Page 48 of Angelo’s Vengeance (The Commission #3)

ANGELO

People who claim that jet lag isn’t real are lying.

After a shower and a hot meal, I curled up with Theo.

She smelled like sunshine and charcoal pencils, in that order, her dark hair wrapping its tendrils around me.

I tucked her against me before collapsing into a sleep filled with boats on fire and bodies floating down to Davy Jones’s locker.

When I woke Theo had a leg thrown over my hip and one of those luscious thighs pressed against my cock which was already at attention.

Rolling away, I watched as she fell back against her pillow, her eyes fluttering as she settled again into sleep, mumbling a little to herself.

The cami that she wore to bed had shifted, exposing her nipples, pink and soft in the daylight.

Unable to help myself, I leaned forward, pulling down the rest of the cami.

Her tits were luscious and ripe. Touching each one softly, I watched her face as I trailed fingers along the sides of each one, weighing them in my hands until I circled her nipples.

I even went so far as to give each one a gentle suck, so they glistened in the morning light, looking like juicy berries, wet and ripe.

I didn’t want her to wake. I remembered she’d said that I had her permission.

The thought made me even harder, and I had to take my cock in my hand encircling it in a vice grip collapsing against the pillows as I watched her.

Maybe I’d lie here and jerk off while she slept.

My balls tightened. Perhaps I’d do both.

Jerk off and then fuck her. Indulging for a moment, I worked my length lazily with the pre-cum that had already gathered, watching Theo the whole time.

I was close. Moving my hand faster along my shaft I let myself go, my cock jerking as I came.

Fighting to catch my breath, I fell back against the pillows.

I could clean myself up, but instead I scooped up my come and parted Theo’s thighs so I could spread it over her pussy.

She was soft and warm. I went back for more come and repeated the pattern until she was slick, opening like a flower.

Already I could sense that she was aroused, her body flushing, her pussy beginning to weep.

Kneeling between her thighs, I watched her face for signs she was awake.

She looked asleep, but I remembered what she’d said …

she’d told me she would pretend while I stuffed her full.

Working my fingers into her channel, I teased back and forth circling in and out, around her clit and back inside just shallowly.

She was soaked already, dripping over my hand.

My dirty girl.

My cock was hard as iron again as I eased inside a tiny bit, just the tip.

My thighs trembled with the effort. If she was asleep, I was going to keep her that way.

Her face was still relaxed, but there were signs of restlessness.

Maybe she thought she was dreaming? Leveraging myself over her, I thrust shallowly, so slowly that I thought I might die of pleasure as the tip dove in and out.

Whispering to her quietly, “Who’s my dirty girl? Look how naughty you are.”

I worked a little further, my pelvis pumping languidly back and forth.

This was heaven, I thought. Fucking my pretty little angel.

There was no way I could hold back anymore, though, against all that white hot heat.

She was dripping all over my cock, and that was all it took for me to blow my load even with my cock only partially inside her and my hand gripping the base.

Jesus.

Leaning back on my knees, I took in the sight of her. Rumpled with come dripping out of her. Perfection. When she opened her eyes and gave me a sleepy smile, I couldn’t help but be pleased.

She wiggled her bottom a little and eased a hand between her dripping thighs. “Having fun?”

“Very much so. About to have more.” No way would I be leaving her wanting, not to mention I had every intention of making up these last few days that we’d missed. If I could spend every day in bed with her, I would.

Flipping her over, I arranged her on her knees. “Push that ass out, piccola . Let me see that pretty pussy of yours. I want to see it dripping.” I gave her ass an experimental smack watching her moan and wiggle. “Were you pretending, little girl?”

She moaned as she did as I asked, even as I smacked her other cheek, watching the red bloom over her flesh. I knew she liked it when I gave her a light spanking, and I was going to comply at every opportunity. Her pussy was pink and swollen and dripped now as she did as I asked.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” I covered her body with mine rubbing myself against her, my semi-hard cock against the crack of her ass as I moved back and forth. Snaking a hand around to her clit I darted my fingers through her slippery folds to flick her clit.

“I’m so close,” she whimpered. Her greedy pussy latched onto my fingers as I pumped them into her in time with my thrusts.

“What were you dreaming about, beautiful. Be truthful?” My fingers pinched her clit.

“Uh,” she stammered as she squirmed.

My cock was at attention now and I stilled my fingers as she tried to gain purchase. “Or were you pretending? Just wanting me to fill you up, hmm?”

“Angelo, please. I can’t remember.”

Her body was pliant under mine, her folds slippery with fluid.

I had only one thought. I was going to fill her with more.

Make her come. Put a baby inside her. Today.

My cock slid against her skin as I flattened the palm of my hand making it impossible for Theo to get any gratification. “You want my cock you greedy girl?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” She pressed against my hand as I pushed hard against her.

“How do you want it, Theo? I could put it here?” I pulled back and held my cock against her tiny forbidden hole.

“Do you want it there?” She whimpered so delicately that I was tempted to try it, but she wasn’t ready for that.

Slapping her on her ass my cock jumped as the red raised underneath the skin.

“Use your voice. Where should I put it?”

“My pussy. Put it in my pussy. Please. ”

“That’s my good girl.” Notching to that pretty pussy of hers I rammed into her, curving over her body so that I could capture that kernel of nerves at the same time as I pistoned in and out of her desperately until she fluttered around me with a scream.

“Fuck yes. Milk me dry. This is what I meant when I said I’d fill you up, piccola . Every day.”

It felt like she was dragging every drop from me as I came, the ropes of come jetting into her over and over again as I jerked against her. When I collapsed next to her I set a lazy hand over her pussy to push the come back inside her.

“You’re crazy. You know that?” she said, giving me a lazy smile. “I love it.”

It was a good thing she did, because I loved her. So much that my heart hurt.

I rolled my shoulders, glancing at the passenger seat.

Theo was half-asleep, curled up in oversized white overalls, black Converse high-tops, and a long-sleeved black-and-white striped t-shirt.

I had already teased her that she was in her mime costume and gotten a smack for it.

She had her hair piled high today, lanced through with glittering sticks that she said were vintage.

Sunlight poured through the windshield in soft golden stripes as we coasted down the Hudson, on our way to a place she didn’t know existed. Not really.

A surprise.

She deserved one after being cooped up in the brownstone all this time.

I found the space the week after I returned from Romania.

Nestled on a quiet street in the Meatpacking District, it was a high-ceilinged, light-soaked corner unit with raw brick walls, industrial beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows.

It was the kind of place where dreams would get sewn into fabric, the kind of place where the very soon-to-be Theo Anthakos-Santelli would build an empire of her own.

She stirred beside me, groaning. “Where are we going again?”

I smirked. “You’ll see.”

“If this is a bait-and-switch brunch situation, Angelo, I swear to God—although I’m not unhappy to be out of the house,” she added.

“No bait. No switch.” I reached over and laced my fingers through hers. “Just trust me."

She huffed, but I saw the smile tug at her lips. She’d been glowing since I came home. And louder. Busier. Her entire brain was firing on all cylinders as wedding planning consumed every spare thought. It was infectious.

“Frankie thinks we should do a garden theme,” she said, quickly picking up the thread.

“But Cora wants old-world glamour. You should’ve seen her Pinterest boards.

It’s like Versailles and the Met Gala had a baby.

Both are pretty funny since Cora didn’t plan her wedding, and Frankie didn’t even get one.

” She frowned. “Maybe that’s why they’re so invested. ”

I chuckled. “And what do you want?” It seemed like she was struggling with that, trying to balance what everyone else wanted. Someone needed to ensure that Theo got what she wanted.

Theo leaned her head against the window. “Color. Texture. Layers. Nothing boring. And I want there to be food stations, not a sit-down dinner. People should graze and dance, not be stuck beside someone’s drunk uncle.”

“You realize we’re still probably inviting that drunk uncle.”

“Sure, but he can wander.”

She turned to me, eyes sparkling. “You don’t mind me going crazy with this, right? I know you probably pictured something quieter. Classier.”

“Theo,” I said, slowing as we pulled up to the curb, “I pictured you, which means chaos. Glitter. And a string quartet playing AC/DC. I love you . Whatever you want for a wedding. Whatever that looks like is what I want.”

“I love you, too, babe.” She laughed as I parked, then frowned. “Wait… why are we stopping here?”

I got out and walked around to open her door. “Come on. You’ll see.”

The building appeared unremarkable from the outside—an old warehouse with faded signage and worn concrete steps. However, the interior had been completely renovated into something breathtaking. I unlocked the door and stepped aside to let her enter first.

The moment the light hit her face as she stepped inside, it was worth every second of keeping the secret.

She froze. “Oh my God.”

The studio was massive, sunlight spilling across the warm hardwood floors.

Exposed brick walls framed the room, and tall windows overlooked the street.

Empty rolling racks stood, and the central table was bare—but it radiated promise.

I’d had a couple of industrial sewing machines brought in, embroidery machines, and so much fabric that there were racks filled with it.

There was even a private nook at the back, partially walled off, featuring a vintage drafting desk and a moodboard already pinned with swatches I’d stolen from her sketchbooks.

She walked in a slow circle, mouth slightly open. “Angelo… what is this?”

“It’s yours.”

She blinked at me. “What do you mean?”

I leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “You wanted to start Mythos Designs here in New York. This will give you space to work. Professional. If you wanted. No pressure.” Looking around the space, I tried to organize my thoughts.

I thought I had prepared the speech, but I had been wrong.

“When this whole thing started, you left New York to pursue something. I don’t want you to ever feel cheated or that you made a bad bargain.

In Florence, you had started something great.

My mother messed that up for you.” I still wasn’t saying it right.

She moved slowly, reverently, touching the beams, running her hand along the windowsill. “This is insane. I ….”

“You deserve everything.” I reached for her, wrapping my arms around her, pressing my face to her shoulder. “I’m going to make sure you have it.”

She tilted her face to mine, eyes glassy. “You know you aren’t responsible for what your mother did.”

The words hit like a hammer. But I didn’t flinch.

“I know, but I’m still connected to that woman and what she did.

” I hadn’t confessed to Remo yet that I’d had a chance to find out who his father was, and I’d turned it down.

I wasn’t sure it’d do him any good to know that information.

“The studio isn’t about her. I want you to be happy here. ”

“This is gorgeous. I love it.” She leaned in for a kiss, letting me bend her back so I could nip at her throat.

There were still calls I needed to make—loose ends in Naples and Singapore, and a few men who needed reminding that the Commission was neither weak nor fractured, but that could wait.