Once Dante was diapered and dressed, Beth settled into the rocker in the corner, placing a pillow on her lap to protect her incision and help support the baby’s weight. Holding their wriggling son with practiced ease, she slipped the robe off her right shoulder and exposed her swollen breast.

Matteo swallowed, feeling so out of his element here.

Damn you, Pop.

He should have told him.

He tried to tell him.

Matteo knew it was another lesson. His father expected loyalty and blind obedience. Matteo had given him the one but not the other. As a result, he’d stayed on the hunt each time that his father had wanted him to come home. By delaying his return, he’d missed Beth’s pregnancy. Her labor. Their son’s birth. The first two goddamn months his life, for Christ’s sake.

Dante lunged. His opened mouth latched on and started working, pulling nourishment from Beth’s body while Matteo watched, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with her now.

Women got cleared for sex at six weeks, right? Surely, anal before that. There was always her mouth. The baby was almost two months old. She should be good to go. Primed and ready.

She didn’t look it, though.

They’d seen each other naked, but right now, even clothed, she looked like she felt raw. Vulnerable. She was nervous. She didn’t know what he would do with her. Frankly, he didn’t either.

Fuck it all.

But she’d given him a son. More than that, she’d seen to it that Dante knew him. She had his picture, and she’d been showing their son a video. Probably a news clip about the restaurant. He’d surely seen it more than once, for Dante to be able to recognize him.

“You could read him a book,” she suggested. “It’s never too soon to start.”

“Another night,” he said. Right now, he just wanted to watch. Once the baby got back to sleep, he could have Beth to himself.

She fed him from both sides, burping him after each one. “If I don’t get rid of the gas, he’ll wake up screaming,” she explained. “It’s really painful. Colic was bad enough, but we made it through. He spent a lot of hours in his pumpkin seat. Being more upright with his legs bent helped ease his symptoms.”

From the sound of it, Matteo was glad that he’d missed that part. Sleeping babies, he could handle. Screaming babies? Not so much.

“He’s not sleeping through the night yet. When will he do that?” The image flashed of him screwing Beth and her moans competing with the crying baby across the hall. Jesus.

Beth shook her head and laughed. “Months? Years? Who knows? I have a friend who breastfed two and didn’t get a full night’s sleep for five years, between breastfeeding and having genius kids who run on almost no sleep. She says it can be brutal. Hopefully, once he starts eating other things, he’ll go longer between feedings. Right now, it’s every two to three hours.”

She rubbed Dante’s back a few more minutes. “I think he’s gone,” she whispered. “Now comes the tricky part—getting him to stay that way.”

Pulling the pillow from her lap, she put it on the floor beside the rocker and eased herself to a stand. Dante had melted onto his mother. His little face was framed by the burping cloth that protected her clothing.

Gliding across the floor, she eased him off her shoulder and gingerly lowered him into the crib, laying him on his back. Slipping her hands from underneath him, she put one on the baby’s chest, over his heart. The little fists that had been twitching stilled.

Beth raised the side of the crib, nudging it into the closed position with a soft click that made Dante jerk. She started breathing again when he settled back down.

Putting a finger to her lips, she tiptoed to the door. Matteo grabbed the bottle of baby oil from the changing table and followed. Once they were in her room, behind closed doors, her nerves came back full force. Shifting on her feet, she wrung her hands and eyed him like he was her executioner—which was still in the realm of possibilities but unlikely. So far, she’d done nothing to warrant elimination.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

Beth stiffened. “Like what?” she rasped, her voice tight.

“Like I’m going to snuff you. I’m not. You’ve proven yourself useful where my son is concerned. Time to prove yourself useful to me.”

Setting the baby oil on the nightstand by the bed, Matteo considered the possibilities and decided to take the edge off with a blowjob. He hadn’t had one since Chiara. Oral sex topped the plus side of having a regular girlfriend.

It looked like Beth was his next one.

For now, anyway.

Matteo sat on the end of her bed. “Come here,” he growled.

She came reluctantly to where he sat. Remaining just out of reach, she knit her hands and worried her lower lip, eying him as fearfully as if he had an actual gun rather than the threat of one.

He fastened his gaze on her mouth. “You know what I want, Beth. You. Naked. On your knees. Take me out and show me what you can do. No teeth,” he warned, “and you’ll swallow whatever I give you, capisci?”

She ditched the robe, folded her legs, and knelt between his feet. Nerves made her fingers clumsy, but she managed to push the button at his waistband through its hole and work his zipper down. His erection strained against the fabric of his silk boxers. She slipped her small hand inside the opening, wrapped her fingers around his dick, and pulled him out.

Her hair was still back in that fancy do. He would have loved to fist it, drive his engorged length into her mouth, and fuck the hell out of her face. Instead, he waited. Waited to see what she would do.

What she could do.

If she didn’t deep throat, she’d need to learn.

Beth kissed his cock, pressing her lips to the crown, the shaft, making her way down the underside until she reached the sensitive spot at the base. She teased it with her tongue, kissed and sucked it while her clever fingers played with the rest of his cock.

She dipped her head a bit lower and started nuzzling his balls. She tongued them, stroking his shaft with her fingers while she took each testicle in her mouth and savored it like she had her first bite of veal at dinner tonight.

Licking her way back up, she fondled his balls and jacked him, bathing his head with her tongue, lapping the drop of pre-cum that pearled in the tip, stroking the crown and tracing the rim. She teased the sensitive spot beneath where the crown met the shaft, flicking it with the hardened tip of her tongue, kissing it, sucking it, making him even stiffer.

Finally, she opened her mouth and took him inside, working her tongue over his cock while increasing the suction. She began moving her head, cheeks hollowing while she blew him, working his length with her mouth and fingers.

He’d had better, but she was pretty good. He wasn’t going to tell her that she showed promise, though. Let her work for it.

“Yes,” he hissed. “That’s it, bella. Suck me.”

Encouraged, she took him in deeper. Eight-and-a-half inches was a lot to handle, but he was thick, too. An old girlfriend had compared him to a summer sausage. She was exaggerating, of course, but it made things interesting when she’d find a way to work “summer sausage” into a conversation and let him know that she wanted more of his meat.

“Take me down your throat,” he ordered.

Beth stilled. Inhaling deeply, she lowered her head, shifting angles to take more and more of him in. His crown pushed along her palate and poked the back of her throat, but stopped short of going further.

“All of it,” he grated. “You do it, or I will.”

She tried again, managing to take in another half-inch.

“More,” he said. “Don’t stop until your nose is nudging me.”

She did okay. Better than most, anyway. She managed to swallow seven inches. He made her take the rest, fisting that hair of hers, ruining her do, making her eyes run and her nose redden when he started fucking her face in earnest, forcing his way down her throat until she’d taken all of him in.

She gripped his thighs and hung on. She knew better than to fight him. This was only going to go one way—his way—and the sooner she accepted it, the easier things would be for her.

When he felt his climax coming, he pulled out of her mouth, releasing the suction with an audible pop. Grabbing her forearms, he pulled her to her feet and kissed her, smelling himself on her skin, taking possession of her mouth in a ruthless claiming of lips and teeth and tongue. Grasping her buttocks, he lifted her against him and carried her to the side of the bed, not stopping until the nightstand was within reach.

He’d had her pussy. He’d had her mouth. It was time to claim her ass.

Matteo set her on her feet. Grasping her wrists, he pulled her into place beside the bed and pushed her face-down onto it. Shoving his hand between her legs, he felt how wet she was. He added to it, working one finger into her pussy, which was just as sweet as he remembered. Tight. Wet. Responsive.

She moaned into the sheets and pressed back against his hand, wanting more.

He gave it to her, adding a second finger and fucking her with twisting strokes of his hand. Her tension grew. He fucked her harder, changing his angle so that he was rubbing her clit.

“Vieni per me,” he ordered. “Come for me.”

She stiffened and broke. A shattering orgasm sent her body into convulsions and set her walls spasming, catching his fingers in a death grip that made him wish it was his dick.

Well, hell. Why not?

Spitting on his fingers, he wet the tip of his erection, found her opening, and drove his cock inside her. She squealed into the mattress at his invasion. Her walls still rippled around him. He went deeper, hips starting to pump, fucking a pussy that hadn’t known a man in eleven months. She was as tight as a virgin—not that he’d had any. He preferred guilt-free liaisons with women who knew what to do and could handle him when he wanted it rough.

He picked up the pace, pounding into her, holding her hips with a bruising grip that would likely leave marks tomorrow. He smacked her ass, red handprints blooming like roses in a summer garden. She came again, juices wetting his length, her walls milking him. When the last spasms faded, he reached for the bottle on the nightstand.

Pulling out, he drizzled baby oil on her crack. Beth went still. Smart girl. She knew what was coming. She knew better than to beg him not to take her there. Her life and everything in it—including her ass—was his.

Still, he needed to know. “Have you done anal before?”

“No.” Her admission was a shame-filled whisper, barely loud enough to be heard.

“So,” he drawled, “you’re a virgin here?” He pushed a finger into her back door, smiling when she tightened up. If she couldn’t relax enough to take him, he didn’t mind making her cry.

“Yes,” she croaked, bracing herself against his invasion of her most private place.

“Not for long.”

Pouring oil into his palm, Matteo lubed his length, more for his pleasure than for hers. Too dry was no fun. He preferred a long, smooth slide when he was tunneling in.

He pressed his head against her pucker. “Push back,” he instructed. “Open up for me. That’s it.”

She came back against him, impaling herself on his cock, letting him past the first ring of muscle and the second to gain her warm, clinging depths. He pushed in deep, and deeper yet, not stopping until his entire length was buried inside her.

She felt good. So good. Unfuckingbelievable.

Bending forward, he braced himself on his forearms and lowered his torso until his chest rubbed her back. He jacked his hips, pinning her to the mattress while his teeth scored her shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he filled his lungs with the scent of jasmine and the smell of sex before fastening his mouth at the base of her neck and biting it. He claimed her like a stallion mounted a mare, hot and hard, driving into her depths repeatedly.

Knowing that he was the first to take her there fueled his lust and enhanced his pleasure. She was struggling to find hers—but then he was taking her ass like she was a seasoned pro instead of a novice. Her anus was stretched to the max, the tissue almost white.

He wedged a hand beneath her, found her clit, and worked it with his fingers while he fucked her ass. Her body responded, opening a bit more for him until her next climax sent her hurtling over the edge. This time, he went with her. Burying himself to the root, he shot his wad in the depths of her bowels where he wouldn’t have to worry about knocking her up again so soon.

She stayed exactly where she was until he gave her permission to move. As fucks went, she ranked high up on the list. As women went, he’d have to hand her the gold medal. She had a lot of plusses and very few minuses that he’d seen, compared to some. Except for that damn allergy of hers, she was pretty fucking perfect.

His old man had seemed fairly confident that he would want to keep her. Matteo smiled. What was Dom Visconti going to say when he told him that he’d decided to do more than that?

Not that it mattered. It would serve his meddling father right. Any problems in that regard would come from Pop, not Beth. She would do whatever it took to stay alive and be with her son…

Even if it meant marrying into the mob.