the hatred she already felt for her father. If only I could wait a few more days before revealing everything to her.

"Your father attacked us last night. Hand her the folder, Frank," I ordered, waving my fingers before serving my coffee.

He hesitated for a moment, piquing my curiosity, but finally placed the folder on the table, and Angela didn't waste time opening it.

She flipped through the pages quickly, which surely described all our losses and damages. But then Angela froze and lifted a handful of photos. That wasn't usual—what had Frank done?

Her eyes widened, and her chest rose and fell rapidly, showing her desperation. I jumped from the chair in that instant, taking long strides toward her and snatching the handful of photos, regretting letting her see them.

There were mutilated people at every level—severed heads and hands, gunshots, a true carnage, in various places: our casinos, nightclubs, strip clubs. It was a horror show, and now Angela was paralyzed.

"My... Mancini did this? He did this to these people because of me?" I placed my hand on her shoulder, turning her carefully toward me. "I'm the cause of this, all this blood. When will it stop?"

I pulled her against my chest, trying to calm her, even though I knew she'd probably have nightmares from those images, just like when she killed that Mexican bastard.

"It's not your fault. This is war. Both sides lose, and we knew he'd retaliate for the last time," I said against her hair, wishing we'd stayed in that room so I wouldn't ruin everything. "Forget those photos. Forget it all."

I tossed the photos on the table and held her body tighter, but Angela stretched out her hand, grabbing one of the photos we hadn't seen.

"What happened to my sister?" she questioned, and my eyes scanned the image of the young girl crying as her father shook her by the hand. "Why did he dress her the same way he dressed me when he introduced me to Filippo?"

My blood boiled at the thought of the bastard, but knowing that information was enough to tell me her father was parading her to men who would want a teenager as a prize.

"That bastard, son of a bitch!" I growled, closing my eyes and remembering his car in flames. How I wished they'd hit the damn thing. "Your father put a bounty on whoever kills us."

"And what does that have to do with my sister? He wouldn't..." It clicked for her, and Angela took a step back. "He wouldn't, not with her... Alessia is just a child!"

"I'm sorry, Angel..."

"Did you know about this?" she questioned, interrupting me, and I just let out a heavy breath, but it was enough for her to understand. "You knew and didn't tell me! You bastard! What were you thinking, hiding something like this from me, Marco?"

With every word, she punched her fists into my chest until she tired and stepped back, dazed.

"Angela, let's talk and sort it all out. Don't worry—nothing will happen to your sister," I tried to assure her, even though the chances were slim.

"And it won't. I'll make sure of that!" Angela turned to me, lifting her chin and looking at me with a determination I'd never seen in her eyes. "We're going to steal her from that wretch. We're going to rip my entire family out of his hands!"