Bound By Duty (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 2)
Bound By Duty: Chapter 14

Frank? I’d recognize his red hair and lanky stature anywhere. Enzo shot me a look but I quickly tore my eyes away from Antonio’s former lover before Enzo followed my gaze. What was Frank doing here? He should know better than to creep around the house of a mob member, especially the Boss of the Outfit. But then, Frank probably didn’t know that’s what Dante was unless Antonio had revealed more to his lover than I was aware of.

I tried to keep a passive face as we pulled up the driveway, but I wasn’t sure I was succeeding. Enzo definitely had picked up that something was wrong and kept looking my way. “Thanks for picking me up,” I said and slipped out of the car the moment we came to a stop in the garage. Once inside the house, I strode upstairs into one of the guest bedrooms facing the street but when I peered out of the window, Frank was already gone.

I had to figure out a way to contact him to replace out what he wanted. But how?

I wasn’t supposed to leave the house unguarded anymore. And I didn’t even know where Frank lived, but I had a feeling he’d show up again soon. There must be something he needed to talk to me about. What if he wanted to blackmail me?

Great, now Dante’s manipulation was making me paranoid. Next time Frank was around I’d simply have to replace a way to sneak out of the house to talk to him.

A knock made me jump. The door was ajar and Gaby poked her head in. “Dinner’s ready,” she said shyly. “Mr. Cavallaro is waiting for you.”

“Couldn’t he have told me that himself?”

Gaby flushed. “I’m sorry. He sent me to get you.”

I touched her shoulder as I walked past her. “Don’t worry. I’m not blaming you.”

She followed a few steps behind me as we headed downstairs. Before I entered the living room, I turned to her. “You don’t have to trail behind me. We can walk side by side, Gaby.”

She nodded before she disappeared through the door leading into the staff area. With a sigh, I stepped into the living room. Dante was sitting in his usual spot at the end of the table. I crossed the living area and headed for him. My plate was placed at the other end of the table as it had been the other evenings. Somehow this made me unreasonably angry today. I stopped next to my chair, but didn’t sit down. “Why am I supposed to sit so far away from you?”

Dante lifted an eyebrow. “Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry. I don’t want to go through meals as if we’re strangers. You never try to keep that much distance between us when you fuck me.” The word made my skin crawl with discomfort but I stood my ground.

Dante’s eyes narrowed a fraction, always so cool and calculating. “I wasn’t the one who insisted we have sex. If I recall, you were quite adamant about it.”

I couldn’t believe he acted as if he didn’t enjoy it. Maybe I wasn’t experienced but I knew that he’d enjoyed himself tremendously. I grabbed my plate and cutlery and carried them over to the place beside Dante where I sat them down with a bit too much force, making them clank loudly. I lowered myself into the chair, then stared at Dante defiantly.

“Please tell Zita to set the table like this from now on.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said indifferently.

Zita walked in and I didn’t get the chance to say something else. Her eyes flitted from Dante to me and a smile crossed her face. I really wanted to scream. She set down our plates. Homemade sweet potato gnocchi, sage butter and veal cutlets. She took her sweet time before she left again.

I speared a gnocchi and slid it into my mouth, then almost sighed because it was so delicious, but I didn’t want Dante to think I’d already gotten over my anger toward him.

Dante cut his veal without hurry. My eyes took in his strong hands, remembering how they felt on my skin, and hating myself for wanting to feel them again, despite his frustrating behavior.

“How was the visit with your parents?” Dante asked eventually. He sounded so blasé, I couldn’t even count the question as an attempt at making up for his rudeness.

“Didn’t my father give you a report?”

Dante slid a piece of veal into his mouth before he leveled his gaze on me. “We talk about business in our meetings,” he said, then a bit sharper. “I don’t know why you’re acting like a petulant child. If I wanted a wife who did that, then I would have chosen Gianna.”

I dropped my fork with a clang. “Then maybe you should ask her. I’ll marry Matteo. At least I hear he isn’t a cold fish.”

“Cold fish, hm? That’s what people call me?”

“They call you many things, but that’s the most accurate description of your character I’ve come across so far.”

“So are you interested in Matteo?”

“Excuse me?” The sudden question threw me off.

“You danced with him at our wedding and you seemed to enjoy yourself more than usual.”

“Are you jealous of Matteo?”

“I’m not jealous, no. I’m merely trying to protect what’s mine.”

That sounded an awful lot like jealousy to me. “I don’t know why you even care. You don’t seem to be interested in me outside of the bedroom, and even that was initiated by me as you pointed out so helpfully. Right now, I think you’d probably give me one of your cold looks if you ever caught me in bed with Matteo, and then go back to work.” I wasn’t even sure why Matteo was even a topic. I’d never been interested in him. He’d always been too unpredictable for my taste.

“I’d go back to work, yes,” he said with a predatory smile. “After gutting Matteo and watching him bleed to death.” He took a sip of his white wine.

I gave up. It was obviously not possible to talk to Dante like husband and wife. We ate the rest of our dinner in silence, only broken by the scratching of our knives on the plates and the occasional thud when we set out glasses down on the table.

***

I was half asleep when Dante came into bed. The mattress dipped and then his warm body pressed up against me. I didn’t stir. Dante brushed my hair off my back and pressed a hot kiss against my neck, then followed it with a gentle bite. I was glad I lay on my stomach and could stifle my gasp in the pillow. I didn’t want him to know how much his touch affected me, how much my body craved his ministrations. I was still mad at him for his words during dinner, but my body had a mind of its own.

Dante didn’t seem too put off by my unresponsiveness. He trailed his tongue over my shoulder blade, then along the bumps of my spine until the nightgown was in his way. He made his way back up and sucked the skin over my pulse point into his mouth, then left soft kisses up to my ear. He moved even closer, so I could feel his erection through the fabric of his pajama pants. It took all my self-control not to reach out and curl my fingers around his hard-on. His breathing was hot against my ear as he licked my earlobe, making me shiver with desire.

He brushed my neck with his knuckles, then moved lower until he reached the dip above my butt. My breathing was coming faster and I could feel my panties sticking to my center from arousal but I still didn’t move. This time I wouldn’t be the one initiating anything.

Dante slid his hand over my butt before dipping between my legs. He groaned when his fingers brushed my panties. It took all my willpower not to press myself against his hand for some friction. His mouth found my ear. “I know you’re ignoring me, but you should learn to control your body if you want to succeed in doing so.”

That infuriating bastard.

Dante sat up and pushed my nightgown up before hooking his fingers under the waistband of my panties and sliding them down my legs. I lifted my face from the pillow and glimpsed over my shoulder. It was too dark in the room to make out much. The silvery moonlight streaming through the windows cast Dante into shadows, but I was certain he was watching me. Then his hands were back on me. He massaged my calves, slowly working his way up higher. His breathing was deep and calm in the dark. He slipped his hand between my legs and pushed them apart. I buried my face back in the pillow when his fingers found my folds and started stroking my clit. He shifted and then his lips were on my butt. He bit my cheek lightly, then soothed the spot with his tongue and lips. I almost came right then. Instead I sank my teeth into my lower lip to hold on longer. This was too good to be over so soon. Dante repeated the motions until he’d worked his way back up to my throat and I was a boneless heap of desire.

I parted my legs even further for him, not caring that only hours ago I’d sworn myself to ignore him until he stopped treating me with cold detachment outside of the bedroom, but as he rubbed my clit need overtook my reasoning. He spread my wetness, then slid two fingers into me. I arched my butt up to give him better access to my opening. He started moving his fingers in and out slowly while his lips kept up their ministrations on my throat and shoulder, always alternating between nibbling, licking and kissing. He was panting too. This was affecting him. I moved my hand to the bulge in his pants and started rubbing it through the fabric. He released a harsh breath into my ear. “Every moment of the day I think of the things I want to do with you, catch myself remembering your taste, your smell. Sometimes I think I’ll go insane if I don’t bury myself in you.”

I whimpered. Why couldn’t he show me that during the day? Why did he have to act like I was nothing but a needy wife? He thrust his fingers faster into me and I moved my hips against them, wanting him deeper. He hit a sweet spot deep in me; fire licked my belly and core, making me cry out as pleasure rippled through me. Dante kept pumping into me as I bucked my hips desperately, riding the waves of my orgasm. I slumped against the mattress, not enough energy in me to keep my butt raised. Dante’s fingers were still buried in me, but they were moving slowly, almost tenderly in and out of me.

I sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart, but Dante had other plans. He shifted and there was the rustling of clothes, then he was back beside me. He bent down and rasped into my ear. “I want to feel your hot mouth again.”

I shivered. I twisted and braced myself on my elbows. In the shadows I could see Dante’s outline as he knelt on the bed next to me. His cock was inches from my face, long and hard, and waiting for me. Dante tangled his hands in my hair and gently pushed me closer to his erection. He smelled clean, of soap, spicy and fresh. His erection brushed my lips and I parted them, and took him into my mouth, tasting the saltiness of pre-cum on his tip. It spiked my own arousal. The iceman was eager for me. I swirled my tongue around his cock, then dipped my tip into the small slit in his head. Dante’s fingers in my hair tightened as he made a sound deep in his throat. His grip wasn’t painful and oddly erotic. Dante pushed slowly into me, and I took him deeper and deeper into my mouth until I almost gagged, then let him slide all the way out. Soon Dante seemed to want to take control of the situation and started thrusting in and out of my mouth slowly at first, then faster. His hand in my hair kept me in place as he took my mouth. I hummed in approval. This was far hotter than I could have imagined. Having Dante fuck my mouth, having him above me, guiding my head the way he wanted it was a huge turn-on, and I began moving my pussy against the sheets, hoping for some friction.

Dante’s hand came down on my butt, keeping it in place. “Don’t,” he said roughly, squeezing my cheek. I made a sound of protest, though it was difficult with his cock in my mouth.

Dante pulled out abruptly, hissing when my teeth graced his cock. He gripped a pillow and shoved it under my pelvis. Then he was behind me. He gripped my ass cheeks and his tip nudged my opening. “Fuck. You’re so wet, Valentina.” Without a warning, he slapped all the way into me, filling me completely. I gasped, arching up as pleasure and a trickle of pain shot through me. Dante stilled for a moment as he rubbed my butt and lower back. He leaned down until his chest was pressed against my back, pinning me beneath his weight. He braced himself on his elbows to either side of me. I could feel every inch of him. I couldn’t have moved even if I wanted to. I tilted my head to the side and found Dante’s lips for a hard kiss. He slid out of me slowly until only his tip was inside before thrusting back into me. Soon he established a fast hard rhythm. Every thrust of his cock made my nipples slide over the sheets, making me gasp from the added friction. His balls slapped my folds, sending lightning bolts of pleasure up to my clit.

Dante’s pants came faster. His chest was slick against my back. The sound of his thighs hitting my butt with every thrust filled the darkness, and mingled with my desperate moans and whimpers as I spiraled toward my second orgasm. I tried to hold it back, but Dante snuck his hand under me and flicked his thumb over my clit. “Come for me,” he whispered in my ear.

I shattered as pleasure shot through me in a torrent. Dante raised himself on his arm and really started pounding into me, harder and faster than ever before. I clawed at the sheets. He clamped his hands down on my hips and raised my butt higher as he thrust into me, his fingers digging almost painfully into my skin. I sunk my teeth into the pillow as I felt the treacherous signs of another orgasm rippling through me.

Dante thrust into me hard and let out a low groan, his fingers tensing against my hips. His erection expanded in my channel as he spilled into me and the fire in my belly raged through my body as I tumbled over the edge again. Dante collapsed on top of me, leaving open-mouthed kisses on my shoulder and neck as he whispered words too low for me to hear. I closed my eyes as my chest was trying to hammer its way out of my ribcage. I’d probably be sore tomorrow, but it had been worth it. I didn’t even care anymore that I hadn’t kept my promise to myself. Why should I deprave myself of a good time to punish Dante? I’d only be punishing myself.

Dante was getting heavy. I turned my head, hoping to breathe easier that way. I could ask him to get off me, but I knew the moment I did, he’d pull away again as he always did. I wanted to relish in our closeness for a little longer, even if it meant being crushed by his weight. He felt hot and strong, and pressed up like that it was hard to say where his body began and mine ended.

Dante raised his head and our lips met for another kiss, languid and unhurried, almost sweet, but then he rolled off of me. I turned around so I was facing him. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. It was too dark to make out his expression. I cautiously moved closer and rested my head on his chest. He tensed and I braced myself for his rejection. My own body stiffened in anticipation of the rebuke, but it never came. He relaxed, wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I finally dared to snuggle closer against him. I drew in a deep breath relishing in his warm scent that was becoming increasingly familiar; it was mixed with the musky aroma of sex. My hand came up to his stomach and I stroked him lightly. Was it the dark that made him more approachable? That made him forget who he was, who he wanted to be?