Page 38 of His Vicious Vow

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Page 38 of His Vicious Vow

Three girls might keep me from spoiling them rotten…maybe four will be necessary. Because I can’t imagine telling a little girl who looks like her momma no.

You’re psycho!

I roll my eyes. The word doesn’t bother me. I’m well aware of what I am. I wouldn’t be so good at what I do if I weren’t.

We’ve already established that. Keep up, piccolina. As far as boys, I don’t care if we have them or not but we definitely need several girls or they’ll be as bratty as their mother.

I’ve barely hit send when she texts back.

I’m not a brat!

It’s wrong, so very wrong to laugh when I know I make her mad. I’ll need to work on that before I see her again.

I want four kids, two boys and two girls and that’s all I’m having.

Carina as a mother is something I can’t wait to see.

Knocking you up four times is good with me. As long as they are girls.

My cock is hard at the idea of Carina pregnant. Bigger tits, a bigger ass, everything rounder…I cannot wait.

I thought all mafia men wanted boys

Chest tight at the idea of her hearing from Carlo how disappointed he was that she wasn’t a boy I wish to fuck I could take her into my arms.

Not all. Especially when their woman is as gorgeous as you are. If we only have two girls I’m going to spoil them rotten. It will be a disaster.

Another text comes in. I need to handle Ben for the last time. When I got in last night I wasn’t in the mood. So I let Gaetano torture him for a few hours. He hasn’t eaten or had anything but a bottle of water in the last few days. But he’s dying and if I want to be the one who ends him, I need to get there now I’m being warned.

Did you dream of me last night?

I leave my suit jacket where it is on the back of my chair, better not to worry about blood getting on it, as I text Bobby that I’m ready to go. There’s no answer from Carina. My last text did exactly what I wanted, ended the conversation and confirmed she dreamt of me. Checking the time, I see it’s almost midnight in Chicago.

I dreamed of you too. Goodnight, dear wife.

There’s no answer. I didn’t expect there to be. Even though I hate cutting our connection I want to handle Ben myself.

* * *

Carina

I sigh as I close the phone. A flip phone. I’m being forced to use a flip phone because it won’t let me online. What pisses me off is my tiny burner phone won’t let me online either, it’s also strictly for phone calls. The only person I can call, want to call is Celia. I’ve only let myself call her twice. After the frantic call I made the morning with Sandro I was embarrassed by how I must have upset her. Especially when I lied to her and myself.

Damn Sandro and his know-it-all asshole ways. He said yes and I had to say no. The intense wave of pleasure from my initial orgasm became almost painful with the one he forced on me to come with him to ensure a pregnancy made me want to smack him. Yet when he came inside me…the pleasure sent me into another realm. The bastard was right. I wanted more of the scalding heat that took all those shattered pieces of me and put me back together.

For two insane seconds I hoped it took years for me to become pregnant, not because I didn’t want to be—so he would keep filling me with the essence of him the way he promised. The thought shocked the fuck out of me, sending me out of bed before I did the unthinkable and pleaded for him to do it again.

Sandro left me with a warning that brought tears to my eyes. Even if he died he would come back to me. How dare he do that? Give me one more fear of being with him that I could love him and lose him not only from him walking away but being taken away through death. There I was with him dripping from my body. And some freakish need had me trying to stop it and pushing it back inside me. When I realized what I was doing I washed my hands, ran for my burner phone and ran back into the bathroom to call Celia.

I shouldn’t have called her while freaking out that badly, especially when I wasn’t being honest with her. I’m cringing at the idea of admitting what really happened and asking for her advice on how to handle Sandro and this insane situation.

I already made the appointment tomorrow for a birth control shot. He’s nuts. I’m not having four girls. Although god, the idea of him with little girls is sexy as hell. They will wrap him around his finger, I chuckle at the memory of his warning of it being a disaster. Almost as though he looked forward to spoiling his daughters absolutely rotten.

No, stop it. I don’t care if it’s because Sandro thinks he’ll spoil our girls because they’ll be cute like me. Except he didn’t say cute, he said gorgeous. Sandro keeps saying stuff like that. He can’t mean it. It's to manipulate and control me. To get me to become sweet and biddable. That’s it. That’s all it is. He doesn’t dream of me…does he?

So why do I spend all day waiting for him to call me again? And why the hell do I not pick up?

Dream of me, dear wife?




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