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She trembled—her whole body reacting to the intimate gesture. Her breath caught as she stared at him, stunned. The more she tried to hide her reaction, the more her face flushed with heat.
“This one tastes good,” he muttered, his gaze dark and intense.
Then he leaned down again—this time kissing her hard. His mouth moved over hers with urgency, his grip tightening, like he couldn’t get enough of her. She shuddered beneath him, clinging to his shoulders, barely able to breathe.
Just when she thought she’d melt into the kiss completely, he pulled back slightly. She felt something cold slide onto her finger.
She blinked, then lifted her hand—and froze.
There, sitting on her ring finger, was a stunning diamond ring—elegant and extravagant. One of the most expensive cuts she’d ever seen.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“A little gift for you,” Dante murmured, his lips brushing along her neck. The soft kisses sent tingles racing down her spine, making her squirm under him.
“Anya,” Dante said softly, his breath brushing her ear. “We’re getting the marriage registered tomorrow.”
Her head snapped up in surprise. “Already? Shouldn’t we have a wedding first—like, with the hall and everything?”
“I can’t wait that long,” he muttered with a frown, brushing her hair back. “I want you with me every single day. But you keep going home, and honestly, it’s driving me insane. I swear, if we delay any longer, I might just kidnap you and lock you in my basement.”
She burst into laughter, shaking her head. “Alright then. Tomorrow it is.”
A wide, boyish grin broke across his face, the kind that reached his eyes. He was trying to stay calm, but the excitement in him was impossible to miss.
He pulled her closer and whispered, “Anya… is there anything you want to tell me before we get married? Anything you’re hiding?”
His voice was gentle. His eyes searched hers.
She leaned up, kissed him on the lips, and whispered, “There is... but I promise I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“Alright,” he said quietly.
But his eyes didn’t move from hers. Not for a second.
In the next heartbeat, he lifted her effortlessly, pulling her into his lap, her legs straddling him, chest pressed to his. His handsran down her back, then gripped the hem of her dress and yanked it upward. Fabric tore. She gasped. He didn’t stop. His mouth found hers again, all fire and heat, tongue claiming her like he couldn’t wait one more second.
He pulled her closer, until there was no space between them. Her bra came undone in his hands like it was nothing. Then her panties—dragged down her thighs with one rough pull. His breath was ragged now. He shoved off his own clothes like they were in the way of breathing.
Then he took her.
Hard.
She clung to him as he moved—again and again—his hands holding her down like he couldn’t risk her slipping away. Her cries filled the room, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. His name tore from her lips in broken gasps, and still he held her, rode her, kissed every sound she made.
The night blurred into shadows and heat. And he didn’t stop until she was trembling in his arms, until she couldn’t even speak, only hold onto him—shaking, breathless, undone.
***
The next morning, Anya stepped out of the car with Dante, her fingers tightly clasped in his.
She’d gone home early to change, freshen up, grab her ID and rush back out to meet him. Now, walking toward the courthouse together, her heart pounded with excitement. Everything felt like a dream—fast, overwhelming, and electric.
Dante hadn’t let go of her hand since last night. As they walked toward the courthouse together, his fingers gripped hers like hewas afraid she’d vanish. He kept glancing at her, smiling like a man who’d just won the world.
When they reached the entrance, he suddenly turned her toward him and looked deep into her eyes. “I love you, Anya,” he said. “This is the start of our life together. I swear, I’ll never let anything make you sad.”
Anya’s heart swelled. She held his hands with both of hers and nodded, smiling.