Not Mine to Keep (The Costa Family)

Oyster Bay, Long Island—Three Days Later

“Yes, yesss—”

I cupped her mouth, silencing her cries as she climbed closer to orgasm, and the little devil stuck her tongue out, swiping at my palm.

“My parents are going to hear we’re being bad and breaking the doctor’s orders.” I continued thrusting in her without losing momentum. “Be a good girl and give me a second before you moan again, okay?”

She nodded, and I kept moving so she didn’t lose the high she was chasing, making sure my pelvic bone rubbed against her sensitive spot every time I slammed into her. Spying the belt atop my jeans on the floor next to us, I grabbed it. I barely remembered how or when we’d wound up going from the bed to the hardwood.

“You’ve been looking for a reason to put that in my mouth, and you know it.” A wicked gleam flashed across her face before I offered her the leather to bite down on.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

“Maybe.” I smirked, waiting for her to follow orders and clamp down on the belt. “That’s my girl.”

Both hands on each side of her again, I bucked and moved harder, taking her all the way to the peak. When she arched off the floor while coming, I shifted my weight to one forearm and pinned her back down beneath me, fucking her with everything I had in me.

The belt slipped free from her mouth, and she stared at me with drunk-looking, sated eyes.

“Come inside me.” She whispered the reminder . . . not that I needed one. How could I forget her asking me to do that?

“Yes, ma’am,” I said before grunting, zero hesitation as I spilled inside my wife.

A few seconds later, I collapsed alongside her on the blanket beneath us.

“We had sex in your parents’ house.” She rolled to the side and propped her head up with her hand and elbow. My cum had to be dripping everywhere, but she didn’t seem to notice. “And we broke the doctor’s orders.”

“There was no reason to hold back. I’m fine. Nothing broken. Not even a sprain. Wasn’t shot or cut. Could’ve been much worse.”

She cringed. “Every time I think about you and . . .” Her eyes closed, and a shaky exhalation fell from her barely parted lips.

“I’m fine.” Nothing compared with what Constantine had endured.

“If you’re so fine,” she said while peeling open her eyes and I shifted to my side to face her, “then why didn’t we make love last night?”

“You mistook my groan while kissing as pain because my bottom lip’s still a bit busted.” Not totally a lie. But the pain had been silenced by the pleasure of her mouth on mine. Same as it had been the other days since I’d been rescued by my brothers.

“Mmm. Your mouth seemed just fine between my legs not too long ago,” she murmured, her tone part worry, part fuck me again.

Or maybe that was my imagination. I couldn’t get enough of her. Screw the remnants of pain.

“But really, you sure you’re good? Like good-good?”

I considered what to say, knowing lying wouldn’t be the best way to handle things if I wanted to be a better man than I was before we met. “Maybe Rocco got into my head once or twice.” In truth, the asshole had hijacked my thoughts when I’d been making out with my wife last night. His words about what he’d wanted to do with her didn’t break me when he’d been alive, but they’d managed to throw me off now that he was gone. Go figure.

She reached for my arm and slid her hand along the ridges of muscles. “I know you haven’t been home long, but you can see someone and talk about what happened. Post-traumatic stress is nothing to be ashamed about.”

My shoulders relented from their tensed position. “I’ve been seeing a therapist for years. I guess I never told you that.”

Her mouth rounded into a little surprised O, like an invitation for my tongue to slide in, but I refrained from kissing her, assuming she wanted to hear more.

“I’ve been seeing a shrink because of my addiction to the hunt,” I admitted. “Well, my former addiction.” My attention fell to her breasts. “I have a new addiction. A much healthier one. Never want to be cured of it.” Trying to pull off a charming look but probably failing since my face was still a bit rough, I added, “I think I told you about my obsession with you.”

“Mmm, you may have mentioned it,” she murmured before sighing. “Do you think you’ll keep seeing your therapist?”

“Probably, but you should see someone, too. You’ve been through quite a lot.”

“Maybeeee, but first, I need to figure out our next steps.”

“Well, next we get you cleaned up. So we take some steps to my bathroom. Then sneak the blanket into the wash without my mom catching us. Third step, we make love again, but maybe on the bed, and—” I let go of my words at the knock on the door, and my wife’s startled eyes had me nearly laughing.

“You decent?” Constantine called out.

“Hardly,” I answered, not yet ready to move. “What’s up?”

“Surprise guest visitor. Gabriel’s here and talking to Dad.”

That had me getting up quickly. I helped Calliope to her feet, unable to miss my cum now sliding down the inside of her thigh. “Give us five minutes, and we’ll be down.”

“Take ten and wash up. Mom will lecture you about not keeping your dick in your pants after the doctor told you to.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled, watching Calliope’s cheeks pink from embarrassment. I balled up the blanket on the floor and felt like I was fifteen when I shoved it under my bed to hide it. “Let’s take a quick shower.”

“Good idea.” She led the way to the en suite bathroom, and I reminded myself I’d need to keep my hands to myself while we washed up.

But once beneath the water, as she did her best not to get her hair wet, not touching her proved too hard to do. Those perfect tits and the water rivulets sliding down her skin had me reaching for her. I cupped her breasts with one hand and her ass cheek with the other.

“Gabriel’s downstairs.” She stared at me with wet lashes and her fuck-me eyes.

“This ass, Little Miss”—that was now my abbreviated nickname for her—“needs to be taken and soon.”

“Maybe not in your parents’ house with Gabriel downstairs.” She smiled but leaned forward and kissed me. “They’re going to let us go to our place soon, right? How long will your mom keep us here?”

“Surprised she’s even letting us share a bedroom, considering she wants us to follow the doc’s orders.” I pushed a finger around between her ass cheeks, just testing the waters a little, and she still didn’t budge. That’s my girl.

“Gabriel,” she sputtered, but closed her eyes when I dropped my mouth over hers and kissed her, pushing the tip of my finger into her puckered hole. Her soft sounds of pleasure dropped into my mouth as we made out.

As I tested another inch inside her, my hand at her breast went to the column of her throat, and I lightly gripped. “You’re fuck-tight, sweetheart,” I said against her mouth. “Yeah, you’re right, this can’t happen here. You’re going to scream—in a good way—when I fuck you there.”

“Guess I’ll need the belt again.” She lifted her brows, and we were seemingly both oblivious to time, space, and life outside of right now.

I removed my finger from my woman’s tight hole, and I could feel her ass cheeks unclench.

“We need to get free of Mom’s house arrest and fast.” I grabbed the loofah and squirted soap on it before lathering her up.

Nothing better than making her dirty, only to clean her up myself after. I couldn’t wait to spend my entire life doing exactly this.