Page 60 of Falling for the Mafia Dom
Covered in blood. Fueled with rage and vengeance. The eyes that look back at me are so welcoming. So soft. So full of relief and love.
“Piccolo fiore,” his name for me pained as a bloodied hand brushes over my tender face.
His wet fingers work diligently at the ropes around my wrists to free me. The moment he does, I throw my arms around his neck and pull myself against his blood-soaked body, staining my skin the same shade of crimson.
Sal wraps the blankets of Lyla’s bed around my naked body and lifts me into his arms. Holding me tightly, my temple leans against his bloodied shirt and he carries me from Lyla’s apartment. People passing by stare as he pushes through the door and steps onto the sidewalk. He doesn’t care. All of his focus is on me.
A black Tahoe pulls to a stop in front of us and I watch as four men barrel out ready for war. Sal’s sons. The two born into his family and the two that chose to join it.
Lorenzo slides back into the driver’s seat and Dante holds open the back door for Sal, while Carlo and Marco climb into a sports car parked in the middle of the street. Sliding me into the backseat on his lap, he pulls the door shut.
Both the SUV and the sports car are pulling from the front of Lyla’s building as we begin to hear the approach of police sirens. Looking over my shoulder out of the rear window of the Tahoe, I see a sea of red and blue lights stopping at her building as we turn the corner.
Sal’s bloody fingers stroke my hair as he holds me against him.
“Are you both okay?” Dante questions from the front seat.
“It’s not our blood,” Sal replies without looking up from me, “Just take us home.”
Home.
ChapterForty-Five
SALVATORE
Reaching the house, I carry Ellie inside. We pass Tristan and Lyla waiting in the living room, and I stop for just a moment for the girls to both confirm that the other is okay.
I need to rid her of him.
I take her upstairs and straight to the master bathroom. Turning on the shower, I strip out of my blood-sodden clothes as I wait for the water to warm.
Testing it with my hand and feeling its warmth, I gently pull the blanket from Ellie and let it fall to the floor. I take her hand and walk her into the shower with me.
Both of us stand under the spray, the hot water washing the blood from our skin, and it swirls down the drain.
Ellie grabs shampoo and squeezes a generous portion into her hand. Rubbing her hands together, she reaches up to me and scrubs it into my hair. When she pulls her hands back, the bubbles covering them are tinged pink. She slowly reaches up to my face and works the remaining shampoo into a lather in my beard.
I love her soft, gentle touch against my skin.
When she finishes, I bend my head under the stream to rinse the suds. I wipe the water from my face and open my eyes to find Ellie staring up at me. Noticing the blood in her hair, I grab the shampoo and work it into her golden waves. Her body rests against mine and she moans as I work the shampoo into a lather.
Fuck.
Her moans.
I try to fight against it, but my cock grows hard against her ass. She ignores it as it presses between the two of us.
Tipping her head under the water, the bloody suds stream down her body as I rinse the last of the shampoo from her hair.
The last physical remnants of Angelo swirling around the drain.
“He didn’t,” Ellie speaks for the first time since we left the apartment, “I know you’re wondering. He tried. But he couldn’t. He didn’t fuck me.”
Pulling her back against my chest, I wrap my arms around her chest and kiss the side of her neck before placing my lips against her ear, “If he had, I wouldn’t love you any less. No matter what,piccolo fiore, you are my forever. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you.”
Turning off the water, I grab us both towels to dry off. While it is only mid-afternoon, I pull back the covers for the two of us to climb into the bed.
“No,” she drops her towel and walks toward the other room, “You washed him from my skin. I want you to clean him from my mind.”
