Page 79 of The Don’s Omega

His seed is hot and full in my abdomen and I cling to him, inhaling his comforting scent. My body begins to slowly quiet and my muscles are warm and loose. We’re both breathing hard, and he lowers himself down onto me, his breath hot against my skin.

Then his knot starts to swell.

I feel it build at the base, stretching me wider, but this time I don’t panic. This time I breathe and let my body open and take it, and when it locks us together the pressure tips me straight into a third climax, smaller but longer, that rolls through me in waves and leaves me wrung out and shaking.

He gathers me against him, careful of the knot binding us, and rolls us onto our sides so I’m tucked into his chest. We’re sealed together, going nowhere. His arm is heavy around my back and his breath hot and uneven against my hair. My heart rate begins to calm as he strokes his hand slowly over my lower back. The musky scent of sex and slick surrounds us, and I feel safe tucked in my alpha’s arms.

For a long time neither of us moves. The room is dim and warm and quiet except for our breathing slowing in tandem. His chest rises and falls, and he continues to absently stroke my back, my hip, like he can’t quite stop touching me. I should probably feel trapped, knotted to an alpha I’ve known a matter of weeks. But I don’t. I feel anchored. Maybe it’s a foolish reaction, considering who Marcello is, but I feel content.

We stay like that for a long while, holding each other until the knot recedes. We both get up to clean ourselves off and use the restroom. I’m not sure if Marcello wants me to go back to my own room, but my question is answered when he pushes me back toward his bed. We climb under the covers and he pulls me back into his arms.

It’s warm and comfortable in his big bed with his strong arms around me. I almost start to doze off, but he speaks, startling me awake.

“It’s hard for you to trust, isn’t it?” he asks quietly.

I go still, surprised by the question. I don’t know why he’s asking that. When I don’t respond, he continues talking.

“I don’t take it personally. I don’t think you trust anyone. Except Fabio, of course.” He sighs. “I suppose it makes sense. You were so young when your parents died. It’s always just been you and Fabio.”

I pull back and meet his gaze, trying to figure out if he’s mocking me or something. He meets my gaze and his eyes are back to their normal dark brown. I see nothing unpleasant in his eyes. There’s only curiosity.

“Why do you care about whether I trust people or not?” I frown.

“Why shouldn’t I care?”

“It just seems weird that you would,” I murmur, resting my head against his shoulder again.

“It isn’t weird at all. I respect how much you love your brother. I understand the bond between brothers better than you’d think.” His voice is hushed.

Something in his tone has changed. The roughness is still there but the steel underneath it has gone soft, uncertain. I hope he’ll keep talking. I want to know how he understands my bond with Fabio.

“What do you mean?” I ask hesitantly.

“I… I had a brother,” he says.

Shocked, I don’t say anything. I’ve been here weeks and no one has spoken of a brother. Not at the dinners. Not in passing. Not Serafina, not Carlo, not the staff. There has been no presence of a brother anywhere in this house.

“He was older than me. His name was Adriano.” He says the name stiffly, like it’s been a while since he said it.

I sit up on my elbow, needing to see his face. “You had a brother? How come you never mentioned him before?”

Pain shifts through his eyes. “I guess it’s hard to talk about him.”

He’s being so open, I’m not sure how to proceed. I don’t want to pry too much and have him clam up, but I’m curious. His brother must have died judging from his expression and his words. “What happened to him?”

“He was killed. Murdered. Fourteen months ago.” His voice is flat. “He was ambushed in a meeting by people we thought we could trust.” He meets my horrified gaze. “That’s how it is in this world. People smile in your face and stab you in the back the next.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, resting my hand over his heart. “I… I can’t even imagine how awful that is for you.”

He grimaces and puts his hand over mine. “I think you might be one of the few people who actually can imagine how awful it is.”

I suppose he’s right. I’d be gutted if Fabio died.

He clears his throat. “He was better than me in every way. Sharper. Warmer. People loved him. Wanted to follow him. He… he could walk into a room full of men ready to kill each other and have them shaking hands by the end of the night. That was his gift.” He smiles as if remembering his brother. “He led with his head and his charm. I tend to lead with intimidation. It’s fucking unfair that he’s the one who died.”

I frown. “Meaning what? You think you should have died instead?”

His eyes darken. “Yes. Of course. I was just an enforcer. I was never supposed to lead the family. I was the expendable one.”