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He pushes off the wall and takes a seat in his chair. I give him a kiss on the cheek before taking my seat.
“This is amazing,” Dante says, fanning his napkin on his knee.
“Thank you, my love. I made your favorite.” I pull the cover off the plate, and the smell hits us immediately. A mix of the basil, oregano spices, beef, and tomatoes. It smells sweet and savory.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks.
“Well, it’s Valentine’s Day. Or did you forget?”
He quirks an eyebrow.
“I didn’t. But I thought you weren’t interested in anything special.”
I know why he thought that. I was planning all of this while he suggested we go out, and I wanted it to be a surprise for him, but I didn’t want a surprise for me. I figured he wouldn't spring anything on me if he thought I wasn’t interested. Like I am doing to him right now.
“I wanted this to be a surprise,” I tell him as I shrug.
He nods with understanding before taking his first bite. His deep groans echo in the dining room, and I feel my panties start to soak.
“That’s very good, wife.”
Pride fills me, and I smile, very happy with myself.
Wait for it, babe. You haven’t seen the good part yet.
We make small talk as we eat. When we get to the cheesecake, things get interesting.
“Sit.” Dante pats his knee.
I push my chair out and walk over to my husband before sitting on his lap. He proceeds to feed me the cheesecake. Taking chunks of it and slipping them into my mouth. It’s so creamy, and the crust is magical. Dante’s hand slowly creeps up my thigh with every bite, and the air in the room shifts. It has been building to this for a while, but now it’s like someone clicked on a switch that goes from soft and sexy to passion and raw tension.
I lick his fingers, sucking on them like I would his cock. His shaft hardens under me, and every time I wiggle on his lap, he grunts like he’s in pain.
“I know what you’re doing, Bambola. Are you sure you want to let the beast out?” I grab his hand on my thigh and push it between my legs so he can feel my heat.
“That’s what this is all for, my love. I want that beast. I know you’ve been scared to let him out—”
“I haven’t—”
“Yes, you have. Don’t bullshit me, Dante.”
He shakes his head, agreeing with me.
“Anyway. I want to let you know that I’m fine now, and I really, really want you to fuck me. Like badly.”
“I have been fucking you, Bambola. Almost every night.”
“That’s not what I mean. Yes, we’ve been making love. I mean fucking. I mean in that raw way, like our first time. Nails dragging down your back, panting, breaking the bed. I miss that. I want that. I’m not some weakling. I can take it now.”
“I know you aren’t weak, Serenity.” He cups my face, and I nod.
“Then prove it. Fuck me, my king.”
He growls, his eyes darkening. Then he picks me up, the chair makes a noise as it scrapes across the floor, and he brings me to the living room, where he puts me on all fours on the L-shaped couch.
I grip the back of the couch as he pushes my dress up, revealing my panties, which he rips off with almost no effort.
The sharp sound of a smack reverberates around the room, and I can feel heat bloom on my ass.
