Page 97 of Second Chance Daddy

Her only answer is a whimper, her legs shaking, cheek pressed hard against the wall, palms splayed flat, nails scraping uselessly against the paint.

“Say it,” I snarl, grabbing her hip with one hand, the other sliding down, fingers slipping between her thighs to find her clit.

“Dante—” she gasps, voice cracking, hips jerking as I rub tight, relentless circles, grinding my cock deeper with every thrust.

Her body arches, spine bowing, ass pushing back against my hips as I slam into her, my hand gripping her ass hard, spreading her wide so I can bury myself to the hilt.

“You gonna fall apart for me?” I rasp, my mouth brushing her ear, my hips snapping harder, pounding her into the wall so every thrust jolts through her spine. “You gonna soak my cock like you were made for it?”

She sobs my name, her cheek flush to the wall, eyes wild. Her whole body clamps down on me, tight, pulsing, and I feel her start to unravel.

“Come on, Cass,” I growl, circling her clit rough and fast, fucking her deeper, harder, until she shatters?—

Her moans are broken, high, and wrecked as she comes hard, walls clenching, thighs trembling, soaking me, her body wrung out between my hands and the fucking wall.

I don’t stop.

I keep grinding into her, chasing my own high, grabbing a handful of her ass, bruising my grip as I bury myself deep one last time, groaning low as I come inside her, every muscle locked, my head dropping to her shoulder.

The only sound left is both of us gasping, bodies trembling, her still pinned to the wall, my chest flush to her back, cock still buried inside her.

Slowly, I slide out, hand trailing down her spine, grounding her as her legs nearly buckle.

She turns with swollen lips and faded eyes. “I still hate that I love you,” she whispers in a ruined voice.

I smirk, catching her chin in my hand. “Lucky for you… It doesn’t change how I feel.”

I scoop her up and carry her to bed. Together, we collapse, and I roll to one side, keeping her right against myself.

Her head rests on my chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns up and down her spine. Neither of us bring up what she said earlier, what I feel in my bones. That she loves me, and I her. We don’t need to. They’re there in the way she curls against me, in the way my arms tighten around her. In the way we both finally surrender to sleep, tangled in each other like we never want to be untangled.

But our peaceful sleep is broken when the morning comes around with a warning.

The door flies open, jarring us awake.

Tina stands in the doorway with a pale face and eyes wide with panic.

“They’re coming for him,” she says, the words dropping like stones into the peace we’d convinced ourselves was finally ours for the keeping.

30

CASSIE

They’re coming for him.

The words slam into the room like a grenade.

I bolt upright in bed, sheets tangling around my legs, heart kicking against my ribs.

“Who?” My voice is raw, panic already closing in like a noose. “Gino’s family? His brothers?”

But Dante’s already moving—half-dressed, shoving his legs into black jeans, yanking a shirt over that scarred, furious chest.

He tosses my clothes onto the bed. His jaw’s tight, his eyes darker than a thunderstorm.

“Get dressed, Cass. We’ve got to get you out.”

Tina shuts the door behind her, making us pause.