Page 63 of Devil’s Azalea (Nightshades #3)

EMILIA

“You smell so good.” Rafael’s voice is a rumbling growl against my neck as his arms snake around my waist, dragging me back into his chest where his very hard, very insistent cock digs into the crack of my ass.

“ Rafael .” A choked chuckle bubbles out when his hand sneaks up to palm my right boob. “We’re going to be late for our own New Year’s dinner.”

“It’s been the new year for over a month already. We can afford to be a little late.”

I gasp when he fondles my tit, my nipples instantly puckering and tightening in response to his touch. “You’re insatiable,” I say breathily. “You’ve had me completely to yourself for the past three weeks.”

“Not my fault my wife is so delectable.” His free hand slides down to my hip, twisting and bunching my silk dress in his grip, dragging the material up slowly. “Hold it.”

“Rafael.” My protest is weak even to my own ears as I do exactly what he commands, holding the dress up to give him access to the lower half of my body.

“Just ten minutes, amore, ” he murmurs sinfully in my ear. “I just want to make you feel good. Make you feel so good.”

I moan when he cups my pussy, my hips grinding down helplessly. My panties are already damp, my core clenching desperately.

“You’re wet already, love. Anticipating my touch, were you?” Before I can form a coherent response, his tongue flicks out to taste my throat, once, twice, before his mouth clamps over my pulse point.

“Rafael.” My head falls to the side weakly, completely surrendering as pleasure rushes through me. He’s gotten dangerously good at stoking my desire this quickly. Those weeks of practice during our honeymoon in the quaint little Slovenian town definitely paid off.

“ Shhh .” His thumb teases my swelling clit through my panties, and I shudder in his arms. He rolls his tongue over my pulse, alternating between sucking and lightly biting my heated flesh. He’s going to leave a mark. He’s obsessed with doing that now, and I love seeing his claims on my body.

He moves my panties to the side. The first touch of his fingers through my folds has my eyes rolling to the back of my head. He walks us forward, his thumb circling my clit while he slides two fingers inside me.

My hands slam against the wall blindly, my mouth parting on a breathless moan.

“ Fuckkk, ” he groans, stepping back from me. He drags the panties down my legs and pats my feet gently until I’m stepping out of my underwear.

His clothes rustle behind me, and when his warmth surrounds me again, the tip of his cock presses against my wet folds, nudging at my entrance. My fingers dig painfully into the wall, my toes curling in my heels as he sinks into me, inch by glorious inch.

We arrived at dinner thirty minutes late.

My face is still flushed, my heart still hammering a wild staccato rhythm as I descend the stairs to the living room where everyone is waiting.

Maximo, Elira, Michael, Gianna, Romero, the twins, and their two babysitters—all of them looking up as we make our entrance.

Do they know? My cheeks burn hotter as I catch what looks suspiciously like knowing smiles.

“Sorry for the slight delay. We woke up a little late. Jet lag, you know,” Rafael says flippantly. “Shall we move to the dining room?” He waves a hand.

“You’re glowing,” Elira says, pulling me into a tight hug.

“So are you,” I tell her, squeezing her hand as she pulls back, and I’m not just being polite. There’s this luminous quality to her face, her red hair seems deeper, richer, and her lips look fuller somehow. I squint at that last part—is that some new lipstick trick?

Gianna steps forward, distracting me from my analysis. “I’m glad to see you looking so full of life.” She hugs me too, and I rub her back softly. Then my gaze immediately homes in on the girls, and I slip out of her embrace to rush over to my nieces.

They’re both awake, blinking up at me with those pretty blue eyes.

“They’ve gotten so big.” They’re about three months old now, and my heart actually pangs at how quickly they’re growing up.

I reach for Nora first, hugging her to my chest and inhaling the sweet baby smell that still clings to her and her sister.

Rafael steps beside me and scoops up Emma, gently tossing the baby up in the air to her absolute delight. She giggles, and that soft sound goes straight to my heart and makes it squeeze.

My gaze meets Rafael’s over the babies’ heads, and something electric passes between us. I think I’m ready for one of our own now. And from the heat in his eyes, he definitely understands what I’m thinking.

We switch babies, and I find myself studying Emma’s perfect little features, imagining what our daughter might look like. Would she have my hair or Rafael’s darker color? I think I would love to see Rafael’s silvery eyes in the face of a girl with my brown hair. That would be perfect.

We carefully return the girls to their carriers, leaving them with their sitters as we head to the dining room.

It feels weird, sitting so far away from Rafael on opposite sides of the huge table.

I miss him even though he’s literally right there.

He must feel the same because barely two minutes after we sit down, he gets up and strolls to my side. “Stand up.”

I blink at him but do as he says without question. He lifts my heavy chair like it weighs nothing and carries it to the other side, placing it right next to his. I giggle under my breath, my steps light as I move to take my new seat next to my husband.

The waiters we hired for the dinner come in with trays of steaming food, and I rub my hands together in anticipation. The spread looks incredible—all our favorites plus some new dishes I’m eager to try.

“Hmm, these all look so good,” Gianna says next to me, licking her lips appreciatively.

I chuckle and glance at Elira across from me, ready to make some comment about the food, but the words die in my throat. She looks… strange. Like she might be holding her breath, her face slightly green around the edges.

“I think I need to use the restroom.” She gets to her feet in a sudden rush. Maximo starts to follow, but she waves her husband back down and practically flees the room. I frown after her, worried.

What the hell was that about?

“We should try to catch up this week,” Gia says, pulling my attention back to the table. “You can tell Elira and me all about the honeymoon.”

“ All of it?” I tease, picking up my fork and trying to push away my worry about Elira.

“Maybe not all of it.” She shudders dramatically, making me chuckle despite my concern.

As Gia and I fall into easy conversation, some of the guys' discussion drifts over to my ears.

Romero’s voice, frustrated and tired: “She’s proving incredibly hard to find. I think she’s no longer in New York. I’ve spent considerable time and resources trying to track her down, but no luck. She might not even be in the country anymore.”

The smile I had while talking with Gia completely fades, because I know who he’s talking about.

Katie . We still haven’t found her since the shooting incident weeks ago.

The mystery of her disappearance has been a lingering cloud, casting shadows over my marital bliss.

I keep thinking about her, hoping she’s safe, wherever she is.

Rafael notices me listening and smoothly changes the topic. “It seems you’re the only bachelor left in the group, Romero. Should I arrange a match for you?”

“Not in your lifetime. I’m not like you suckers. There’s enough of me to go around.” He winks playfully, but I don’t miss the longing that flashes in his green eyes. There for one moment and gone the next.

Elira walks back in then, and I frown at her. “I was just about to come looking for you. The first course is almost done.”

She lets out a shaky breath as she sinks into the chair Maximo pulls out for her. “Actually, the waiter can clear my plate. Seafood hasn’t agreed with us for a while. ”

Us? My frown deepens. Then Elira’s hand slips to her belly, and she grins around the room. “This little pookie doesn’t seem to like seafood at all.”

My jaw drops as realization hits me. “Oh my God, Elira!” I jump up from my chair and jog around the table to her side. She gets to her feet, and we hug tightly while my toes bounce a little in excitement. Another baby.

“Congratulations!” I tell her as I step back, and Gianna moves in to hug the expectant mother as well.

“How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?” I glance at her belly, finally realizing why she chose that pretty, billowing dress tonight.

There’s definitely a little bump there. How could I have missed it?

I literally hugged her earlier and didn’t even feel it.

“Twenty-two weeks,” she says, practically vibrating with excitement. “We found out right after Thanksgiving, but there was never a right moment to announce it because so much was happening. The birth of the girls, your wedding, then the shooting incident…”

Her voice trails off at the mention of that night, but I push it away, focusing on this moment of pure joy.

“I’m so incredibly happy for you.” I hug her again, then turn to Maximo, who’s watching his wife with such love and pride it makes my chest tight.

“Congratulations!” I tell him, hugging him as well.

The guys do their typical masculine head nods and back slaps.

The mood shifts after that, becoming lighter, more celebratory. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. I honestly can’t remember the last time I felt this genuinely, completely happy.

If only I knew for sure Katie was alive and well somewhere, I’d be over the moon.

My smile fades at that thought, and my gaze automatically slips to Rafael, who grabs my hand underneath the dining table and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

After dinner, we migrate to the balcony with drinks— whiskey for the men, mocktails for the women. Gianna can’t drink alcohol because she’s nursing the twins, Elira is pregnant, and I’m, well, I’m drinking mocktails in solidarity with them.

The crisp February air blows my hair around my face as I lean back in the lounge chair, taking in the glittering tapestry of Manhattan spread below us. The noise of city drifts up thirty floors—traffic, sirens, the pulse of millions of lives being lived.

Home . This is home.

Not just the city, or the penthouse, but this. These people with me. My husband, my brothers, their wives, who’ve become dear friends. Family .

I sip my virgin pina colada with a contented sigh. Thank God I had the foresight to add the mocktails to our order, even if they were primarily for Gianna’s benefit. They’ve definitely come in handy tonight.

We talk well into the night until my eyelids start getting heavy and Romero begins getting restless. His phone has been blowing up since we moved out to the balcony. Finally, he gets up and answers the call, moving down the length of the large balcony, speaking in hushed tones so we can’t overhear.

When he gets back, he picks up his jacket and shrugs it on. “Well, it’s time to call it a night.”

“Who could possibly be calling you this late? Surely not a client?” Gianna eyes Romero, whose lips tighten noticeably.

“What are you doing tomorrow, Rome? I have a friend I would love to introduce you to and?—”

“Elira, he’s clearly going to meet a girl,” Michael interrupts with a deep chuckle as he takes another sip of his water. After his first tumbler of whiskey, he’d switched to water. He has to stay alert to protect his family, he’d said.

“It’s okay, man.” Maximo gets to his feet. “We’re leaving now too, so you can go see your lady friend.”

Romero’s jaw tightens. “It’s not a girl. Not like that. ”

“Then it’s like what?” Michael presses, getting to his feet as well. I guess they’re also going home now.

I chuckle as I get off the lounge chair. “You guys should leave him alone. Don’t let them tease you to reveal a name, Rome.”

Romero’s gaze snags mine, and his expression softens just the slightest bit. “It’s fine. It’s not like it’s some big secret anyway.” He inhales sharply. “I think I might have gotten a lead on your friend Katie’s whereabouts.”

My heart lurches into my throat, and hope—sweet, desperate hope—floods through me.

Without another word, Romero turns around and leaves.