by Cora Reilly
***
The Scuderis arrived forty minutes later. My aunt Ludovica stood in the front with her husband Rocco who had a hand on nine-year-old Fabiano’s shoulder. I greeted his parents before I turned to him. “You’ve gotten so tall.”
He beamed up at me, straightening his shoulders even more. His father gave him a look that made the smile slip right off his face. Why did Made Men have to be so strict to their sons? My father had always coddled me, but my brother had never heard a word of praise from him. I ushered them inside as it had started snowing again. I couldn’t wait for winter to be over. The darkness and cold made it even harder to be upbeat about my marriage.
“Girls, greet the wife of the Capo,” Ludovica said sternly.
“I’m still their cousin. They don’t have to treat me any different now that I’m married to Dante.” I hugged Gianna who looked gorgeous with her red hair that twinkled with stray snowflakes, then her younger sister Lily, who was getting more lovely by the day as well.
Dante chose that moment to join us. He shook hands with Rocco, then patted Fabiano’s shoulder with one of his kinder smiles before he kissed the hands of Ludovica, Gianna and Lily. The latter blushed furiously while Gianna looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. Dante walked ahead with Fabiano and Rocco. I hung back with the women of the family as we made our way to the dining room table.
During dinner, one topic wasn’t mentioned: Gianna’s wedding to Matteo. It should have been the focus of attention under normal circumstances, seeing that it was less than six months away, but I had a feeling the Scuderis were desperate to avoid a scene. After I’d received my fair share of praise for the first two courses, I rose and turned to Gianna, who was staring down at the table with a frown. “Will you help me with dessert, Gianna?”
Her head shot up, suspicion written plainly across her face, but she knew that manners dictated she agreed. She rose from her chair, sent a scathing look toward her mother, and then followed me through the door to our left. “Mother asked you to talk sense into me, didn’t she?” she muttered as we headed toward the kitchen.
“No, it was your father.”
“Wow. Shouldn’t you have lied to me? That’s what most people do.”
I shrugged. “I think it’s easier if you know the truth.”
We stepped into the kitchen. Zita was cutting the Tiramisu into squares and setting them on plates while Gaby decorated them with fruit. “We’ll take over from here,” I told them. They seemed to understand. With a small bow toward Gianna, they slipped away toward their staff room. I grabbed the spatula and heaved another piece of Tiramisu on a plate, then motioned at Gianna to spread raspberries, strawberries, slices of mango and star fruit around it. “So talk,” Gianna said.
“I know you don’t want to marry Matteo.”
Gianna snorted. “I’d rather chop my fingers off and eat them.”
I gave her a look. “All women in our world face the same problem as you do. Very few are lucky enough to choose their husband. An arranged marriage doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing.”
“Why? Because love can grow over time?” Gianna said in what I assumed was an imitation of her mother’s voice.
“Yes, that’s an option.”
Gianna glared. “Come on. I’m not blind. Don’t tell me there’s love between you and Dante. You act like fucking strangers.” She snapped her mouth shut. “That was rude.”
It was, but I couldn’t blame her for speaking her mind, and the truth. “We haven’t been married for very long.”
“Shouldn’t two months be enough to know if you can stand someone or not? I knew after my first encounter with Matteo that I didn’t like that arrogant asshole.”
I put down the spatula and leaned against the counter. “What about Aria and Luca? She seems happy with her arranged marriage.”
“Aria is a pushover. If it had been me who had to marry Luca, either he or I would be dead by now. And Matteo is just as bad.”
“Aria made the best out of a situation she couldn’t escape. That’s all we can do.”
“No, it’s not. She could have escaped, if she’d been braver.”
I paused. Was she saying what I think she was saying? “Nobody escapes the mob.”
Gianny shrugged. “Maybe nobody really tried.”
“Oh, there have been enough people who tried, but eventually your past always catches up with you.”
“I know,” she said softly, then she pointed at the plates. “Shouldn’t we serve dessert now?”
“Yes, you’re right.” We loaded our arms with plates and returned to the dining room. Gianna’s parents cast hopeful glances my way. Dante eyed Gianna, then met my gaze. He seemed to know what the Scuderis didn’t: nobody could get through to Gianna. Her words about Dante and me kept bothering me the rest of the evening. It made me realize just how far my marriage with Dante was from the relationship I longed for.
That evening I decided to help Gaby and Zita wash the dishes, desperate to keep busy. We were almost done when Dante walked in, eyes taking in the scene before him emotionlessly. I was up to my elbows in dishwater. “You can go home,” he told Zita and Gaby who didn’t need to be told twice. They quickly took their leave. I withdrew my arms from the washwater and took the dishtowel Dante held out to me. “Thank you.”
“You are a great cook.”
I chanced a glance at him, wondering if he’d come here to tell me that. “I’m glad you enjoyed dinner.”
He nodded. I blew a strand of hair out of my face, then stretched my tired muscles. Dante’s eyes scanned my body. I became acutely aware of how close we were and how long it had been since we’d had sex. Had he changed his mind?
“I take it your conversation with Gianna didn’t go well.”
I sighed. “Of course it didn’t. How can I possibly convince Gianna that an arranged marriage won’t make her miserable? I’m the least person she would listen to.”
Dante smiled tersely. “You are right.” He took a step. “I’ll get back to work then.”
I didn’t try to stop him. Maybe a few weeks ago I would have made an attempt at seduction but today I lacked the energy. I slumped against the counter as I watched Dante stride out of the kitchen.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I peered at the clock again. It was past midnight but I couldn’t sleep. I longed for Dante’s closeness, for his touch. It had been more than a week since the dinner with the Scuderis, and two weeks since Frank had run off and Dante had fucked me. God, and I missed him.
I slipped out of bed and left the room, not bothering to put on a bathrobe. It was dark in the corridor. I felt my way toward the staircase, then slowly descended it. At the end of the hall, light spilled out from under Dante’s office door. I knocked, then entered without waiting for a reply. Tonight I would take what I wanted. The silent treatment was over.
Dante sat in his leather chair behind the desk. His hair was disheveled as if he’d run his hand through it repeatedly. He’d thrown his jacket and vest over the sofa, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his white shirt and rolled up the sleeves, revealing his strong arms. He hadn’t bothered to remove his gun holster. He was staring at something on his laptop but glanced up when I stepped in.
He looked tired. “Is something wrong?” His voice was gravelly from disuse, almost growly, and made me even more determined to distract him from his work and lure him upstairs. His blue eyes took in my skimpy silk nightgown as I walked toward him. “I was just wondering when you’d come to bed,” I said casually as I walked around his desk and stopped beside him.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes flitting between my naked legs and my face. A couple of months ago I wouldn’t have recognized the look in his eyes, but now I knew it was desire. Maybe he shut himself off emotionally, but my body definitely got his attention. I must have caught him at a good time: too tired to keep up his disinterested act.
“Las Vegas contacted me. They want a meeting.”
I nodded, b
ut I had something very different in mind than a conversation about mob business. I reached out for his laptop and shut it.
Dante raised his eyebrows. “Valentina, I really need to…”He trailed off when I leaned over him and slowly knelt down, running my hands over his thighs. I began massaging them as I looked up at Dante with big eyes. “Can’t the work wait?”
Dante’s eyes darkened with lust. A bulge was slowly forming in his black pants as he regarded me, and I had to stifle a smile. “What do you have in mind?” he asked matter-of-factly, trying to appear unaffected. The hard-on straining against his pants betrayed him of course.
I cupped his erection through the fabric. “I don’t know.”
Dante smiled darkly. “I doubt that.” He reached for his zipper and dragged it down, then he pulled out his hard cock. He stroked it a few times, running his thumb over the tip already leaking pre-cum before he traced my mouth with his thumb. I licked my lips, tasting him on me, and Dante let out a low breath. “Stop teasing me, Valentina.”
I leaned forward and licked his shaft slowly from the base to the tip before I dipped my tongue into the tiny opening. Dante gripped the back of my head and gently held me in place as I trailed my tongue around his tip over and over again, barely touching him.
His fingers in my hair twitched and he nudged me slightly forward. “Suck my cock, Val.” It was the first time he’d called me by my nickname. I cupped his tip with my lips and began sucking, making sure to run my tongue around the rim now and then. Dante watched me through hooded eyes as he massaged my scalp.
I took him deeper and then started bobbing my head up and down how he liked it. Dante’s eyes never left me. He started bucking his hips and tightened his grip on my head as I sucked him harder. “I’m coming,” he said in warning. I felt him tense as his climax overwhelmed him. His cock jerked and he erupted in my mouth. I tried to swallow while keeping up my sucking. Dante groaned, still rocking his hips and his hooded eyes fixed on me. These were the moment he allowed me the occasional glimpse behind his guarded mask.
I could feel him softening in my mouth and I released him from my lips. A defiant part in me wanted to ask him if that meant he’d forgiven me for the mess with Frank, but the reasonable side of me won.
Dante dropped his hand from my head and went limp, squeezing his eyes shut. I quickly wiped my mouth as long as he wasn’t watching and checked my décolleté for stains. My own arousal was a throbbing between my legs. Dante shifted, drawing my attention back to him. He stared at me with an unreadable expression and I was starting to feel self-conscious. I stood but Dante did the same, towering over me in his posh white dress shirt, gun holster and half-open dress pants. I searched his eyes but as usual I couldn’t read him.
He cupped my neck and crashed his mouth against mine. I gasped in surprise and his tongue slid in. He used his body to back me up until my legs bumped into the edge of his desk. He gripped my hips and hoisted me on top of the cool surface, stepped between my legs, still possessing me with his mouth and tongue, making my legs go numb and my heart slam against my ribcage. God, Dante could kiss. I wished he’d do it more often.
He grasped my shoulders, stopped kissing me and eased me down until I lay flat on his desk. I stared up at him, forcing myself to lay still and let him admire me, when all I wanted to do was rip the buttons off his shirt and have him inside me. Dante seemed to know what I wanted. The dark smile was back and the cool sophistication had been replaced by something feral and hot. I bit my lip and spread my legs even wider, making my nightgown ride up.
I knew Dante could see what was below it: nothing. I wasn’t wearing panties.
He released a harsh breath, but he still wasn’t touching me and it was driving me to the brink of despair. I tried to grab his shirt but he stepped out of my reach. “No,” he said with authority. The voice he only ever used when he was giving orders to his soldiers. It was the sexiest sound in the world, but I was burning up with need. “Touch me.”
“I’m still angry with you. Sex won’t change that. You disobeyed my direct order.”
He couldn’t be serious. If this was another form of punishment, I’d lose it.
“Let’s see if you learned your lesson. You will obey me now, won’t you?”
I almost moaned at the timbre of his voice and look in his eyes. “Yes,” I said quickly.
He took another step back, his eyes meeting mine. “Spread your legs wider.”
I didn’t hesitate. The air in his office felt cool against my heated flesh but it did nothing to alleviate the burning need. Dante unfastened his gun holster without hurry, never taking his eyes off me. “Touch yourself.”
My eyes widened, but again I complied. When he used that voice, I had a hard time resisting. I slid my hand down my body and between my legs. Part of me was embarrassed. That definitely wasn’t something a respectable wife did according to my mother. But the bigger part enjoyed the way Dante’s eyes darkened as he watched my fingers slip between my folds and the way his lips parted. He let the gun holster drop to the floor with a clunk. He was growing hard again as he watched my fingers draw small circles over my clit.
“Put a finger into your pussy.”
I shook with arousal as I followed his order. I dipped my index finger into my hot core. A muscle in Dante’s cheek flexed and his cock was straining against its prison again. I could see how much he wanted to touch me, to fuck me, but Dante was nothing if not in control of himself and others. He stepped between my legs, gripped my wrists, and I slid my finger out of my tight channel, hoping he’d do it for me now.
“No,” he growled. “Keep fucking yourself with your finger.”
How could he sound so dangerous and sexy at the same time? How could that cold man say such naughty things with utmost authority? I pushed my finger back into myself, even though my clit practically screamed for attention. Dante stared down at me, his jaw tense. He pushed the top of my nightgown down, revealing my breasts. My nipples hardened from the cold and Dante’s piercing gaze. He took my nipples between his forefingers and thumb, and started rolling them back and forth. I arched my back, but didn’t stop fingering myself.
I reached for Dante’s shirt, but he pinched my nipples in warning. “No,” he rasped. I bucked my hips at the sensations rocking through my body, the sensual pain I started to enjoy more than I ever thought I could. Dante’s fingers twisted and rolled my nipples relentlessly. My core quivered with the need to come. “Dante, please.”
He fixed me with a stare, then he released one of my breasts and gripped my arm, stopping me from touching myself further. He pulled my hand away and put it beside me on the desk. He pushed my nightgown up so my pussy was bare to his eyes. “Don’t come,” he warned.
“What?” I gasped, but the sound turned into a moan when he slid his two middle fingers into me. My muscles clenched around him, gripping his fingers in an iron grip. He started fucking me slowly, his warning gaze on me. “Don’t, Valentina.”
I dug my nails into my palms, trying to fight off the climax. Dante pushed his fingers deep into me and kept them in place while his thumb brushed my clit. I gritted my teeth, my body starting to spasm.
“Do not come,” Dante said huskily.
“Dante…” I shook my head back and forth, sure I was going to burst any moment. Dante curled his fingers in me and pressed down hard on my clit. “Now,” he ordered harshly, and my release crashed down on me with blinding force. My butt arched off the desk as I cried out my release. My hands slid over the smooth surface of the desk, searching for something to hold onto.
“That’s right,” Dante said, his eyes on me. I stilled, feeling drained and sated. Dante slowly pulled his fingers out of me, sending another spike of pleasure through me. He unbuckled his belt, the only thing keeping his open pants in place, and let them drop to the floor. His cock was hard and red and glistening. “Turn around.” I slid off the desk, and stood on unsteady legs for a moment before facing the other way and bending forward. I
braced myself on my elbows and jutted my butt out. Risking a peek over my shoulder, I found Dante taking in the sight of me. He kneaded my butt cheeks before gripping his cock and guiding it to my entrance. In one swift movement, he buried himself deep in me. I exhaled and curled my fingers around the edge of the desk, trying to steady myself as Dante started pounding into me. I gasped as he drove himself deeper and deeper into me, making my nipples rub against the cold, smooth desk.
“Am I forgiven?” I gasped out.
Dante growled. He leaned over me, his fingers finding my nub. “I shouldn’t forgive you,” he said between grunts, accentuating every word with a hard thrust. “But for some reason, I can’t stay mad at you.”
A grin tugged at my lips but dropped off my face when Dante hit my g-spot and made me shatter under the force of my climax. Dante tensed behind me as his own release overcame him. My legs were seconds away from collapsing and my chest was probably sore from rubbing over the desk. Dante wrapped his arm around my chest, pulling our bodies flush together and still pumping into me as he left a trail of kisses up my shoulder. He shuddered again and licked my ear. We stayed like that for a couple of moments before Dante stepped back. I pushed myself to my feet. “Will you come upstairs with me?” I asked as I gathered my clothes.
Dante hesitated but then he nodded. I walked ahead to hide my elated expression from him. This felt like a major victory.
After we’d showered, we slipped into bed. I snuggled up to Dante’s back and slung my arm over his stomach. When I’d almost fallen asleep, his hand covered mine.
***
We fell into the same routine we’d established before the Frank-fiasco. Dante fucked me at night, engaged me in talk about the casino during meals and otherwise ignored me mostly. Every morning I woke alone, no matter how long Dante had kept me up the night before.
This was also the case the morning I was woken from cramps. When I sat up, a violent wave of morning sickness hit me. I stormed into the bathroom and threw up what little I had in my stomach, gasping for breath and feeling dizzy. Gradually a suspicion wormed its way into my mind. My period was overdue at least a week. But then, my menstrual cycles had always been rather volatile so I hadn’t paid it much heed.
