Unholy Vows: Epilogue

Graduation from nursing school at my age wasn’t really a big deal, or so I told myself a hundred times as I waited in the spring sunshine for my family to arrive. Most other mature students my age had just had their diploma mailed to them. I’d suggested that to Ren, and he’d tutted in that infuriating way he did when he knew I was lying about something.

“You’ll go and collect your diploma in person, and I’ll be there to watch you, even if it’s just waiting in line at the admin office,” he’d said firmly, so here I was.

The other graduates around me were all younger, and I was pretty sure none of them were pregnant.

You couldn’t really make out my bump yet at all. I was only four months along, and it was my first pregnancy, so I wasn’t showing too much.

“Here they are,” Sonny murmured to me.

I swiveled around in my seat. Yep, I had a bodyguard at graduation. I was that strange, untouchable student giving off secret princess vibes, and I was okay with that. I was sure Lucy would have it even worse in Florence when she started culinary school in a few weeks.

The small quad was full of chairs and parents and well-wishers. Pink blossom trees enclosed the space, and the sky was light blue.

Into that pastel palate, a spear of darkness appeared.

The De Sanctis family entered the quad, Ren’s men spreading out to check the safety of the area. All in black, they didn’t exactly fit in. Renato led the charge up the central aisle, Elio at his shoulder, Giada on the other side, and Carmella and Lucy trailing behind them. Something clutched my throat at the sight of all the people who had become so dear to me, showing up here to support me.

Renato scanned for me, drawing eyes from the rest of the audience as he walked through the crowd like a king visiting his serfs. It parted naturally for him. He looked deadly, and more handsome than anyone had a right to. His eyes met mine, and the slight tension on his face faded. He smiled at me, inclining his head in a nod.

Good girl, little nurse. You’ve done so well. I could still hear the words he’d whispered in my ear last week when I’d told him I was pregnant, right in the middle of sex.

The Italians sat, looking like the rebel cool kids at school who everyone else wanted to be. The music started, and the ceremony began.

When my name was called, I took my diploma, and loud whistles filled the air. My ragtag group of family had all stood and were clapping so loudly, it should have been embarrassing. Giada led the charge, of course. Even the De Sanctis men, many of whom I knew by name now, having treated their various cuts and wounds, clapped loudly from the sidelines.

I didn’t blush or rush away. I deserved this.

I raised my diploma in celebration, then took my damn time leaving the stage.

14 Months Later

Ientered the bedroom and heard Charlotte sighing from the en suite bathroom. I’d been on a business trip to Las Vegas, and every single night I’d been away from my wife and twin daughters had been torture. I had a new measure on pain, now that I had my own family. Not being within arm’s reach of my girls felt like a new and dangerously effective torture technique.

My girls.

The twins were nine months old, and Charlotte had proved to be exactly the mother I’d expected her to be. If anything, she’d grown more fearless, more loyal. A woman confident in her own power.

What a fucking turn-on.

The bathroom door was ajar. I watched as my wife paced back and forth on the marble tile. She was only wearing underwear, her beautiful body a testament to how much our lives had changed. Her belly was softer, her hips had stretch marks, and her breasts…I had no words to explain my obsession with her tits since she’d been pregnant. Her body bore the marks of my ownership. The evidence that we were bound together forever, and she’d never been more beautiful.

Right now, however, she cursed like a sailor and stared at herself in the mirror over the sink.

I knew she was alone, because I’d already stopped in on the girls. They were sleeping in the nursery while Carmella knitted in the corner, happily. The housekeeper had waited decades to have children in the house again. She was truly content.

Charlotte straightened up, and I finally saw her chest. She had her nursing bra open on both sides, and her perfect, full tits were swollen and full-looking. The sight was a kick of desire in the cock. I had no idea why nursing bras weren’t generally regarded as an erotic item, given how much the sight of my wife in one turned me on. Maybe it was also the fact that her body was feeding my babies , too. It was primitive, hot as fuck, and I didn’t question it.

“Come on, Charlie. You can do this,” Charlotte said to her reflection, with no idea that her little pep talk was being witnessed.

I still loved to watch my wife while she was unaware. Sleeping, feeding the twins, from a distance while waiting for her.

I was about to speak and let her know she had an audience, when she leaned over the sink and grabbed her breasts. My words died as desire clutched my throat. She leaned over the sink and massaged the heavy globes, pulling at the nipples.

My self-control snapped, and I stepped into the room.

“I know I’ve been gone for two nights, but you’re encroaching on my territory, and you know De Sanctis men take that seriously,” I said to her.

She spun around and clamped an arm across her chest. “You’re home early!”

“I couldn’t wait.” I took two long steps, and then she was in my arms. “Now, tell me what you were doing, and go into detail.”

She blushed faintly. My little nurse still blushed over the most innocent things. She had a filthy mind, and I loved it.

“The twins are dropping feeds, and I have so much damn supply…it hurts,” she confessed.

I took her by the hips and guided her to the counter, turning her again so she faced the mirror. I carefully pulled her long hair back over her shoulders, out of the way, and cupped her full breasts.

“Do you need help, little nurse?” I asked, reaching easily around her petite figure to wash my hands, slowly and methodically in the sink before her.

She nodded, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. I dried my hands and then I was on her. I couldn’t have waited another second. She stilled as I cupped her aching tits. I indulged in caressing them for a second, hefting their weight, brushing across the huge, dark nipples.

She shifted against me, arching her back so her ass pressed into my cock, already standing at attention from the moment I’d spied her in the bathroom pacing.

“Is this what you need?” My fingers latched on to her nipples and tugged, perfectly emulating the motion the twins made when they fed.

Charlotte nodded, leaning a little more over the sink. White beaded from the end of a hard bud.

“They just feel so full, like I’m going to burst.” She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as the first jet of milk released. “Tomorrow, I need to get a pump or something. Stockpile this milk in the freezer, maybe,” she rambled, always organized and thinking ahead.

The other breast let down quickly after the first. She took a relieved breath. I hated the thought of her aching or uncomfortable. My eyes were drawn to the sight of her full tits releasing streams of milk. Dribbles of white ran across my tattooed knuckles, her skin wet and shining in the lights of the vanity.

Fuck, I was hard as hell. I was milking my wife, for her own comfort, and it had made me harder than I’d ever been.

It seemed like I wasn’t the only one.

I met Charlotte’s gaze in the mirror. Her eyes were hazy and lost in pleasure. I kneaded and caressed her hanging tits , eliciting more pleasure than milk now, the flow ebbing and then stopping. The sweet smell of it rose into the air. I rocked my hard cock against her backside, and she purposefully ground on me.

“Keep going like that, bambina, and you’re going to get fucked over this sink, right here, right now,” I warned.

She smirked and wriggled her hips against me. “Keep going like what?” Her voice was full of calculated innocence.

This woman was an endless delight.

It took a second to undo my fly and pull myself out. My hand was wet with her milk, and I rubbed it up and down the length of my cock to coat it and make me slippery for her, before I pressed to her entrance. Her panties pushed aside easily. Inside her was hot and wet. I sank in, imprinting kisses along her shoulders. Now, I felt like I was truly back from my trip. Right here, balls-deep in the woman I loved, my wife, I was home.

“If you’re looking to play, bambina, just ask.” I pumped into her, gripping handfuls of her ass to hold her in place.

She braced her hands on the counter to press back against me.

I fucked her hard until she panted my name. Before she came, I pulled her back against me, her hips flexing in an arch, and grabbed her throat. My other hand, still sticky and wet with milk, went into her sweet mouth, gagging her the way she liked it. I fit all four fingers in there and gripped her jaw, just like I had that first night in La Leonora, when I’d first discovered there was more to my good little nurse than met the eye.

She whimpered, her pussy only getting wetter at my control of her mouth. Her tongue caressed my fingers, and her pulse fluttered wildly under my fingers as she climbed higher and higher.

She imploded around me, clenching down on my pistoning cock relentlessly and nearly locking me in place. Her spasming muscles milked me, pulling cum from my balls with unstoppable intensity. I came hard, buried deep.

Later, when my heart stopped pounding and my cock slipped from her tight channel, I simply held her in my arms, watching her reflection. I enjoyed how her earlier frustration was gone, and her stunning features were soft and calm. My hand was still around her throat, just like she liked it, and now it tangled in the necklace she still wore. St. Anthony. The saint of lost things, and people.

“I was thinking of changing this necklace,” Charlotte murmured, gazing at me in the mirror.

“It’s a good idea. After all, you’re not lost anymore, bambina, and you never will be again.”

She grinned at me, a ray of pure fucking sunshine beaming right onto my unworthy face. In the end, she was the deity I’d serve until my last breath. My hope and salvation. My higher power. Happiness for me, was and always would be, the sight of her smile.

“Because you found me, and you’re keeping me,” she finished for me. My ritual prayer to my goddess. “Until death parts us,” she whispered quietly.

I grinned against her skin, pressing a sweet kiss to her soft forehead. “Not even then, if I have anything to say about it. I told you I’m keeping you and I always keep my word.”

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