Page 56 of Dante

I cuddle Biscotti, planning my next course of seduction.

On our wedding night, Dante made it clear he would visit my bedroom when he wanted to make love.

Not the other way around.

But all the excitement and intensity this evening has left me feeling frisky.

A thrill runs through me as I remember Dante reaching for his gun when he thought Silvio might punish me.

It was also rather arousing to see the way other women cast admiring eyes on my handsome husband.

Dante’s aura of power and control is clearly a turn on to me and every other woman.

Most of all, the best thing about tonight was the way Silvio inadvertently created awareness and appreciation for my art.

Though Dante and I are still in the getting-to-know-you phase, I’m positive that Dante warmed to me tonight.

He liked the image I presented in my fancy new Antoine-bought designer clothing.

Even though I sensed the other women judging me, whispering about me, in my bones, most would agree I’m a good match for their leader.

That said, I did hear people murmur Mary’s name in combination with mine.

Like they were comparing us.

When will it end?

Not until I bear Dante’s sons, I think to myself.

And unless he visits my room on a regular basis, that’s not going to happen either.

A child is just what we need to make us a family. A real family in the fullest sense of the word.

Dante’s still looking at his phone. I can’t bear it anymore. I reach over to raise the partition that shields us from Thomas’s eyes and ears.

Then I put my hand on Dante’s inner thigh.

He shifts his position, and I move my hand higher.

The outline of his thick cock becomes visible beneath the silk of his designer trousers.

With a glance toward Thomas behind the partition, I move my hand to his dick, enjoying the powerful feeling of his erection against my palm.

I continue to stroke Dante through the silky fabric, hoping he’ll turn away from his screen and kiss me.

Touch me.

His free hand comes down on mine.

Stops it. He doesn’t look up from the phone.

“Hands to yourself, wife.”

Just like that. Quiet and final in tone.

He moves my hand back to my own thigh and goes on scrolling like nothing’s changed.

Dante may not be turned on, but I certainly am.