Home > Books > By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(143)

By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(143)

Author:Cora Reilly

Soon her lust ran down my chin as she gripped my hair with one hand while the other clung to the sink.

“Give me everything,” I rasped and she arched up with a cry. I closed my lips around her clit as her pussy pulsated against me, her arousal dripping down onto the floor.

My breathing was harsh and my cock so stiff it was excruciating. I pulled away. Greta’s pussy still twitched, glistening and even more swollen than before.

Greta stroked my hair, swallowing. She smiled down at me in wonder. “Every time you taste me, I feel so worshipped, but today was special. Thank you for this.”

“My pleasure,” I rasped.

She bit her lip as her gaze dipped lower to my cock. “You can have me if you want.”

I rubbed my thumb very lightly over her pussy. I could tell how tender it was. If I took her now, it would be as painful as last night, if not worse. I leaned forward and kissed her sore flesh. “Not today.”

There would be plenty of times for me to claim her in the future and I had every intention of doing so at every possible chance.

I glanced at my watch and cursed. Greta followed my gaze. “We only have five minutes before the old hawks from my father’s side of the family will descend on us to gather the sheets.”

Greta gave me a worried look. “The blood.”

“Get ready, I’ll take care of the blood.”

After a quick kiss, I went into the bedroom and picked up the towel, stuffing it into my suitcase. I didn’t trust the cleaning staff not to do some shit with it. I’d burn it later at home.

I grabbed my knife from the nightstand and brought the tip down on my upper arm. Once I’d spread some blood on the sheets to create a satisfying image, I got dressed. Not a moment too soon because a knock sounded. I opened the door and allowed my aunts and some wives from traditional families to gather Greta’s dress and the bloody sheets.

Gianna stepped in their way when they tried to leave. “You realize how misogynistic this tradition is, right?”

“It is a tradition we all agreed on. Even your daughter will have to follow it,” one of the women said haughtily.

“Over my dead body.” The women pushed past Gianna who glared at their backs.

Mom and Serafina lingered in the hallway, not bothering to be part of this show. Mom gave me a sympathetic smile.

“I really hope this was fake,” Gianna said with a warning look at me. She turned on her heel and stalked away.

Mom poked her head in, and Serafina hovered beside her. “Everything okay?”

“You can ask Greta yourself,” I said with a knowing look. I doubted Mom or Serafina were worried about my wellbeing, and I couldn’t really blame them.

When Greta emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white dress with red polka-dots and red flats, her eyes grew wide at the sight of our mothers hovering in the entrance area of the suite. “Is everything okay?”

Mom laughed and exchanged a look with Serafina, who said, “That’s what we were going to ask you.”

“Oh,” Greta said, her cheeks blushing, and a pleased smile parted her lips.

“No words necessary after that look,” Serafina said, flushing too. “I guess we’ll give you another moment. But you should be downstairs in ten minutes.”

With a wave, they disappeared, closing the door after them.

I pulled Greta against me. “It’s a pity that we still have social responsibilities. But we have to face the wolves now.”

“Are you referring to my family?”

“Definitely. Don’t tell me you think they won’t cause a major scene at the presentation of the sheets.”

Greta looked sheepish. “They are protective, but sometimes they behave.”

Of course, I was right. I could already feel the Falcone bunch buzz with angry energy when Greta and I entered the room. They probably would have questioned her right away if my old aunts hadn’t sauntered into the ballroom in that moment, carrying the sheets as if they were a hard-won treasure.

The blood-stained sheet spanned between the two as they turned to the crowd. I glanced at the Falcones. Nevio stood slowly, pulled his knife while Massimo poured liquid from a flask on a cloth napkin, which Nevio pierced with the blade, and Alessio lit it up with a lighter. Greta followed my gaze and so did a few others, like my dad, Matteo and Remo. Nobody did anything.

Nevio hurtled the knife with practiced precision through the room so it cut through the sheet and let it burst into flames.

My aunts and the other women around it let out screams and dropped the burning sheet. Soon the carpet was burning too.