Page 33

I sank into the plush leather of Dante’s couch, my mind still reeling from the evening’s events. We hadn’t had any time to talk, and now that we did…I had no idea where to start.

Luckily, Dante seemed to have some idea.

“I’m sorry about my father,” he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the quiet room. “He can be...difficult. I don’t want you to think I’m anything like him.”

Well, that was an understatement. But looking into Dante’s earnest eyes, I saw none of the cold tyranny that his father wielded like a weapon. “I know you’re not,” I assured him, finding truth in the gentle concern etched across his face.

“Are your parents okay with the hotel?” he asked, shifting closer so our knees brushed.

I pulled out my phone, showing him the message from my sister. “They’ve checked in. They’re safe.” He nodded, his expression unreadable as he processed the information.

The silence stretched between us, filled with unspoken questions and the weight of decisions yet made. “I still don’t know what to do, Dante,” I finally admitted as I tucked a strand of dark hair behind my ear. The BioHQ stocks were tempting—a token of security in the unstable world I’d stumbled into. And if it hadn’t been for Dante’s dad, well, I might have been more inclined to marry him. “I need more time to think.”

He nodded, his gaze steady on mine, and I could see the wheels turning behind those intense, dark eyes. “Take all the time you need, Jade. Whether it’s the stocks or...marrying me,” he paused, his voice barely concealing the hope that lingered there. “I’ll be here, and I’ll support whatever decision you make.” His hand found mine, strength and warmth enveloping my fingers.

“Thank you,” I whispered, grateful for the space he offered in the eye of a storm that was both of our lives. It was a rare calm, a momentary respite from the chaos that seemed to chase us relentlessly. “Dante, tell me you’re scared too.”

He pulled me close, his arms a fortress against the uncertainty. “Terrified,” he admitted, and in that instant, his voice cracked the strongman facade, revealing the vulnerable soul beneath. “I’ve seen too much, lost too much. And now, with you and...” His gaze drifted downward, resting on my barely-there bump, the future we never planned for.

“Jade,” Dante continued, his voice heavy with a gravity that sent shivers through me, not from fear but from the weight of his words. “If something happens to me—if we’re married—you and our son will inherit everything. It’s not just about love; it’s about protection.”

“Stop.” My hand pressed against his lips, stilling the cascade of worries. “Nothing is going to happen to you.” The conviction in my voice surprised even me, a defiance against a fate I refused to accept.

“You don’t know that,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl of protest. It was a reality check I didn’t want, a reminder that the world outside this room was cruel and unpredictable.

A tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek—a silent rebel against the composure I fought to maintain. Probably a symptom of my pregnancy.

I hated it.

Dante’s hands found mine, his grasp both gentle and insistent, as if he could transfer his strength through our intertwined fingers.

“Jade,” he breathed, dropping to his knees before me, his presence grounding. “I love you. More than power, more than tradition. I need to know you’ll be taken care of. Both of you.”

His lips brushed the skin above my knee, sending a shockwave through my body, jarring loose another tear, then another. The fabric of my constraints fell away as he eased my pants off, peeling back the layers of fear and uncertainty along with them.

“Let me take care of you now,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my thigh. There was no space for pretenses or pride—only raw need and the man who knelt before me.

The floodgates of desire burst open, a torrent of emotion and longing that I had been keeping at bay for so long. His touch ignited a spark within me, setting my nerves ablaze. I let out a soft gasp as his hands worked their magic, tracing patterns of desire on my skin, each touch sending an electric shockwave through me.

He pressed his lips against the inside of my leg. “Fuck, you always smell so good,” he said. “You’re already so wet for me.”

His words caused a sweet, delicious ache to spread through me, pooling between my thighs, and I struggled to catch my breath. Desire clouded my senses as he gently parted my legs, his gaze intense. He looked up at me then, his eyes dark and filled with a raw need that mirrored my own.

“Dante,” I moaned, my body arching towards him instinctively. His fingers found the wet heat of me, sending shivers coursing through my body. The room filled with the heady scent of our arousal, intoxicating in its intensity.

He moved my underwear aside and lapped at my clit with a fervor that made me gasp. His tongue was warm and insistent, coaxing me toward a precipice I was only too willing to tumble over. The world beyond our intimate bubble faded into obscurity, replaced by the primal rhythm of our bodies syncing in time with each other.

I clung to him, my fingers sinking into his dark hair as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me. He didn’t let up, his mouth continuing its sweet assault even as my body convulsed around him. “Dante,” I cried out, my voice echoing off the marble walls of the penthouse.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice muffled against my skin. At that moment, the world outside—the Carusos, the Morettis, the impending marriage proposal— ceased to exist. It was just Dante and me.

My breath hitched as he slid two fingers inside me, curving them to hit that spot inside that made my vision blur. His movements were slow, measured, each thrust calculated to drive me closer to the edge.

He granted me no respite as his tongue returned to my clit, his fingers never ceasing their delicious torment. The familiar coil of pleasure tightened in my stomach. Pleasure washed over me in waves and I cried out his name again and again as he brought me to an intense climax.

He sucked on my clit again and another wave of pleasure washed over me, making my body convulse under his touch. He slowly withdrew his fingers, placing a gentle kiss on my still trembling thigh before rising to his feet.

“Can you squirt for me, beautiful?”

His dark eyes met mine, a glimmer of mischief dancing within their depths. I nodded, my body still humming from the climax he had drawn from me.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers finding my wetness once again. This time he moved differently—two fingers deep within me, his thumb circling my clit.

I gasped at the sensation, my body already sensitized from the previous orgasm. It was different this time—more intense, more urgent. The pressure inside me grew with each of his deliberate movements.

“God, Dante,” I groaned, my body trembling under his touch. He continued his relentless pace, each stroke of his fingers pushing me closer to the edge. His other hand slipped beneath me, pressing against the small of my back to support my squirming body.

His eyes locked onto mine as he worked me closer to the brink, his gaze burning with intensity. “Let go, Jade,” he urged, his voice gruff and laced with a desire that set my blood aflame.

I did. With a cry that echoed off the marble walls, I came apart under his expert touch, my body convulsing around his fingers in a rush of warmth and release. Dante rode out the waves of my climax until I was left panting and sated on the sofa.

He pulled away from me then, standing to rid himself of his own clothing with a speed borne of desperation. The sight of him stripped bare sent another wave of heat coursing through me.

He edged my body down, until my head rested against the plush armrest of the couch. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead before sliding back down.

Sinking between my legs, he settled against me, the hard length of him pressing insistently against my still-sensitive flesh. His body shuddered, a sigh escaping from between his gritted teeth as he slowly entered me. The exquisite stretch of him filled me completely, each inch of him igniting a fresh wave of desire.

“Dante,” I whispered, my hands gripping at the muscled expanse of his back. He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth before capturing my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue mirroring the erotic rhythm of our bodies.

His thrusts were slow and measured, a sweet torture that had me writhing beneath him. The coiled tension within him was palpable as he strained for control—his always-present need to protect warring with his primal instincts.

I locked my legs around his waist, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us. Our breath melded together in the heated air of the penthouse, every gasp and moan echoing off the walls.

“I need you to fuck me hard,” I said.

Somewhere, a phone vibrated. It didn’t matter.

His response was immediate, a growl of desire that sent shivers down my spine. His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he increased his pace. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, each thrust echoing my own desperate need.

The pleasure built like a crescendo, each note more intense than the last as Dante drove me relentlessly towards the edge. I clung to him, my fingers sinking into his muscles as I rode the wave of ecstasy.

“Fuck,” I said.

“God, you’re so tight,” he said, his voice strained with pleasure. He thrusted harder, quicker, each movement causing me to gasp. Our bodies moved together in a symphony of desire, reaching the crescendo that promised sweet release. “Do you want me to choke you?”

I could only nod, breathless, as the room tilted on its axis. I had never experienced this level of intensity with Dante—or anyone else for that matter—and it left me reeling.

His hand slid around my throat, applying just enough pressure to send another jolt of pleasure coursing through me. There was a primal thrill in that moment—being so utterly vulnerable and yet so completely cherished by the man I was growing to love.

“Dante,” I gasped, my voice strained with desire. A whimper escaped my lips as he pushed deeper, his grip tightening ever so slightly around my neck. The world contracted, narrowing down to Dante and the pleasure he elicited in me.

My vision blurred at the edges as the tension coiled tighter within me, the pleasure escalating until it was almost unbearable. I clung to him, my nails scratching against his sweat slicked back as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me.

“I’m close,” he warned, his breath hitching as he struggled to maintain control. But I didn’t want him to hold back—not now. I needed him—needed to feel him lose himself in me just as I had in him.

My legs tightened around him and he gasped, his rhythm faltering slightly. My body was already on the precipice, teetering on the edge of sweet oblivion.

“Don’t stop,” I urged him, my voice barely a whisper. Dante responded with a guttural groan, his movements growing more relentless.

Suddenly, the world shattered around me. My climax hit me with the force of a freight train, my body convulsing around him as pleasure ripped through me in wave after wave. Dante followed me over the edge, his body tensing as he buried himself to the hilt one final time.

Exhaustion seeped into my bones as we lay tangled together on the penthouse sofa, our bodies slick with sweat and sated from our lovemaking. For a moment, we were just Jade and Dante - not the mafia boss and the scientist, not pawns in a game of power and deceit - just two people who found solace in each other’s arms.

Then his phone rang again. Dante sighed. “Hold on, I think I have to take this.”

Leaning over, Dante swiped his phone from the coffee table in a swift motion. His eyes skimmed the caller ID before meeting mine. “Marco,” he said, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the stillness of the penthouse.

He hit the speaker button and Marco’s frantic voice filled the room, “Dante! The Carusos – they just hit one of our clubs. Sal... Sal’s been injured.”

The words hung heavy in the air, casting an ominous shadow over the bubble of intimacy we’d created. Dante stiffened beside me, his muscles tensing as he processed Marco’s words.

“How bad?” He demanded, his voice an ice-cold whisper.

“He’s in hospital, man,” Marco responded shakily. “He’s alive but unconscious.”

Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. “Which hospital?”

“I don’t know,” Marco replied. “But I’m pretty sure when he wakes up, he’s going to be swarmed by feds.”

Dante let out a groan, his hand raking through his already tousled hair. The shadows under his eyes seemed to deepen, the harsh realities of his life settling heavily on his shoulders once more. The pleasure of moments ago was quickly replaced with the bitter taste of reality. I watched in silence as Dante’s composure slipped, giving way to a raw vulnerability that made my heart ache.

Marco’s voice broke through the tense silence again, “Dante...we need to respond. It’s an insult, a challenge.”

“Not now Marco,” Dante bit out, struggling to keep his anger in check. His grip on his phone tightened and for a moment I was afraid he would shatter it.

“Dante—“

“Not now!” Dante roared before abruptly ending the call. He bowed his head, a hand coming up to squeeze the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off an impending headache.

“Hey,” I cooed gently, placing a tentative hand on his arm. His muscles were coiled tight under my touch but he didn’t move away. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not okay.”

“So what—“

He held up a hand to silence me and I fell quiet, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. He stared blankly ahead for a moment before turning to look at me, the intensity of his gaze causing my heart to flutter in my chest.

“You asked earlier if I was serious about escaping,” he said quietly, almost as if he was afraid to break the fragile silence that had settled in the room. “Are you?”

“Of course,” I said without hesitation. The declaration hung in the air between us like an unseen promise—a vow of solidarity against the daunting odds we faced.

A grim smile tugged at Dante’s lips as he pulled me closer, his arms encircling me in a protective embrace. “Then pack your things, Jade. We’re leaving.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, Jade…is that we have to run.”