by Kiera Silver
She was of average height, but he was tall enough that his tailored shirt fell past mid-thigh on her, with the last button closing a few inches below her bare pussy. It was too much bother to search out her underwear, and she walked from his bedroom and padded on bare feet down the hallway, curling her toes in the luxuriously thick carpet as she took each step forward.
She could smell coffee brewing, and that led her in the general direction of the kitchen, which she found after a couple of wrong turns in the labyrinthine hallway. She swung open the kitchen door, her eyebrow creeping toward her hairline when she saw Dante facing the refrigerator, which stood open, and already wearing a suit jacket and trousers. Did he ever take a day off? It was Saturday, and it seemed ridiculous to her to be up and dressed for a full day of mobster-ing at seven-thirty in the morning.
A naughty idea occurred to her, and she wondered if she could subvert his plan to work today, at least for a few hours. With that thought in mind, she tiptoed up behind him and put her arms around his waist. She nuzzled her face against his back, and then frowned slightly. He was wearing a different cologne today, and its scent seemed wrong to her. She started to pull back even as he turned around, shoving her less than gently away from him.
“Don’t touch me.” He glared down at her, his expression lacking any of its usual warmth.
She looked up at him uncertainly, realizing when she had convinced herself he’d asked her to stay that it couldn’t have been what he’d actually said. Maybe he’d been telling her to leave, and she’d allowed herself to hear what she wanted. He was clearly angered by her presence. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t just touch someone without permission.”
The back door opened suddenly, and Dante stepped inside, his face red and sweaty from exertion, and his soaked T-shirt and jogging pants making it obvious he had been out for a run. He took one look at the two of them and scowled, turning his gaze on one of his brothers. “What did you do to Lily, Larenz?”
A wave of relief swept through Lily as she realized she had inadvertently hugged one of her lover’s brothers instead of him. The cold reception made a lot more sense, and she found a genuine smile for Larenz. “I’m sorry about that. I thought you were Dante.”
Dante’s brow arched, and he turned to look at her with interest. “Oh, maybe I should be asking what you did to Larenz?” He asked the question in a lighthearted way, but there was definitely jealousy visible in his expression.
She couldn’t deny the thought gave her pleasure, though she would never deliberately flirt with any man to make Dante jealous, and especially not his brothers. She half-shrugged her shoulder. “I thought it was you, so I hugged him.”
Larenz’s expression still looked annoyed, but he no longer seemed so cold. “No harm done,” he said gruffly. He gave her an appraising look. “So you’re Thompson’s sister, huh? I sort of see why Dante made the decision he did then.” With that, he closed the refrigerator and turned to face his brother. “I stopped to remind you Darius Bagdonas requests a meeting.”
Dante scowled. “There’s no reason to have a meeting, and like I’ve already said, I’m not meeting with him or Rasa. She’s lucky all I took were a couple of her fingers and not her miserable excuse for a life.”
Larenz shrugged, looking unconcerned. “I agree, but meeting with them might prevent a turf war.”
Dante made a scoffing sound as he went to the kitchen sink, stripping off his sweaty T-shirt in the process. Lily couldn’t help appreciating the way his muscles bunched under his tanned skin when he put the shirt on the kitchen island before sticking his head into the deep think and allowing cold water to flow over his face and hair.
He was a breathtaking sight when he lifted his head a moment later, his dark locks slicked back from water, and droplets trailing down his face and onto his chest. Her mouth watered at the idea of licking them away, and she almost forgot his brother was there. Almost.
“I already told you I’m not meeting with them, Larenz. If she hadn’t been a woman, I would have killed her when I caught her with the shipment.”
Larenz shrugged again. “As you say. We certainly have the numbers to quell any urge to retaliate.”
Dante nodded. “Any turf war would be short-lived, brother. I won’t lower myself to meet with them. I know her cousin is going to demand some kind of compensation for the loss of her fingers, and we all know the dirty thief is lucky that’s all she got.”
Larenz nodded, and the motion was almost exactly identical to Dante’s from a moment earlier. It was uncanny, but as she looked closer, she just instinctively knew she would recognize Dante beside Larenz anytime—except maybe when he was facing away from her, and she hugged his back. She almost giggled at the thought, remembering Larenz’s outraged reaction, but reined in the impulse. They seemed to have almost forgotten she was there, and she wasn’t anxious to remind them of her presence as they discussed mob business, especially since she was certain it was related to the mess Shawn had gotten himself tangled in as well. Hadn’t Dante said Rasa was his Lithuanian girlfriend?
“I’ll relay your regrets.”
Dante snorted. “Yeah, you do that.” As Larenz walked past him, he clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Thanks though.”
Larenz’s frosty expression thawed slightly, and he smiled just a little at his brother. “I can only advise you about the wise thing to do, but I’ll freely admit I would take the same stance as you, brother. I wouldn’t meet with them either, and I can’t be certain I would have been as merciful as you were with Rasa.”
After that, Larenz left, and Lily moved closer to Dante, who was using his T-shirt to wipe his face and chest. She didn’t bother to ask about the exchange, having already gleaned enough information for herself to piece together what they had discussed. Had that been how Dante had dealt with Rasa? Had he taken two fingers in retribution for her stealing from him? A small shiver went down her spine, and she was thankful again that Shawn was safely far away from the influence of Rasa and the wrath of Dante.
“I’m going to take a shower, and then we could go out for breakfast, if you’d like?”
She made a noncommittal sound and watched him walk from the kitchen before making herself at home. She spent a moment acquainting herself with the layout and learning where he kept his supplies, and then set about making a quick breakfast that would surprise him.
By the time he returned fifteen minutes later, she had two plates waiting for them at the table, bearing eggs Benedict made with smoked salmon and a béarnaise caper sauce instead of hollandaise and fresh fruit. She used the Keurig to brew coffees for them, and she handed one to him as he stepped into the kitchen, appreciating his casual attire of khaki slacks and a yellow polo shirt. He looked ready to golf, or go out for breakfast, and she was still wearing just a shirt. His shirt. She wasn’t certain whether to feel disheveled or sexy as hell.
He looked at the table, his expression revealing surprise before he sipped his coffee, which she had prepared with cream and sugar, just as he liked it. “I was going to take you out, but this is much better.”
She nodded, giving him a slightly shy smile as she realized the scene was disquietingly domestic. It was something new for both of them, and she wondered if he was as nervous as she was as they sat at the table to enjoy a casual Saturday breakfast, just like millions of other couples across the world. It felt so normal and natural that it seemed positively unnatural in light of their pre-existing relationship.
Her hands trembled for a minute, and she had to grip the fork tightly before lifting the knife in a white-knuckled grasp as she forced away the wave of anxiety. It was silly to feel so anxious about sharing a meal with him, since they had eaten together before. That first night, his housekeeper had served them a gourmet meal, after all, but this felt…different. More intimate and meaningful, and not simply because she had cooked for him. Perhaps it was because she had made breakfast for him after spending the entire night in his bed.
“This is delicious. Where did you learn to cook?”
She took a bite, chewing and swallowing before answering. “It was kind of a necessity thing. My aunt wasn’t involved with us, as I’ve mentioned, and if we wanted to eat something besides Hamburger Helper and Ramen noodles, we had to make it ourselves. I used her scant selection of cookbooks to learn a few things, and then I started checking out books from the library. It took me about a year to learn how to teach myself how to cook pretty well, and then once I got really good, she made me do all the cooking.”
She flashed him a bright smile to hide the flicker of resentment that shot through her as she remembered that injustice. “I guess it’s never a good idea to do something well when people take advantage of it.”
He nodded, his gaze sympathetic, and he took a moment to squeeze her hand before he resumed eating. They chatted amicably over breakfast, and then he surprised her with an invitation to go sailing around the harbor. They spent most of the day indulging in the early summer weather before returning to her home in the afternoon.
She absolutely had to have something to wear out for dinner, having made do with a pair of his drawstring shorts and a T-shirt to go sailing. Once on board his small yacht, she hadn’t remained dressed for long, so it hadn’t been a big deal. Now, she dashed into the shower and prepared herself for dinner out with him while he went home to do the same.
When she emerged from the bathroom a little while later, wrapped in a towel, she let out a squeak of surprise when she saw him standing in her bedroom. “I thought you were going to get ready and then come back for me,” she said after catching her breath. “I didn’t expect to see you already.”
“I never left,” he said, looking slightly tense.
She glanced around him, surprised to see her luggage spread on the bed. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t like this neighborhood, so I’m taking you home with me. Take just the necessities tonight, and I’ll send someone to gather your things later.”
She walked toward him, frowning as she tucked her towel more firmly against her body. “There’s nothing wrong with this apartment.” It was a safe spot in a safe area of the city, and though it didn’t have a doorman, it required visitors to be buzzed in by a resident before they could gain entry.
“You’ll be safer at my place.” He spoke like it was his final decision.
She reached for the nearest suitcase, removing a stack of her frilly underclothes, and put them back in the dresser. “I’m fine where I am, thanks.” There was a marked lack of gratitude in her tone. There were a lot of things she liked about Dante, but his highhandedness was definitely not one of them.
“I’ve decided you’ll live with me, and our agreement allows me to make that decision.” He reached past her to scoop up the frilly things she had just returned to the dresser, this time dropping them into her suitcase with careless disregard that would ensure they all ended up wrinkled.
She reached past him to scoop them up again, uncaring if they got wrinkled in the process. At the moment, she was angry enough that she was certain he’d never see them again anyway, at least not on her. She started to reach for the dresser, but he grabbed the other side of the handful of lingerie and tugged. They engaged in a brief tug-of-war before the rending of silk filled the air.
She looked down, horrified at the sight of a pair of beige underwear split right down the middle. It was ludicrous, and she couldn’t help giggling even though she was still angry. “What the hell are we doing here?”
“Behaving like children,” said Dante with a hint of a grin. “Maybe I did this the wrong way. The truth is, Lily, I liked waking up with you in my bed this morning, and I enjoyed holding you all night. I liked having breakfast with you and spending the day together. I’d like more of that, so I decided to move you in with me.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but she was in a prickly position. Technically, there was no mention of living arrangements in their agreement, but she had conceded to do what he requested when he requested, though in a strictly sexual context. Still, it could be interpreted to cover demanding she lived with him. Couldn’t it?
Realizing she was hopefully looking for a way to latch onto the idea, she closed her mouth and bit back her protests. It was insanity, but she realized she wanted to move in with him. They were undoubtedly moving far too quickly, and surely their affair would last even less time now from extended proximity, but she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want the same thing he did. With a small sigh, she dropped the handful of lingerie back into the suitcase, minus the split pair of briefs. It was a clear sign of her surrender, and he recognized it as such.
“I like it when you cooperate,” he said with a slight growl in his voice as he dropped to his knees. “It’s almost as nice as when you try to fight me every step of the way. I like both sides of you.” He paused to peel off her towel before pressing his lips to her abdomen. “Of course, I like all parts of you.” He kissed a line down her belly, pausing at her mound. “It would be difficult to pick a favorite part, but I think it’s this part right here.” His hand slipped between her thighs, parting the folds of her pussy so his lips could venture lower, his tongue stroking the sensitive flesh between her labia.
She moaned and pressed her mound tighter against his tongue, vaguely aware of losing herself to passion. She was too caught up in the sensation of his tongue licking rapidly against her clit to pay much attention to anything besides that sensation. She simply buried her fingers in his hair and rode his face as he licked and sucked her pussy until she came in his mouth a moment later. The release was rapid, but no less satisfying for its speed.
In record time, he had his pants open, and his cock slid into her slick heat. He paused briefly, holding her against him with his hands cupping her ass as he moved her toward the wall, allowing it to support part of her weight. His gaze locked with hers, and she struggled to focus on him through the passion making her hazy.
“Did you start birth-control like we discussed?”
She managed a jerky nod.
“Is it effective now?”
Again, she nodded even as she was arching against him and circling her hips to stimulate her clit against his shaft buried deep inside her.
“Thank fuck, because there’s no way I’m pulling out of this sweet pussy to put on a condom. I’m not leaving this slice of heaven at all until I have to.”
She clung to him as he thrust in and out of her rapidly, at times almost painfully, with her body slamming against the wall each time he took her deeply, with a hint of roughness. She clung to his shoulders and met each thrust eagerly, temporarily inured to the pain of bumping against the wall as he fucked her hard and deep, as though staking a claim. The first spasms of his cock twitching inside her brought on her own orgasm, and she clamped her thighs tightly around him as she clung to his shoulders and writhed against him, riding out the last waves of her orgasm as his cum filled her. It was a new sensation, but one she was anxious to feel again already, even as she was coming down from the first orgasm.
They never did make it to dinner that night, but they finally returned to his house a couple of hours later with her suitcases in tow. She was now officially Dante’s girlfriend rather than just his mistress. It was a strange turn of events, but she didn’t regret how it had played out. She certainly wasn’t in love with Dante—of course she wasn’t—but she was happy to see where the relationship might lead, and apparently he felt the same way. She might end up happy from the bargain they had negotiated. Happier, she mentally amended, as she cuddled into bed with him later that night.
Before she knew it, three weeks had passed, and they were three of the happiest weeks of her life, which should have been surprising, considering what Dante did, and how they had come together. Instead, they had settled into a simple routine, and in some ways, it felt like she had lived with him forever.
He showed no inclination of growing bored with her or her presence, and though neith
er of them had admitted to feeling anything more than attraction and pleasure in each other’s company, she was certain he was feeling something more intense. It was the same something she was feeling, especially when he held her in his arms, whether it was to snuggle while watching a movie, or following a particularly rough session of sex, when she was coming down from the blissful aftermath of being handcuffed, whipped, and fucked within an inch of her life—something she had discovered a dark fascination for, thanks to Dante’s tutelage.
The only dark spot on the horizon was that she had lost contact with Shawn. For more than a week, he hadn’t answered the telephone number he had given her, which had been in the room where he was staying in a small hotel. He wasn’t answering his cell phone either, though she wasn’t even certain he had taken it with him.
She had proposed that he leave it behind, because it would allow someone to track him easily, and he’d seemed agreeable to the idea, but she had never come across the phone while packing up the apartment to give up her lease. Shawn had been living on the foldout couch in her living room, and his possessions had taken up a shelf against that wall. She’d found nothing to indicate her brother was embarking on a life of crime, and she hadn’t stumbled across a cell phone either.
She was concerned about him, but each time she opened her mouth to ask Dante for help finding him, she remembered her lover’s plans for her brother. If he found Shawn, he would likely still want to send him some place far away where Dante’s spies could keep an eye on his every move. Perhaps that was the best idea, but she was still hesitant to betray her brother’s whereabouts. She didn’t think Dante would hurt him, but she was frightened of what might happen if Shawn was back in that lifestyle again, even under the watchful gaze of someone Dante trusted.
Not that he seemed to be faring any better on his own.
With a sigh, she pushed away from the café table where she had paused for a light lunch after a shopping trip. She was fully enjoying the summer vacation, feeling no pressure to find a part-time job as she had in previous years while enrolled in college, or after the first year teaching last year. With no rent to pay, she had enough money in the bank to allow the luxury of the summer off before returning to nursing in the fall.
