Dante’s grip tightened around my throat. “Maybe not,” he said darkly. “But you are mine. You asked if it was still just business…” He dragged his cock out slowly, letting me feel every inch of him, before slamming it back in. Electric sensations shot through me, turning my body into a live wire. “Does this feel like business?”
No, it didn’t.
It felt like hope.
It felt like desire.
It felt like ruin and salvation all in one.
Dante’s pace slowed, but the power in each thrust remained vicious. Still, his next words contained a shadow of vulnerability that took what was left of my breath away.
“You don’t know what you do to me.” The rawness of his voice matched the desire in his eyes—dark and fathomless and so visceral I felt it in my bones.
It was that look and those words, spoken in that voice, that finally tipped me over the edge.
I came with a sharp cry, my body shuddering around his. He followed soon after, his cock pulsing inside me until we were both spent and gasping for air.
We held on to each other, our breaths gradually evening in unison as we came down from our highs.
“Look at us, mia cara.” Dante’s soft command brushed against my skin.
I did.
Our reflections stared back at us, dazed and slick with sweat. His arms wrapped around me from behind, and his cheek pressed against mine as our gazes connected in the mirror.
Something that was both ache and fullness tugged at my heart.
What we’d had wasn’t soft, emotional sex, at least not on the surface. But beneath the rough hands and filthy words, a storm of emotions had blown through and upended our entire relationship.
Six months of pent-up frustration, lust, anger, and everything in between, all unleashed in one night.
I wouldn’t know the aftermath until morning.
But I knew there was no going back to the way things used to be.
Vivian
The early morning light cast soft shadows on the floor. Stillness weighed heavy in the air, and every movement sounded too loud as I inched my way off the mattress.
It was five after seven, the earliest I’d woken up on a weekend since my crack-of-dawn flight to Eldorra for Agnes’s wedding years ago, but I needed to leave before Dante woke up.
My feet grazed the rug.
“Where are you going?” The rough, sleepy rumble of Dante’s voice touched my back.
I froze, my toes curling into the plush triple ply while my heart took off on a gallop.
Stay calm. Stay cool.
Even if his voice sparked a host of X-rated memories.
Look in the mirror when I’m fucking you.
You like this? Watching me wreck your pussy while you make a mess all over my cock?
Heat crawled over my cheeks, but I attempted a neutral expression when I turned.
Dante sat up against the headboard, charcoal silk sheets rumpled around his waist. A smooth expanse of olive skin stretched over the naked, sculpted planes of his shoulders and tapered down to a lean waist. His V cut arrowed beneath the sheets like an invitation to pick up where we left off last night.
I forced my gaze up only to find his eyes waiting for mine. A knowing smirk tugged on his lips as he leaned back, oozing casual arrogance and pure male satisfaction.
Smug bastard.
Yet it didn’t stop butterflies from erupting in my stomach.
“I’m going to work,” I said breathlessly, remembering his question. “Legacy Ball crisis. It’s urgent.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“Crises don’t operate on a workweek schedule.” I discreetly tugged on the hem of my top.
I wore one of Dante’s old college T-shirts, and it fell somewhere between scandalous and mid-thigh.
His eyes flicked down and darkened.
The heat spread from my face to somewhere south of my stomach.
“Perhaps not, but that’s not why you’re sneaking out of my bed at seven in the morning, mia cara.” Some of the sleep evaporated from his voice, leaving satin and smoke behind.
“No?” My voice squeaked like a door hinge in need of oil.
“No.” His gaze met mine again. Challenge glinted in its depths.
Who’s the one running now?
The unspoken words sank into my bones.
“You wanted to talk,” he said. “Let’s talk.”
I swallowed the nerves lodged in my throat. Okay then.
I’d pictured our conversation happening a little differently. I would be fired up and full of indignation—and dressed in my best outfit, of course—not sitting on the edge of his bed, smelling like him and wearing his T-shirt while the memory of his touch was imprinted on my skin.
But he was right. We needed to talk, and there was no point in delaying the inevitable.
I addressed the elephant in the room first.
“Heath came over last night because he said I texted him about wanting to get back together.”
A shadow crossed Dante’s face at the mention of Heath, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I didn’t. Well…” I amended my statement. “He showed me his phone, and there is a text that looks like it was from me, but I never sent it. Maybe it was a prank or a hack. I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. My answer to his…proposal hasn’t changed since the last time we spoke. He refused to accept that, and we went back and forth for hours until you showed up.”
I should’ve kicked Heath out long before Dante came home. However, I’d never quite gotten over my guilt for how my parents treated him when they found out about our relationship.
Vivian is a Lau. She’s meant to marry someone great, not a so-called entrepreneur with a company no one’s heard of. You are not good enough for her, and you never will be.
Two years later, the memory of my father’s harsh words still made me wince.