Page 143 of The Fates We Tame

“I’ve been a patient man. You wouldn’t let me fuck you because you were too excited for all the presents. But most of them are unwrapped now, and I can’t wait any longer.”

My wife’s laughter, when it’s genuine and at the right moment, might be the sweetest sound I ever heard.

“I have one last present for you, and I know you’re going to love it,” Sophia says before disappearing out the room.

Wrapping paper litters the floor, and unwrapped gifts are stacked on the sofa and table.

It’s been a busy month. We made a trip to Florida for Mom to finally meet Sophia, and they got on like a house on fire. And Sophia persuaded King that we should buy the abandoned lot we met her father on. Convinced him of the potential of a professional long-term industrial storage site. Then there was the utterly unsuccessful attempt to contact Cillian.

He’s cut off all communication with Iris too.

When Sophia returns, she has a large board and a toolbox. “We doing some handiwork?” I ask as I stroke my cock through my gray joggers.

“I was thinking about something we talked about the day he died.”

Sophia no longer talks about her father by name. He’s not Papà nor Vincenzo. He’s been relegated toheorhim. There was no funeral. Alessio took care of the disposal of his body. And Sophia never asked any more questions about him.

I thought an MC was capable of some questionable shit, but even those closest to Vincenzo, like his wife, moved on without hysterics.

We went for dinner at Alessio’s last night. Her brothers were all there. We atesfincioneandfalsomagroandanelletti al forno, and I survived an evening with my wife’s five brothers and mother. And no one mentioned Vincenzo.

“What was that, Sparrow?”

“The sticker chart for quitting smoking. We jokingly discussed it, but then never made it. So, here it is to help you quit.”

I’vetriedto quit. It’s been hit-and-miss. We went to Bethlehem to take some weapons to our brothers there, and too much alcohol led to smoking again.

“So,” she says. Before I can say anything, she turns the board around. “With your permission, I thought I could help.”

I climb to my knees and gesture with two fingers for her to bring it to me. As she gets closer, I can see her cheeks are blushing. In blocky letters it says, “QUIT SMOKING LADDER.”

It has ten boxes, each with a day over it. The dates seem to be by week and go from January to March.

“In the toolbox are ten…things…that can inflict pain. And I thought that, well, if you went a week without smoking, youcould pick one of the things out of the box and tell me to use it on you.”

My whole body vibrates, wanting to know what’s in the box.

“Every week, I get to pick one?”

“Only if you didn’t smoke. If you did, we wipe all the marks off and start again. The goal is for you to get to ten weeks in a row without smoking.”

She glances down at my joggers, which, quite frankly, are doing nothing to hide the raging boner I have.

“Open the toolbox and show me what you got me. Tell me what it does and how it hurts.”

My voice sounds like it dropped an octave.

“Wait,” I add. “Lose the pajamas first.”

Sophia bites down on her lower lip and shimmies out of the pajama pants, then opens the buttons on the pajama top, leaving it just open enough that I can see her pussy but not her tits.

“Stay like that, because you look really fucking hot,” I tell her.

She kneels close to me. So close, our knees almost touch. I want to reach out and nudge the pajama top off her shoulders. Or grab her hand by the wrist and put it on my cock for some relief.

The metal clasps make a rattling sound as she opens them, and I imagine getting used to the sound on a Saturday night, waiting for whatever is going to come out from within it.

“It starts small. This is a bead picker.” It looks like a fat, lumpy pencil. But as she pushes the top, four claws come out. “It’s used in jewelry making to pick beads up, but I thought…” She leans forward, pushes the four claws into my pec, and then releases the pusher, allowing the claws to pinch and scrape my skin as they close. It’s the tiniest bite of pain. But then she does it quickly, over and over again in the same spot until I suck in a breath.