“Give me one hint. I promise I won’t tell anyone.” I plied him with my best puppy dog eyes.
After a month, I’d finally grown into our new relationship dynamic. Lazy mornings, explosive nights, and all the quiet, beautifully mundane moments in between. I’d even convinced Dante to attend a wedding cake tasting (we would fly the baker to Italy for the wedding), though his input had been questionable at best. He’d liked all of the cakes, even the “experimental” coconut meringue one that had no business touching anyone’s taste buds.
For the first time, I understood what being part of a real engaged couple felt like, and it was strange and beautiful and terrifying all wrapped into one.
Dante’s mouth curled into a grin. We were making progress on the less frowns, more smiles front. Not a lot, but some.
At this point, I took what I could get.
“That would be a convincing argument if the surprise wasn’t for you, mia cara,” he drawled.
“All the more reason for you to tell me. It’s my surprise. Don’t I get a say in when and how it’s revealed?”
“No.”
I released a long-suffering sigh. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Mr. Russo.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “You’ll thank me once we get there. This is a surprise that has to be shown, not told.”
We were in the limo on the way to some mysterious date he’d planned for us. Judging by the route we were taking, we were staying in upper Manhattan. He’d also told me to wear something nice but comfortable, so it couldn’t be anywhere too fancy.
Was it a private museum exhibit? Dinner at that hot new underground restaurant everyone was raving about?
“If you tell me now, I’ll stop putting those flowers you hate so much in the guest bathrooms,” I said.
“No.”
“I’ll stop hogging the covers.”
“No.”
“I’ll watch a soccer game with you. I’ll even pretend to like it.”
“Tempting,” he said dryly. “But no.”
I narrowed my eyes.
It wasn’t about the surprise at this point. I just wanted to see if I could make Dante crack. He was infuriatingly strong-willed.
I glanced at the closed, soundproofed partition separating us from the driver’s seat. Thomas, our chauffeur, was focused on the road ahead. Traffic crawled at a snail’s pace; at this rate, we’d reach our destination sometime in the year 2050.
“Is there any way I can convince you to change your mind?” I leaned closer and bit back a smile when Dante’s eyes flicked down.
My new Lilah Amiri dress was modest in length, but its V-neck exposed a generous amount of cleavage.
“I doubt it.” A hint of wariness crept into his voice when I put a hand on his chest and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“Are you sure?” My hand trailed down his stomach toward his groin.
His muscles were taut beneath my touch, and his throat flexed when I grazed his hardening erection.
Nerves and anticipation fluttered in my stomach.
We’d had sex almost daily over the past month, but I’d never initiated it in semi-public before. It was something Isabella or even Sloane would do, if she was in the mood. I was much more private, but the possibility of Thomas glancing in the mirror and seeing us sent a strange, unexpected thrill through my stomach.
Plus, I really wanted to know what the surprise was.
“Vivian…” Dante’s voice was heavy with warning.
I ignored it.
“I think you’re wrong.” I kissed my way down his jaw and neck while I worked his zipper down. “I think…” The soft rasp of metal dropped between my legs and pulsed. “There’s a way to persuade you.”
I pulled back and slid off the bench onto my knees. A warm heaviness settled in my stomach when I freed his erection. It was huge and hard and already dripping pre-cum, and a harsh groan filled the backseat when I swirled my tongue around the head.
I gripped the base of his cock with both hands and slowly slid its length down my throat until I hit the point where my eyes watered.
It wasn’t my first time giving Dante a blowjob, but I’d never fully get used to how big he was. How thick and long.
I’d taken him as far as I could, and there was still a good two inches between my mouth and the top of my stacked fists.
I whimpered, tasting the salty sweetness of him before I swirled my tongue around his head. Softly at first, then more confident as I fell into a rhythm, licking and sucking and bobbing until I was drenched.
I shouldn’t be this turned on already. My nipples shouldn’t be this hard, my skin this sensitive. Every light graze against his pant leg shouldn’t send a fresh jolt of electricity.
But I was, and they did, and I was drowning in so much sensation I couldn’t remember where we were or how we got here.
I just knew I didn’t want to leave.
Dante’s hands sank into my hair as the car went over a speed bump, inadvertently forcing him deeper down my throat. I spluttered, my chokes and gurgles filling the car as I struggled to accommodate the extra inches, but I didn’t pull back.
“Fuck, baby.” His groan curled low in my stomach. “That feels so good.”
I looked up, my eyes blurry with tears from taking him so deep, but pride rushed through me when I saw the pleasure carving stark, sensual lines into his face.
His eyes were closed, his head tipped back to expose the strong, tanned column of his throat. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and his muscles flexed every time I swept my tongue over the underside of his cock. His fingers strangled my hair to the point where pain and pleasure blurred into one.
There was something so heady about having someone like Dante at my mercy. I could either bring him over the edge or keep him there forever. His pleasure was entirely in my hands, and the knowledge thrummed between my thighs with heavy insistency.
I increased my pace, my hands working in tandem with my mouth, and just when I thought he would come, he fisted my hair with one hand and pulled my head back.
My noise of protest died when he lifted me onto his lap and crushed his mouth to mine. His arousal pressed against my core, separated only by a thin layer of silk, and I instinctively ground against it, desperate for more friction.
Another harsh groan vibrated down the length of my spine.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” Dante’s stubble scraped across my skin as his mouth trailed a line of fire down my neck.
He closed his teeth around the strap of my dress and gently tugged it down while he raised my hips so he could push my soaked thong to the side.
I didn’t have time to do more than gasp before he was inside me, filling me to the hilt with only one thrust.
I only had a few seconds to adjust before he gripped my hips and slammed me down again on his cock, hard, while he drove up inside me. Again and again, harder and faster, until my toes curled and the pressure building inside me neared a breaking point.
I clung to him, my head thrown back, my body nothing more than a mass of sensation as I matched his rhythm. I bounced up and down, grinding my clit against him on every down stroke.
“Just like that,” Dante growled. He grazed his teeth across my nipple, his breath raising goosebumps all over my skin. “Ride my cock like a good girl.”
An embarrassingly loud moan climbed up my throat when he closed his mouth around the pebbled peak and sucked. Wetness gushed down my thighs, over his leg, and onto the seat.
“You’re making a mess, sweetheart.” He turned his attention to my other nipple and tugged on it with his teeth. “Should I make you clean it up, hmm? Have you lick your own cum off the seat while I fuck you from behind?”
It was dirty and depraved, but his words triggered something deep inside me.
My orgasm slammed into me a second later with sudden ferocity, causing my back to arch and my mouth to fall open in a silent scream.
I was still trembling from the aftershocks when I felt Dante’s chuckle against my skin. “Here I thought you were so prim and proper when I first met you.”
I was too dazed to respond properly or notice when he maneuvered me into a different position.
One minute, I was on his lap. The next, I was on all fours, my hands and knees pressing into the rough black carpet covering the floor.