Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

Chapter 165: Promise me you’ll always come home

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Then she left.

Eve sat on the bed beside Dimitri, careful not to jostle him.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For staying. For not leaving."

"I told you I wouldn’t leave because you got shot. I meant it." Eve took his hand. "But Dimitri, if you lie to me again, if you hide things from me again, I will leave. Not because I don’t love you. But because I can’t be in a partnership where I’m kept in the dark."

"I understand. And I won’t. I promise." He squeezed her hand. "From now on, you know everything. Even the parts I want to protect you from."

"Especially those parts."

"Especially those parts," he agreed.

They sat in silence for a while.

Finally, Eve said, "You killed fifteen men."

"Yes."

"And you’re planning to kill more. The Romano family. Retaliation for the ambush."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Soon. Mike’s gathering intel. When we know who’s in charge now, where they operate, we’ll strike. Hard. Make an example."

Eve processed that.

A month ago, that information would have horrified her.

Now? Now it just felt like reality.

"Be careful," she said. "Please."

"Always."

"And tell me before you go. Don’t just disappear to Italy to kill people without warning."

"I’ll tell you. I promise."

Eve leaned her head on his good shoulder.

"I love you," she said. "Even when you’re an idiot who hides bullet wounds."

"I love you too. Even when you’re terrifyingly perceptive and won’t let me get away with anything."

"Good. Keep it that way."

They stayed like that until Nonna called them for dinner.

And for the first time since Eve had walked in on bloody bandages, Dimitri felt like maybe....maybe...they were going to be okay.

***

That night, after dinner, after Nonna went to bed, Eve found Dimitri in their bedroom.

He was trying to undress, struggling with the shirt.

"Let me," Eve said.

She helped him carefully, avoiding the wounds, until he was down to just sleep pants.

The bandages stood out stark white against his tanned skin.

Evidence of how close she’d come to losing him.

"Come to bed," Dimitri said.

Eve climbed in beside him, careful not to jostle his shoulder.

They lay facing each other, the city lights painting shadows across the ceiling.

"I was terrified today," Eve said quietly. "When I saw all that blood. I thought you were dying."

"I’m sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Just....don’t get shot again."

"I’ll try my best."

Eve reached out, traced the edge of the shoulder bandage with gentle fingers.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"It’s manageable."

"That’s not what I asked."

Dimitri smiled slightly. "Yes. It hurts a lot."

"I wish I could make it better."

"You are making it better. Just by being here."

Eve shifted closer, pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Dimitri’s breath hitched.

"Eve...."

"I need to feel you," she whispered. "I need to know you’re really here. Really alive."

"I’m injured....."

"I know. I’ll be careful." She kissed his jaw. His neck. The hollow of his throat. "Please. I need this."

Dimitri searched her face.

Saw the fear there. The need for reassurance. For connection.

"Okay," he said. "But you control everything. Pace, depth, all of it. If it hurts too much, I’ll tell you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Eve kissed him then, she carefully straddled him, positioning herself so she wouldn’t put pressure on his wounds.

They made love slowly.

Eve controlling every movement, keeping it gentle, watching his face for any sign of pain.

When he tried to thrust up, she held his hips down.

"Let me," she whispered. "Let me take care of you."

So he did.

Lay back and let her move above him, let her set the pace, let her give him this.

And when she came....quiet and shaking, Dimitri followed her, his good hand fisting in her hair, pulling her down for a kiss that tasted like salt and love and relief.

Afterward, she collapsed carefully beside him, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I almost lost you," she whispered.

"But you didn’t. I’m here. I’m alive. I’m yours."

"Promise me you’ll always come home."

"I can’t promise that, cara. Not in this world."

"Then promise me you’ll fight like hell to come home."

"That I can promise. Every time. I’ll fight like hell to get back to you."

Eve closed her eyes, let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothe her.

They fell asleep tangled together, her hand resting over his heart, his wrapped carefully around her waist.

***

POV: ISABELLA

"Yes! Yes! Dimitri....fuck....yes...."

Isabella’s voice echoed off the walls of her Rome penthouse, her nails digging into the back of the man pounding into her from behind.

Not Dimitri.

Never Dimitri.

But close enough.

Same height. Same build. Same dark hair she could fist her hands in while he destroyed her.

She’d been doing this for weeks now.

Since she’d returned to Rome after New York. Since she’d watched Dimitri choose Eve over her. Since she’d realized that fourteen years of waiting, of preparing, of loving him had meant nothing.

The clubs helped.

The drinking helped.

But the sex....the wild, anonymous, brutal sex with men who looked like him.....that helped most of all.

This one was the best yet.

Taller than the others. Broader. Stronger.

And his cock....God, his cock was massive.

Bigger than any man she has ever fucked, which she hadn’t thought was possible.

Thicker. Longer. Stretching her to the point of pain every time he slammed home.

"Say his name again," the man growled behind her, his voice rough. "Say it."

"Dimitri...." Isabella gasped as he thrust particularly deep. "Fuck....Dimitri...please...."

The man’s hands tightened on her hips hard enough to bruise.

She loved it.

Loved the pain mixing with pleasure. Loved pretending this was Dimitri finally giving her what she’d been begging for since she was sixteen.

Even if it was a lie.

Even if this stranger was just another substitute.

"Harder," Isabella demanded, pushing back against him. "Fuck me harder...."

He complied.

Picked up the pace until the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, until Isabella’s arms gave out and her face pressed into the silk sheets, until she was screaming incoherently.

This was what she needed.

To be used. To be fucked so hard she couldn’t think about Dimitri’s rejection. Couldn’t think about Eve’s smug face. Couldn’t think about anything except the feeling of being filled, being wanted, being destroyed.

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