Unveiled: Chapter 9

The door clicks shut behind us, and Alexius whips around to face me. “You good?”

“Yeah.” I glance at my wristwatch. “It’s almost midnight, and we still haven’t heard anything from Maximo.”

“If this Briana woman is out there, no matter what it takes, Maximo will find her.”

“I know. But it’ll be really fucking nice if he can find her faster.”

“Hey. Listen,” he starts, shrugging off his black trench coat. “At the risk of sounding like a cinnamon roll—”

“For the love of God, rather not say it.”

“Go to your wife, man. Get into bed with her and just be with her? Clear your head of everything but her.”

I lean my head back before cranking it from side to side as tension pulls tautly at my muscles. “It’s kind of hard when your wife is the center of everything, you know?”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “What I do know is that everything has to come to an end sometime. And so will this. Get some sleep. You need it.”

I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”

I navigate the darkened hallways, my footsteps echoing off the polished floors, feeling an oppressive silence all around me. We haven’t been home much lately, and it’s like these halls have lost their familiarity. Like ghosts haunt them now—ghosts of a life we lost decades ago even though it’s only been months. Weeks. Days. Minutes. Seconds.

I would give anything to go back in time and appreciate the moments of sheer happiness more—moments that weren’t overshadowed by darkness.

Pushing the bedroom door open, I see her there, my wife, lying on her side, the sheets draped over her hourglass curves, her soft breathing evident in the quiet room. The sight of her like this makes my heart ache as if my love for her is poison. She looks so innocent, so vulnerable, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The bodies we left behind tonight and the blood on my hands are inconsequential compared to her. When I’m with her, it’s so easy to pretend like I’m a good man, that there isn’t a vengeful beast wreaking havoc in my blood.

I close the door behind me and pad softly across the carpeted floor to take a shower and attempt to wash all my sins away before wrapping a towel around my waist and softly walking back into the room.

Mira stirs but doesn’t wake as I go to stand at the side of the bed, her breathing even and deep. The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast a soft glow on her golden hair, fanned out on the pillow beneath her, and the sight of her takes my goddamn breath away.

I reach out to brush the hair from her face gently, my fingertips trailing along her cheekbone. God, she’s beautiful. She’s exquisite. Not even the scar Micah left on her face can take away from her stunning features. I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, my heart pounding against my ribs. There will never come a day that I feel deserving of her. Every morning when I wake up with her next to me, I have to reach out and touch her to make sure she’s real—that she’s really there. That she’s mine.

Will she ever know how much I love her? Will she ever truly understand the depths of my adoration, my desire, my need for her?

She moves, slipping her arm from beneath the sheets, and I frown when I see the bandage on her arm.

As if sensing my presence, she slowly opens her eyes, blinking sleepily up at me. “Nicoli?” she mumbles, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal those bright green eyes that always seem to pierce right through me. “You’re home. I tried to wait up for you.”

“I know, baby. It’s late.”

“Everything okay?”

“What happened to your arm?”

“Oh. I had an unfortunate run in with a flower vase.”

“You what?”

“It’s late, Nicoli. Come to bed.”

“In a minute.”

She props herself up on her elbow. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Hummingbird.”

“For what?”

“For underestimating you.” I cup her cheek, lightly brushing it with my thumb. “All I wanted to do was protect you, keep you safe, and I failed.”

“Nicoli—”

“Listen to me, Mira,” I press, leaning over her. “I failed in protecting you, and you survived. On your own, you fucking survived. You didn’t need me.”

She sits up, her eyes fiery with resolve. “I will always need you, Li.”

God, my heart constricts when she calls me that.

“I will always need you. There will never be a time in my life that I don’t.”

“You’re not hearing me, Hummingbird.” I slide my hand to the back of her neck, squeezing lightly. “I’m saying I’ve been wrong all this time. You were a four-year-old girl, and you survived your family’s slaughter. You didn’t need me to protect you by lying about Marco. You don’t need me to protect you by keeping you away from Myth. And Nunzio, you fucking survived him on your own, Mira. You killed those men because you’re strong—my fucking God, you are so strong.” I grab her face with both my palms, leaning my forehead against hers. “And I’m sorry it took me all these years to realize that the only fucking thing you need from me is to love you. Nothing more. Nothing less. I love you, Mirabella Del Rossa. I love you so fucking much it hurts.” I take her hand and place it over my heart. “In here. It hurts in here, but it’s an ache I never want to be without.”

A light moan comes from her throat as I capture her lips with mine, kissing her deeply and passionately, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths with a hunger that grows stronger. The sound of her delicate whimpers makes me want to ravage her body, taste every inch of it, and explore its contours as if I had never touched anything so beautiful. Her lips are warm satin against mine, and I savor their taste before taking them deeper.

She moves up, making space so I can slide in next to her, and I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close. The warmth of her body against mine is soothing, and I let out a deep breath, burying my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent that calms the turmoil within me. It’s moments like these that make everything else in my life seem worth it. The bloodshed, the violence, the darkness, and the loss of my soul are all worth it as long as I can come home to her in my bed and in my arms. I would spend an eternity in hell if it means I get a single lifetime with her.

My hands travel down Mira’s body, tracing the curves of her hips and thighs. The silk of her nightgown glides over my palms like warm water against my skin, and she gasps as I grip her waist, pulling her close to me so that our bodies press together with a perfect fit. Her heat emanates through the fabric, coaxing a primal desire within me that I can’t contain—that I don’t want to contain. I feel her heart pounding against my chest in time with mine, like two drums beating in unison, our breaths mingling in the space between us while our lips meet with an urgency that takes over all thought.

“I want to make love to you,” I murmur, and her lips pull into a smile against mine.

“Are you asking?”

“Fuck, no.” I smirk and slide a hand over her hip, taking her panties as I pull them down her legs. My need for her intensifies, and I guide her leg over my waist, spreading her thighs to make room for my body as I move her on her back and slip between her legs. I kiss her lips like it would mean death if I don’t, and I groan softly as she wraps herself around me, and we both hiss at the contact of our warm bodies. Our breaths come out in ragged pants, my cock nudging at her wet entrance.

I break the kiss to look down at her, brushing a fingertip along the scar on her face. “You’re beautiful,” I murmur, and she licks her lips, those beautiful irises staring straight through my dark soul. My body, my heart, my mind, everything is in awe of her—this gorgeous fucking creature I get to call mine.

I push forward, shifting the angle until just the head of my cock is inside her. Her heat feels exquisite, like magma pouring through my veins, and while I stare down at her, drinking in her perfect features, watching her mouth form the perfect O as I sink into her deeper, I know that my life flows through her veins. My heart beats in her chest. And my soul is no longer mine. It’s hers.

“I love you, Mira,” I rasp as I slowly push inside her until I fill her completely. “You are my life,” I say as I ease out of her. “I would give up my last goddamn breath for you, Hummingbird.” With a single thrust, I’m buried deeply in her again, her fingernails digging into my shoulders, the sharp ache spurring me on.

“God, you feel incredible,” she moans, her voice strained with desire, and I’m overwhelmed by the thought of owning her ecstasy—knowing her body longs for me and me alone.

Her eyes flutter shut as I ease out before sinking my slickened cock back into her, repeatedly, taking my time, feeling her pussy walls clamp down on my cock. Each slow stroke brings a rush of sensation, driving me wild with want. The gentle rocking of the bed, the grunts I make while fighting for control, and her little noises that say she’s enjoying this as much as I am all make up a symphony of ecstasy. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, leaving a sting laced across my flesh while the heat builds between us until I’m sure we’ll both burn to ash.

“Please,” Mira begs, her voice rough with pleasure even as I continue to rock into her leisurely.

“Not yet,” I whisper. My gaze is etched on her face as I gently sweep a strand of blonde hair to the side—her pussy getting slicker with every stroke of my cock. “I don’t want this to be over yet.”

I claim her mouth, committing her sweet taste to memory, her lips burning mine with a perfect heat. This woman is like cocaine to my addiction, and I want to spend the rest of my life high on her. There is nothing else I need more than her. She’s my fucking religion.

The room sings with the sounds of our breathless whispers and the rhythmic cadence of our bodies moving together. It’s a symphony of passion, a testament to the raw, primal connection that exists between us—something I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Her pussy starts to throb around me, and I know she’s close when she shuts her eyes, arching her back, pressing her breasts into my chest. I lean down and capture a nipple in my mouth, gently sucking, licking, teasing the hard bud with the tip of my tongue, pressing a palm against her hip as I continue to move in and out of her. I shift my leg upward, my thigh pressing against her ass, needing to be deeper inside her, wanting her to feel all of me.

“Nicoli,” she pants. “Please.”

My momentum increases, as does her breathing, and her body quivers beneath mine.

“Come with me,” I whisper. “Come with me, baby girl.” With each stroke, we spiral higher, and she holds on tight to my shoulders while she throws back her head and lets out a loud moan of pleasure.

“Look at me, Mira,” I command, my gaze never leaving hers. “Let me see those beautiful eyes when you come.”

At my words, her eyes snap open, locking on to mine, her body quivering, her cheeks flushed and fucking beautiful. A cry escapes her lips as she succumbs to the wave of ecstasy crashing over her, and it’s enough to push me over the edge with her.

We both gasp and moan as our climax washes over us, and I’m lost in her, my rhythmic thrusts growing erratic as nothing else matters but the pleasure that explodes between us. If magic existed, this would be it. This moment. Us.

I collapse onto her, my heart thundering against hers as we drown in rapture. We’re both breathless while my cock still twitches deep inside her, and I shudder as the last aftershocks continue to ripple. She quivers beneath me as I slowly slip out, our cum warm and wet between our slippery bodies.

As our breathing gradually returns to normal, I pull Mira close, enfolding her in my arms. The intensity of what we’ve shared lingers between us, a reminder of the undeniable connection that binds us together. She looks up at me, her irises pools of emotion, and I kiss her tenderly, wishing I could bottle this moment and keep it forever. I don’t want it to end.

My arms wrap around her protectively as I press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you, too, Li.”

A single tear breaks free from her lashes and slides down the side of her face, breaking against her cheek. I watch it fall as if in slow motion and then catch it with my thumb. Her expression changes from rapture to sadness.

“Mira, what’s wrong?”

She pauses for a moment, her eyes clouded with emotion, the sight of it clawing a hole inside my gut. She looks past me, up at the ceiling, her bottom lip trembling.

“Mira, baby.” I take her chin and force her to look at me. “What’s wrong?”

Her rosy lips pull in a thin line before she murmurs, “There’s something we need to talk about.”