His: Tony: The Sabatini Family by Fiona Murphy (sneezy the snowman read aloud TXT) 📕

her into our room. I pull back the covers, put her on the bed, and tuck her in. Undressing, in the walk-in closet I find she has added more clothes to the closet. Tension eases inside me. I never removed her clothes, everything of hers remained even when Carmella must have asked a dozen times if I wanted to get rid of it. She would need something when I found her and brought her kicking and screaming back to me was my thought, so it all stayed.

When I walk out of the closet, I feel her eyes on me. I turn off the light as I get in bed. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, I listen to her breathing.

“I’m sorry.” I run a hand over my face. “I should never have touched you like that. No matter what you did, you didn’t deserve—”

She moves, her mouth is on mine. Her kiss is desperate, and I fight the savage desire welling up. Slow. Careful. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve this. Except, fucking hell—I can’t let her go.

***

Christy

As Tony stood over me in Rosie’s room, I worked to keep my breathing even and tears from my eyes. The agony and shame clung to him so potent the emotions became mine. Agony at how badly I hurt him, shame for daring to say I loved him, yet taking his love and him for granted.

Who the hell does that? Who dares to say I love you in the same breath as saying they are sorry for walking away from that love? Me, I did that. I don’t deserve him welcoming me back with open arms. And he’s not, his arms aren’t open, they’re wrapped around him. He’s trying to protect himself from me hurting him again. No, I don’t deserve him but I’ll bear all the pain, and take everything he is willing to give me.

Tony rolls me under him and seconds later, the bedside table lamp comes on.  I flinch from the sudden brightness. “Tony.” I shake my head.

A hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb running over my lips. “I have dreamed of you every damn night lying here in the dark. There were times I swore it was real. Piccolina, I need the light to see you by. No more darkness; this is no dream.”

I can only nod. No more tears tonight. At last, I give into the need to touch him. So beautiful, I sigh as I run my hand over his cheek.  His beard is filled with silver.

“You don’t like my beard.”

How Tony, a question that’s not a question. I smile as I trail my hand down his chest. “I don’t hate it. It’s just...different. You’re so beautiful, and it hides—”

With a growl, he takes my mouth. I feel the fight in him to be gentle. A thrill shoots through me, he still wants me. All those women be damned. I’m the only one he wanted.  I’m the only one who makes him feel this way.

Slowly, too slowly, his hands trace over my entire body followed by his mouth as he learns me all over again. My breath catches as he studies my breasts, weighing one, then the other with his hand before his tongue tastes me, sucking deep and pulling a cry from the center of me.

“You’ve changed. You made and carried our daughter. Thank you,” he whispers against my mouth as he catches my bottom lip and sucks hard. “I love your body. Every inch of you is beautiful.”

Blue burns into sapphire and I believe him. I run my hand over his hard ass and smile. “You haven’t changed a bit, except maybe gotten a little harder.”

“Hmm...” Oh my. He runs his cock along my lower lips, teasing me. “I’m much, much harder for you.”

His fingertips find it, the scar from Rosie’s cesarean. He goes still. His eyes meet mine with concern. “Were you okay?”

I nod, quick to reassure him. “She was stubborn and wouldn’t turn. Then became distressed. We were both fine.”

He studies me, he opens his mouth then closes it. I can read the words as clearly as if he spoke them; he wanted to be there. His mouth comes down on mine again, and I’m clinging to him, grateful he let it go. Not now, not in this moment.

Thick fingers find my weeping lower lips, gliding over the slit of me as his mouth moves down my neck, biting and teasing down to my breasts before that velvet tongue begins toying with a tight nipple. I buck up to meet his fingers only for them to trail down lower before slowly sliding up.

My hands go into his hair, at once wanting him to stop, at the same time praying he never does. Those fingers slide inside me, deeper and deeper as he sucks soft, then punishing on my breast. Oh god, I need more. I need his cock. I want Tony inside me.  I beg him.

His only answer is to begin fucking me with those fingers as he moves to my other breast. No, I want—oh, oh he turns his wrist to that beautiful glorious spot and sends me flying out of my skin as he sucks harder. I’m floating lost in a sea of pleasure when I realize Tony’s mouth has replaced his fingers.

How can I hate him and love him so much at the same time when he’s driving me crazy? It’s cruel, the way he teases me with his tongue. Before, when he did this, the sound of him devouring me always made me slightly ashamed of how wet I was. I worried it made me dirty somehow. Now, fuck yes, Tony loves this. The evidence of what making love to him does to me, how much I want him is everything to him, he moans against me. I glory in his words and simply give up to pleasure.

Fuck. My orgasm slams into me, too much. Oh, it’s too much. I scream his name. Seconds later,