Chapter 7: The Moonlit Terrace
The chaos of the ballroom felt like a distant dream, the murmur of the crowd replaced by the chirp of crickets and the whisper of leaves. Nico led her through a set of French doors onto a vast, marble terrace that overlooked the vineyards. Moonlight drenched the world in silver, making the rows of vines look like furrows in a dark sea. The air was cool, scented with night-blooming jasmine and the earthy promise of grapes.
A small iron table sat in a pool of candlelight, set with a bottle of champagne and a bowl of perfect, glistening strawberries. Two chairs, and a wide, plush chaise lounge.
“I wanted to give you something real,” Nico said, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. The ruthless edge was still there, but beneath it ran a current of something vulnerable, raw. He turned her to face him, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. His thumbs stroked the high bones, his green eyes searching hers in the flickering light. “No audience. No games. Just… this.”
He kissed her then, not with the frantic possessiveness of the closet, but slowly, deeply. It was a kiss that tasted of champagne and promise, a kiss that unraveled the last tight knots of fear in her stomach. She melted into it, her hands coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart through his dress shirt.
A warm presence settled behind her. Luca. His hands, large and surprisingly gentle, came to rest on her hips, his chest a solid wall against her back. He nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear, his breath a soft caress. Nico broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes shifting to look at Luca over her shoulder. A silent understanding passed between them, an electricity that included her, that made her feel essential, not incidental.
“Just us,” Nico repeated, his words a rough whisper.
They led her to the chaise. Their movements were synchronized, deliberate. Luca stood behind her, his fingers finding the hidden zipper of the emerald dress. He drew it down slowly, the sound loud in the quiet night. The silk sighed as it pooled at her feet, leaving her in only the stockings, garter belt, and the torn shreds of her thong. The night air pebbled her skin.
Nico knelt before her, his hands sliding up her calves, over her knees, tracing the lace tops of her stockings. His gaze was devout, hungry. He hooked his fingers into the garter straps, snapping them gently before easing the stockings down, following the path with his mouth, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses on the inside of her thigh. Luca, behind her, undid her simple necklace, let it fall. His hands skimmed her shoulders, down her arms.
They were undressing her like they were unwrapping something sacred.
When she was naked, skin glowing in the candlelight, they guided her back onto the soft cushions of the chaise. Nico positioned himself between her thighs, spreading her open to the moonlight and his gaze. Luca settled on the chaise beside her head, propped on an elbow, looking down at her. He ran the back of his knuckles along her jawline.
“Beautiful,” Luca murmured, the word so tender it made her throat ache.
Niko leaned forward, but not to take her. Instead, he looked up her body, meeting Luca’s eyes. “I want to taste her while she tastes you.”
Luca’s blue eyes darkened. He nodded, shifting. He undid his trousers, freeing his cock. It was thick, veined, and the silver barbell through the head glinted in the candlelight. He stroked himself once, twice, his gaze locked on Jamie’s mouth.
“Suck him,” Nico said, his voice a low command that vibrated through her core. “Take him deep. Let me feel you moan around him.”
As Luca guided his cock to her lips, Nico lowered his mouth to her cunt.
The dual sensation was an immediate, breathtaking overload. Luca’s tip, salty and smooth, pressed against her lips. She opened, taking him in, her tongue flattening against the underside, exploring the cool metal of the piercing. At the same moment, Nico’s tongue, hot and rough, swiped a long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit. He zeroed in on that swollen bud, sucking it gently into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it with expert precision.
Jamie moaned, the sound vibrating around Luca’s length. He groaned in response, his hand cupping the back of her head, not forcing, just holding. “That’s it, dolcezza,” he breathed, his hips giving a slight, involuntary thrust. “Good girl. So good.”
Nico’s mouth became relentless. He ate her with a focused, starving intensity. He licked deep into her hole, tasting her, then returned to her clit, sucking and nibbling, varying the pressure until her hips began to lift off the chaise, seeking more. She bobbed her head on Luca’s cock, taking him deeper into her throat, her own wetness coating her chin. The sounds were filthy, obscene—wet, sucking noises from between her legs, choked gags and soft slurps from her mouth, the ragged breathing of the two men.
“Fuck, her mouth,” Luca gritted out, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Nico, what you’re doing to her… she’s sucking me like she’s fucking drowning.”
Nico answered with a deep, growling vibration against her clit. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them, finding a spot that made her see stars. He scissored them, stretching her, working them in tandem with the devastating rhythm of his tongue.
The coil in her abdomen wound tighter, hotter, a spring about to snap. She was a live wire between them, every nerve ending screaming. She lost rhythm on Luca’s cock, her movements becoming frantic, desperate. Nico’s fingers pumped, his tongue lashed.
“Come on, Jamie,” Nico growled against her soaked folds, his words muffled. “Come all over my face. Let him feel you scream.”
It shattered her. The orgasm erupted, a white-hot detonation that seized her entire body. Her back arched violently off the chaise. A ragged, screaming sob tore from her throat, distorted around the fullness of Luca’s cock. Her cunt clamped down on Nico’s fingers, pulsating, gushing against his mouth. He didn’t let up, drinking her down, licking her through the convulsions that seemed to go on and on.
As the waves began to subside into shuddering aftershocks, Nico slowly pulled his fingers free. He rose up on his knees, his face glistening with her release. His own cock was in his hand, stiff and leaking. He was staring at Luca, who was watching him with a fierce, possessive pride.
Luca gently pulled himself from Jamie’s lips. He leaned down and kissed her, deep and slow, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Then he shifted, moving to lie beside her, facing Nico. He gathered her against his chest, her back to his front, so she was cradled between them, facing her husband.
Nico positioned himself at her entrance, the broad head nudging her sensitive, swollen flesh. He pushed in slowly, a profound, stretching fullness that made her gasp. He was so much thicker than his fingers. He sank in to the hilt, a low, guttural groan escaping him as her heat enveloped him.
“Christ, you’re tight,” he breathed, his eyes clenched shut for a moment. “Even after coming. Like a fucking vise.”
He began to move, a slow, deep, rolling rhythm that wasn’t about frantic possession, but about claiming in a different, more profound way. Each thrust was deliberate, hitting depths that made her whimper. Luca held her, one arm wrapped securely under her breasts, his other hand stroking her hair, her cheek. He kissed her shoulder, her neck.
Nico’s eyes opened, locking onto hers. In the moonlight, the green was almost otherworldly. He leaned forward, bracing himself on one arm beside her head, his thrusts never faltering. Luca tilted her face up and Nico captured her mouth, kissing her with the same deep rhythm his hips were setting.
It was overwhelming. Being filled so completely, kissed so thoroughly, held so securely. It was a dizzying triad of sensation and emotion. Nico’s tongue tangled with hers, his taste a mix of her and him and champagne. Luca’s scent, soap and gunmetal and man, surrounded her. Nico’s cock dragged against that perfect, sensitive spot inside her with every measured stroke, building a new, slower burn.
“You feel that?” Nico whispered against her lips, his breath hitching. “That’s where you take us. That’s where you keep us. Deep inside.”
“She does,” Luca murmured into her hair, his voice thick. “She holds us both.”
The new climb was different—less a frantic race, more an inevitable ascent. It built in her core, a radiant warmth spreading through her limbs. Nico’s control began to fray. His thrusts lost their measured pace, growing harder, faster. The chaise creaked beneath them. His kisses became messy, desperate.
“Jamie… I’m gonna…” he warned, his voice strangled.
“Look at him,” Luca whispered to her, his hand guiding her face back to Nico’s. “Watch him come apart for you.”
She opened her eyes, holding Nico’s wild, beautiful gaze as he drove into her one last, final time, hilting himself with a force that lifted her hips off the cushion. He threw his head back, a raw, torn cry ripping from his throat as he emptied himself into her, his body shuddering violently with each pulse of his release.
He collapsed forward, catching his weight on his forearms, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. They lay there, a tangled, sweating, spent heap of limbs in the candlelight. Nico’s softening cock slipped from her, followed by a slow trickle of their combined fluids onto the chaise.
For a long time, there was only the sound of their breathing and the distant crickets. Nico finally lifted his head. He looked at her, then at Luca over her shoulder. He reached out, his hand curling around the back of Luca’s neck, pulling him in until their foreheads touched, Jamie cradled between them.
“Yours,” Nico said, the word a vow.
“Ours,” Luca corrected softly, his eyes on Jamie.
Nico shifted his gaze to her, waiting.
She felt the word in her bones, in the ache between her legs, in the safety of their combined embrace. It wasn’t a surrender. It was a choice, solid and real as the terrace stone beneath them.
“Ours,” she whispered.
A shadow moved at the far end of the terrace, near the French doors. A silhouette, watching. Then it was gone, melting back into the dark interior of the house. None of them saw it. They were lost in their own world, under a sky too vast for mortal eyes, the first fragile thread of a future woven in moonlight and sweat.
They were lost in their own world, under a sky too vast for mortal eyes, the first fragile thread of a future woven in moonlight and sweat. Eventually, the chill of the night air drove them inside, up a private staircase to a lavish guest suite, where they fell into the enormous bed in a tangle of exhausted limbs. Nico and Luca took turns, with a slow, wrecking tenderness, making love to her again in the dark, whispering promises against her skin until she fell into a deep, sated sleep.
Sunlight, sharp and golden, cut across Jamie’s face. She woke slowly, her body humming with a pleasant, deep ache. She was naked, the silken sheets cool against her skin. Warmth pressed against her back, another solid heat against her front. Nico’s arm was thrown heavily over her waist, his breathing even against her neck. Luca faced her, his features softened in sleep, one hand resting possessively on her hip.
A profound sense of rightness settled in her chest, quiet and warm. She carefully extracted herself, sliding from the bed without waking them. She stood for a moment, watching them sleep—the formidable future Don and his deadly shadow, vulnerable in the morning light. A fierce, protective tenderness swelled in her. She wanted to give them something. Something soft.
She padded naked into the suite’s kitchenette, moving with quiet efficiency. The smells of strong coffee, frying bacon, and toasted bread soon filled the space. She scrambled eggs with cheese, found ripe avocado, and arranged everything on a large tray. She spotted a bottle of sandalwood massage oil in the bathroom and added it to the load. This was her offering.Her devotion.
She carried the heavy tray back into the bedroom, setting it on the low table by the window. Morning light gilded the dust motes in the air. She approached the bed, the cool hardwood floor under her feet. She slid under the covers, into the humid, masculine warmth between them.
She started with Nico, her hand snaking down the hard plane of his stomach. She found him already half-hard in his sleep. She wrapped her fingers around his thickening length, pumping slowly. He stirred with a low groan. She bent her head, taking him into her mouth without preamble, swallowing him down until her nose pressed against the crisp hair at his base.
“Fuck,” Nico rasped, his voice gravelly with sleep. His hips jerked. “Jamie?”
She hummed in answer, the vibration making his thighs tense. She worked him with her mouth, swirling her tongue over the head, sucking hard. She pulled off with a wet pop and moved to Luca, whose blue eyes were already open, watching her with a dark, stunned intensity. She kissed a trail down his chest, flicking her tongue over the silver hoops in his nipples, before taking his pierced cock into her mouth. The metal bead teased her palate as she deep-throated him.
“Christ,” Luca breathed, his hand coming to rest on the back of her head, not guiding, just feeling.
She alternated between them, her mouth a slick, hot paradise. She’d suck Nico to the brink, then turn and lavish the same attention on Luca, bringing them both to a panting, tense edge. She reveled in their sounds, in the way their control shattered before her.
“Enough, baby,” Nico finally gasped, pulling her up by her hair. “If you keep that up, this ends before it starts.”
She smiled, a slow, secret thing. “Roll over.”
They obeyed, exchanging a glance of bewildered lust. She warmed the massage oil in her palms, then began on Nico’s shoulders, working the knotted tension from his muscles with strong, deliberate presses of her thumbs. He moaned into the pillow, a sound of pure relief. She worked down the intricate tattoos on his spine, her touch firm and knowing. Then she moved to Luca, kneading the scarred, powerful terrain of his back. He sighed, the rigid vigilance leaching from his body under her hands.
When they were pliant and loose, she guided them to sit up against the headboard. She fetched the tray, placing it between them. She fed Nico a bite of eggs, her fingers brushing his lips. She followed it with a slice of avocado for Luca, her thumb wiping a stray crumb from his stubbled chin. She brought coffee to their mouths, watching them swallow.
Nico stared at her, his green eyes wide, his usual composed mask utterly gone. Luca looked down at the tray, then back at her face, his expression one of raw, unguarded awe.
“No one…” Nico began, his voice strangely thick. He stopped, shook his head. “No one has ever…”
Luca reached out, his calloused fingers tracing her cheekbone with a reverence usually reserved for sacred objects. “Why?” he asked, the single word loaded with a lifetime of expecting nothing.
Jamie placed the tray aside and crawled back into the space between them. She took Nico’s hand, then Luca’s, pressing their palms to her bare chest, over her pounding heart.
“Because you’re mine,” she said simply, the truth solid and unshakable. “And I take care of what’s mine.”
The two most dangerous men in the city looked at her, and for the first time, had no words at all. They just held on, the fortress walls around their hearts crumbling silently in the morning sun.
They just held on, the fortress walls around their hearts crumbling silently in the morning sun. The scent of coffee and her skin filled the space between them, a new, domestic reality that felt more dangerous than any gun. Nico moved first, sliding from the bed. He looked down at her, his gaze tracing the faint bruise on her shoulder from his teeth, the sleep-soft lines of her face.
“You cooked,” he stated, his voice rough.
“I was hungry,” she said, a simple shrug in her answer.
He shook his head, a faint, disbelieving smile touching his lips. Then he bent, hooking one arm behind her knees, the other around her back. He lifted her from the bed as if she weighed nothing. Luca was there instantly, a solid presence at his shoulder, his hand coming to rest on Jamie’s hip as Nico carried her. They moved in wordless unison towards the expansive ensuite bathroom.
“What are you doing?” she laughed, the sound breathy.
“Returning the favor,” Nico said, his eyes locked ahead.
The bathroom was a cavern of cream marble and polished chrome. Luca reached past them, twisting the shower’s knobs. Steam began to bloom, clouding the mirrors. Nico set her on her feet on the cool floor but didn’t let go. Luca’s hands came up, framing her face. He kissed her, slow and deep, a languid exploration that tasted of coffee and shared sleep. Behind her, Nico pressed close, his hard cock already nudging the cleft of her ass. His hands slid around her waist, up to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her nipples into tight, aching points.
“You washed us with your mouth,” Nico murmured into her dampening hair. “Now let us wash you.”
They stepped into the spray, the hot water a shock that quickly melted into bliss. It sluiced over them, plastering Jamie’s blonde hair to her skull, running in rivulets down the intricate ink on Nico’s chest, over the raised scars on Luca’s back. Luca reached for a bottle of expensive, sandalwood-scented body wash. He poured a generous pool into his palm, then began to work it over her shoulders, his big, scarred hands moving with a shocking gentleness.
He soaped her arms, her back, his fingers tracing each vertebra. He knelt in the water, washing her legs, his thumbs massaging her calves. He was worshipful, thorough. Nico took the bottle, his own hands gliding over her soap-slick front. He lathered her breasts, kneading them, pinching her nipples until she gasped and arched into his touch. His soapy hand slid down her belly, through the rough thatch of curls, and found her slit.
“Open,” he said, his voice a low command lost in the drum of water.
She braced her hands against the marble wall, spreading her feet. Nico’s fingers, slick with soap and water, delved into her. He worked them in and out, curling, scissoring, stretching her. The soap created a tantalizing, slippery friction, not quite rough, not quite smooth. It was an intimate, claiming cleanse. Luca watched from his knees, his blue eyes dark, his pierced cock jutting up, water beading on the silver metal.
“Clean her properly, Nico,” Luca said, his voice husky. “Inside and out.”
Nico added a third finger, fucking her with them slowly, his other hand palming her ass. “She’s so fucking greedy for it,” he groaned, watching his fingers disappear into her. “Always so ready.” He twisted his wrist, rubbing over that deep, spongy spot until her knees threatened to buckle.
Luca moved then, rising. He turned her to face him, water cascading over his blunt features. “My turn,” he said quietly. He urged her back a step, until she was under the main showerhead, the water pounding her shoulders. He sank to his knees again, his hands spreading her thighs wide. He didn’t use his fingers. He lowered his mouth to her cunt, his tongue finding her clit in a slow, deliberate circle, lapping away the last traces of soap and her own slick arousal.
“Luca,” she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his short, wet hair.
He ate her with a focused, patient intensity that was utterly devastating. Where Nico was fire, Luca was deep, rolling earth. His tongue probed her entrance, then returned to her clit, sucking the sensitive bud softly, then harder. He nibbled. He laved. He owned her with his mouth as the water rained down on them both.
Nico watched, one hand braced high on the wall, the other pumping his own cock with slow, distracted strokes. “Look at him,” Nico breathed, his eyes glittering. “Look at the most feared man in three boroughs on his knees, fucking you with his tongue. He’d kill anyone who saw this. But for you, he begs.”
Luca moaned in agreement against her flesh, the vibration shooting straight to her core. He slid two fingers into her, matching the rhythm of his tongue. The stretch was exquisite, the dual sensation of penetration and suction pulling a ragged cry from her lungs. Her orgasm built quickly, a tight, coiling pressure that owed everything to his unwavering, devoted attention.
“That’s it, dolcezza, come on my face,” Luca growled, his words muffled. “Let me taste it.”
She shattered. Her hips jerked against his mouth as the climax ripped through her, a sharp, bright flare of pleasure that left her seeing spots behind her eyelids. She rode his tongue through the pulses, her cries echoing off the marble. He drank every drop, soothing her through the aftershocks with soft, kittenish licks.
Before the tremors had fully subsided, Nico was moving. He pulled Luca to his feet and turned Jamie around, bending her over, her hands flat on the marble bench built into the shower. The water hit her back. Nico’s hands gripped her hips, his cock nudging at her drenched, throbbing entrance.
“Tell him thank you,” Nico demanded, his voice taut.
“Thank you,” Jamie panted, turning her head to see Luca over her shoulder.
Luca moved in front of her. He cradled her face, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue. “You’re welcome,” he murmured against her lips. Then he guided his cock to her mouth. She took him in, her tongue immediately finding his piercing.
At the same moment, Nico shoved into her from behind.
The cry around Luca’s length was one of pure, overwhelmed sensation. Nico filled her brutally, completely, his pace immediately punishing. He fucked her with hard, deep strokes, each thrust jamming her forward onto Luca’s cock. She gagged, tears mixing with the shower spray. Luca gentled his hips, letting her set the rhythm, his hands stroking her wet hair.
“Fuck, she’s so tight,” Nico grunted, his balls slapping against her ass. “Even after you made her come. She’s fucking made for this.”
The angle was perfect, each drive hammering that spot inside her that felt like a live wire. Pleasure, sharp and almost painful in its intensity, began to coil again, impossibly soon. She sucked Luca with frantic need, her noises a continuous, slutty soundtrack to Nico’s relentless pounding.
“You feel that, Jamie?” Nico’s hand came down on her ass, a sharp, stinging smack that made her jump and clench around him. “You feel how deep I am? This is where you belong. Bent over, taking us both.”
Luca’s control broke. He began to fuck her mouth in earnest, his grip in her hair tightening. “Gonna come, baby,” he warned, his voice ragged. “Swallow it. Swallow all of it for me.”
Nico’s rhythm became erratic, frantic. “Look at him,” he ordered, slamming into her. “Look at him when you make him come.”
She opened her eyes, her gaze blurry but locked on Luca’s. The raw, unfiltered love and lust in his blue eyes as he watched her take him was her undoing. Her third orgasm tore through her with silent, convulsive force, her cunt milking Nico’s cock in violent pulses. The sensation triggered Luca’s release. He came with a shout, hot, salty bursts flooding her throat. She swallowed convulsively, never breaking eye contact.
Feeling her clamp down and watching Luca fall apart was too much for Nico. With a final, guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt and erupted, his release pumping into her in hot, endless jets, mixing with the water and her own slickness as it dripped down her thighs.
They collapsed together in a heap on the shower floor, a tangled, breathing mess under the still-pounding water. Nico slumped against the wall, pulling Jamie into his lap, his softening cock still nestled inside her. Luca slid down beside them, his head resting on her thigh, his eyes closed.
For a long time, there was only the sound of water and spent breathing. Nico’s hands, once so forceful, now traced idle, soothing patterns on her stomach. Luca’s thumb stroked her knee.
“The terrace last night…” Jamie said softly, the words barely audible. “That was for the world. For your father.” She turned her head, looking at Nico, then at Luca. “This… this is for us.”
Nico’s arms tightened around her. He pressed a kiss to her temple, a gesture so tender it hurt. Luca lifted her hand, pressing his lips to her palm, then to the inside of her wrist where her pulse hammered.
They stayed there until the water ran cold, washing nothing away, only sealing something in.