All Chapters of Fallen From Grace [Married to the Mafia Novel]: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

DanteHearing those words from Jean lights a fire in me, burning so hot that I have to grab the sheets beneath me to stop myself from fucking into her. I want to leave the task up to her, allowing her to take full control.Jean raises her thighs and drops down in one swift motion eliciting groans from both of us. Without warning, Jean leans back far enough to rest her hands on the tops of my thighs. She lets out a loud gasp and I just know this position slotted me deeper inside her, I could feel her clamping down on me like crazy.“S-so deep! You feel so d-deep like this,” Jean says as she rolls her hips. My hands fly to grab her thighs, gripping the porcelain skin tightly, wanting to leave marks all over them.“You look beautiful, love. You take my cock so well.” I murmur in encouragement. Moving my hand up from Jean’s thigh, I graze her skin, just a hair away from her soaked pussy. The wet sounds coming from it are music to my ears, her juices splattering across my abdomen. “Keep go

JeanThe soft pelts of raindrops against our umbrellas drown the pastor’s soft words. The sudden presence of rain makes me believe that the universe mourns with our family.Twelve people. Today, we bury twelve people who sacrificed their lives for the sake of many. Today, we honor them.“Thank you for this,” I whisper, looping my arm with Dante’s resting my head on his arm. The closeness provides me comfort. Dante hums in response, but I know he too is emotional about this service.The service is beautiful. Despite the sudden rain, the fresh scent of flowers didn’t get washed away. Elegant arrangements of lilies and white daisies adorn the burial ground. Even with less than a dozen of us present, each family member’s eulogies were beautifully written.I admit I had something more barbaric in mind when I first thought of mafia family funerals, but I was pleasantly surprised to know that this is their norm. It’s not uncommon to lose members with such a dangerous job. As Daveed once told

Jean“Oh, if you could see yourself now, little Jean. You look delicious.”Serafino’s voice plays in the back of my mind like white noise being filtered. How long has it been? A few hours? Minutes? Maybe it has been days. I have no idea, having completely lost track of time.What I remember is Serafino returning after our first encounter with a bandaged nose. It made me snort. . But then, he was inserting a needle into my arm and suddenly nothing was funny anymore. It had been like that for quite a while. Serafino had been continuously pumping me full of whatever drugs to keep me sedated.Manageable.Susceptible.“Take it like a big girl, Jean,” he had said as he injected me with the drugs. I remember screaming and struggling against the ropes at the beginning. But he had done it over and over until I stopped struggling as he pushes the needle into my arm.I remember that it hurt for a while then there was just the dull throb in my arm, swollen from the consistent abuse of the needle.

DanteI’ve tortured many a person in all my years. Peeled off fingernails, sliced through the skin, pulled out teeth, and many more horrors fill my nightmares. But none of those feel nearly as satisfying as seeing the bane of my wife’s existence tied up and gagged; blindfolded and scared, and at my mercy.Without a sound and without another thought I charge for Serafino plunging the knife in my hand deep into his side.I revel in his muted screams against the cloth that gags him. Then, leaning closer I whisper. “That’s for when you stabbed Jean.”Stepping away, I leave the knife planted in his gut. There’s no reason for him to lose too much blood. At least not right away. So, for now, it stays there, as a reminder that everything else that’s about to happen to him is because he hurt my angel.I rip the gag off Serafino’s mouth leaving him sputtering in pain. “Is this what this is?” he scoffs, chuckling as saliva smears down his chin from having his tongue gagged for so long. “An eye f

JeanThough I’m still very much shaken and disoriented from the ordeal with Serafino Regis, I wanted to see for myself what has been happening.Dante told me that I had been gone for three days. It felt like years to me, but more than anything, it scares me that I don’t know everything that went on in that room, high on God-knows-what, and at the mercy of the man who claimed he wanted to skin me alive.“Did the plan go without a hitch?” I ask through a nearly full mouth of fried chicken. In my defense, Dante did promise to grant me any wish, and I just so happen to crave fried chicken after I narrowly escaped death.Dante joins me on the couch placing the glass of water I requested on the center table. I mutter a small thank you without taking my eyes off the television where a replay of last night’s news plays at my request.“No, not perfectly. But eventually, Serafino and nearly three hundred of his men are to be put to trial.” Dante sits close to me, yet I don’t feel suffocated, in