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He won’t, of course. He has strict orders at all times, and Marco is nothing if not loyal.
“That’s it, beautiful,” I whisper to her, using the hand on her hip to aid her movements, to help her grind her clit on my thigh. Those shorts are paper thin, and I can feel a wet spot forming where her pussy is, the idea alone making my cock grow harder. I nip her ear then kiss the skin below it. “That’s it, baby. You grind on my thigh, and you get yourself there. You stay quiet for your man, but you come right fucking here, right fucking now.” The doorknob moves, an angry gesture, but I don’t care.
If Paulie comes in right now, it would be dangerous. He is the boy who always wants what the big kids have and throws a tantrum when he doesn’t get his way.
It would be dangerous for Lilah to be seen with me like this. For him to think she means anything at all to me.
Because just like my brother, if I show interest, he wants it. And nothing would be worse than Paulie wanting Lilah, especially if he figures out who she is and the potential power she could claim. The potential power he could claim, using her.
But in this moment, I’ll risk it. I’ll take it.
“Dante,” she whispers under her breath, her movements frantic, those sharp nails she files into points biting into my shoulders nearly painfully.
“Come for me, beautiful,” I whisper, then I take her mouth with mine as her body tenses and she moans into my mouth. My hand moves to the back of her neck, forcing her mouth to mine harder, making sure not a sound leaves her lips as her hips continue to buck, her body shaking gently with her orgasm. And as her body slowly loosens, I continue to hold her, kissing her slowly as she comes back into the world.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, eyes going to the door. “Oh my god!” I let her down gently until her feet are stable before grabbing her face with both hands.
“Mine. You are mine. You know that, I know that. That’s all you have to know.” I stare into her big, beautiful blue eyes and touch my lips to hers once more. “Do you trust me?”
I wait for her to argue. For her to say no. To fight me as is her way.
She’s right: there hasn’t been the time needed to build authentic trust. I haven’t shared nearly enough with her to have her trust my motives. All there is is the draw, the push and pull between us, the feeling that this is undeniable, a feeling that says she is mine and I am hers, and it was always supposed to be this way.
I wouldn’t blame her if she says no. If she says there is no way she could trust me.
But instead, she breaths and nods.
“Yeah,” she says quietly.
“Sit in that chair. Don’t look at Paulie. Eyes on me, on Marco, or in your lap. That’s it.”
“Dante—"
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“What?”
“Trust me, beautiful,” I say, leading her to the chair and straightening my clothes. “Just trust me.” I stare at her until she nods before I move.
And then I open the door, letting in my right hand and my raging nephew.
Thirty-Two
-Dante-
“What the fuck is going on, Dante?” Paulie asks, his voice unnecessarily loud. A child who has never been told no.
That’s what my twenty-eight-year-old nephew is.
I am barely twelve years his senior, a smaller gap than my brother and I had growing up, and I think in some ways, it makes him forget that I’m older. Wiser. That I am to be respected and treated as such.
Whatever.
One day he’ll learn. I move to sit behind my desk, liking the look of my Lilah across from me, cheeks still flushed and breathing not entirely normal.
“What, were you busy?” I ask, knowing damn well he was anything but. I hired Paulie as a favor to my father, but if I’m being blunt, Paulie is a lazy piece of shit. His workdays include walking around like he owns the places, trying to get laid by the dancers, or drinking my fucking liquor. And when he’s not being lazy, he’s doing dumb shit that will get him killed or put in prison.
Just like his father.
