Toxic Love: A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance
Toxic Love: Chapter 34

Our week in the Hamptons turns into two, and then three. Three weeks in a ten-thousand square foot home on the beach, constantly having the most incredible sex ever?

Pretty sweet.

That said, I do miss my New York life, at times. Gabriel, Alistair, Bianca, and Taylor have all come to visit. And, Pam, bless her, keeps sending those smoothies out like clockwork. Still, it’s not the same.

The not-so-sweet part is that Charles has used what happened at the dinner party to go back on his word about Maeve moving in with Gabriel. He’s been stalling ever since, blaming the “unsafe atmosphere” around my brothers for not allowing the move to go as promised. Which is obviously complete horseshit.

If my grandfather gives a single shit about his own daughter, it pales in comparison to the shit he gives about power and using her to somehow gain more of it.

Three weeks after we get out here, I’m sitting in the library reading a book when there’s a knock on the doorframe.

I grin without even looking up.

“Oh, good, it’s the pool boy with my daiquiri and fresh sunscreen.”

“I think you’re overdressed for a pool.”

I giggle as he walks over and plucks the book from my hands, and the fact that he slips a bookmark into it before he tosses it to the side is just…yeah.

Chef’s kiss.

Dante leans down to kiss me softly. His tongue explores my mouth, his hand tangling in my hair. When he finally pulls away, I’m breathless and aching for him.

“What was all that for?” I breathe.

“That,” he murmurs, “was me telling you to get dressed. We’re going out.”

I blink. “I’m sorry, what?”

For the last three weeks, we haven’t left the grounds of this house at all, with the threat of what happened with the arsenic poisoning hanging over us and all. And now we’re going out?

Dante smiles a thin, grim smile. My brow furrows.

“Wait, what is it?”

“They found the guy.”

My eyes widen. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Ken Freeman. He’s a nobody. A rich trust fund drug addict. But his first cousin was Lance Hammond.” When my brow furrows, his darkens. “Lance was in Apex Club. Ken was hoping to get revenge for his death, I guess.”

I shudder, my stomach knotting.

“Oh, and he’s dead, by the way.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“Ken OD’ed on fentanyl-laced cocaine. A concerned neighbor called the cops, and they found arsenic, rubber gloves and chemistry equipment, plus copied keys to Gabriel’s back basement door in his apartment. Apparently, your brother lost his keys a few weeks ago for half a day before his dry cleaner found them in one of his trouser pockets.”

My head spins. “Wait, so…it’s over?”

He grins as he leans down to kiss me. “Yeah, little hurricane,” he murmurs. “It’s over. So we’re going out. Whatever you want to do, we’ll⁠—”

“Dancing,” I blurt. “I want to go dancing.”

That awful night ruined clubs for me. But then Dante happened. The man broke down my walls and pulled me out of my own head, showing me things I’d forgotten that I used to enjoy.

Like dancing at clubs.

Dante arches a brow. “I was thinking dinner at a Michelin spot, or⁠—”

“You said anything,” I grin. “I pick dancing. I mean, unless you’re scared of sucking at it and⁠—”

I giggle as he kisses me hard. “Get your dancing shoes on.”

If you don’t know, the Hamptons are a total capital-S Scene. Manhattan trust fund brats, finance bros, celebrities, heirs to Fortune 500 companies, and the usual socialite crowd. Which is pretty much everything I hate, but it does mean the sleepy little towns that dot the coast of Long Island that together make “The Hamptons” are littered with five-star places for dinner and drinks, and some fantastic dance clubs.

Dante and I—him in gunmetal gray pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, me in a short black dress that flares out at the hips—end up at the Beachsider. The crowd looks a little less douchey than the usual, and it turns out that Dante knows one of the guys on the door.

“That’s Leo,” he murmurs in my ear after the guy waves us through the line and inside. “He works security at Venom when he’s not here.”

I smirk as we step into the steamy heat and neon-tinged darkness. “I wonder if anyone else from Venom will recognize you.”

“Doubt it. No one aside from my staff and a few select VIPs know my face. When I’m on the floor at Venom, my mask is always on, just like everyone else.”

I turn to eye him. “Do you do that a lot? Browse the scene out on the main floor?”

His lips curl into a smirk and his hand lands on my ass, yanking me close. “Was that your subtle way of asking—again, I might add—if I participate in public sex at my own club? You know I don’t.”

My breath catches as I sink against his chest. “What if it was me?”

A growl rumbles in his throat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what if it was you and me out on the floor of Venom, with masks on, but nothing else? Would you…participate then?”

“Just you and me?”

I nod.

“And if I could gouge the eyes out afterward of every single man who saw you like that?”

I grin. “Sure.”

Dante’s brow arches. “I’m joking.”

“Are you?”

Something dangerous flickers in his eyes. “Maybe. If you wanted that⁠—”

“I’m not saying I⁠—”

“If it was,” he growls. “I want you to always be able to explore what you want to explore about yourself.”

“Oh, good!” I grin. “So, when we get back to New York, I’d love to explore having three strangers totally bang⁠—”

I gasp as his hand clamps onto my jaw, tilting my face up to his. His eyes burn hotly as they blaze into mine, sending a heated throb through my core.

“Careful, little hurricane,” he growls.

I tremble. “Of you?”

“Of getting those three strangers put into the uncomfortable position of having their legs and dicks cut off so that they can watch helplessly as I fuck you over the pool of their blood.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why is that so fucked up and scary, and why does it make me so wet?

“There’s a chance I have…issues,” Dante grunts, his lips curling slightly.

“There’s also a chance that was super-hot,” I murmur quietly, gazing up at him.

“Let’s dance.”

Dante leads me onto the floor and into the swirl of undulating, gyrating bodies. We grind together, hot and sweaty in no time—from the music, and the crowd, and the fact that his hands are all over me.

“I’m going to grab a drink!” I yell over the music. “Want anything?”

“Whiskey,” he growls into my ear, pulling me against the thick bulge in his pants so I can feel it throbbing against my lower stomach. “Neat.”

“So, just in a glass?”

“Or off your skin.”

I grin as our eyes lock. Then I slip away and meander my way through the crowd to the bar. I grab Dante’s whiskey and an easy vodka soda for myself. I’m turning to go replace Dante again when a figure steps in front of me.

“How’re we doing tonight?”

The man is tall, with broad shoulders, and yet he looks…soft. Pampered. Weak. And way too primped and pretty, like he spent more time than anyone else in the club in front of the mirror earlier.

“We’re…doing fine?” I smile uncertainly at him.

“Buy you a drink?”

I lift the two in my hands. “I’m good, but thank you. Enjoy your⁠—”

“Hang on.”

I stiffen when his hand lands on my hip as I try and move past him.

“We just met, how about we talk for a second at least.”

“Let go of me.”

The man chuckles. “I like your attitude,” he grins. “Feisty.”

“Let go of me or you’re going to replace out how feisty, buddy.”

He laughs. Suddenly, I jolt, tensing everywhere when he yanks me against his soft body.

“It’s loud as fuck in here, gorgeous. Let’s go replace someplace quiet⁠—”

“I’m not interested. Now let. Go. Of⁠—”

He pounces in an instant with a drunken lurch. His hand slides to grab my ass as he drops his face, like he’s going to kiss me.

…Which is exactly when something shoves him away with the force of a freight train.

Dante snarls and sends the man flying away from me, tripping over his own feet and landing on the ground. The crowd parts around him as Dante storms over and kicks him hard in the stomach, then drops to his knees astride the man’s chest and starts to hit him in the face, over and over.

…There might be something very wrong with me that I replace the visual of my husband “defending my honor” against a handsy asshole, with his hands bloodied, insanely hot.

A big man dressed in black comes rushing over. I realize he’s the same guy who knows Dante—Leo—at the same time that Leo realizes the guy dishing out the beating is his at-times boss.

Dante stands and Leo yanks the asshole off the floor by his collar.

“We’ve got an empty storage room downstairs, Mr. Sartorre,” Leo murmurs, glancing at Dante. “If you want me to bring him down there for a little more privacy.”

Dante’s eyes narrow as he walks up to the bloodied, drunk, douchebag.

“What’s your name.”

“Carl!” The guy sobs through bloody lips. “Please…”

“Carl, that woman you just put your fucking hands on is my wife.”

The man goes pale.

“But tonight’s your lucky night, Carl. You see, I’d rather spend my time fucking my wife than breaking every bone in your body. But I will say this.”

He grabs Carl’s collar and yanks him closer.

“If I ever see you again—here or anywhere else—I’ll fucking kill you. Understand?”

Carl nods pathetically.

“Get him the fuck out of here, Leo.”

‘You got it, Mr. Sartorre.”

I rush into Dante’s arms as Leo drags a sniveling Carl away.

“Your hands…” I gasp taking them in mine. “Let me get you some ice⁠—”

Instead, Dante suddenly grabs me and yanks me after him as he dives back into the crowd. In the very center of the mass of swirling, grinding humanity, he spins me around quickly and then tugs me back against him. My ass squirms against his bulge, and I whimper softly.

Fuck, he’s hard as steel.

His hands skim up and down my sides, teasing the sides of my breasts and grabbing my hips. His cock throbs against my ass, and suddenly, his hand slips under the front hem of my dress.

“Dante…”

He just bites down my neck from behind, making me moan as his fingers tease the edge of my panties. They push down lower under the lace, cupping my bare pussy as I start to tremble and shake.

His fingers roll over my clit and then delve deeper, curling as he sinks two thick digits into my eager pussy.

I. Am. Soaked.

“You’d better be wet for me, not him,” he rasps dangerously into my ear, like a knife’s edge teasing over tender flesh.

I moan as he starts to finger me hard and fast, his palm grinding against my clit. I turn my head, my eyes locking with his in the neon darkness.

“I’m always wet for you…”

His mouth crushes to mine as his fingers stroke in and out of me. My legs shake and buckle, my body writhing under his touch. His other hand slips between us. Then suddenly there’s a tug, and his hand is gripping the back of my dress and yanking it up over my ass.

“Dante!” I yelp, my heart hammering as I feel his hand on my bare ass.

Something else presses hotly against my ass, and my eyes bulge.

Holy fuck, is he for real?

Dante’s thick, swollen cock slips between my thighs from behind. I can feel him bend his knees, angling his cock up as his hand pulls my panties to the side.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit…

“Never forget whose you are.”

He sinks into me with one powerful thrust. I almost scream before I clamp a hand over my own mouth, Dante’s fat cock driving into me from behind.

It’s almost too much: too much sensation. Too much danger. Too much risk and adrenaline. But as he keeps fucking me in time to the music, with his hands on my hips and my dress mostly covering us, it just looks like we’re dancing extra dirty with each other.

Not a single person who saw us right now would imagine that every inch of this man’s cock is rammed deep in my dripping wet pussy.

The beat picks up, and so does his pace. He pounds into me savagely and aggressively, his hands roaming all over my body as I arch my back and push my ass back against him. He cups one of my breasts, pinching the nipple roughly through my dress just as his gorgeous cock sinks balls-deep.

All of it slams together: the crowd, the music, the public nature of this, and the thrill of being caught or seen. And of course, him, and his god-like ability to fuck me exactly how I need it.

And suddenly I’m shattering for him.

Just as I cry out, Dante grabs a fistful of my hair and twists my face around. His mouth slams to mine, swallowing my moans and cries of pleasure as he fucks into me over and over. I’m still coming when I feel his thick cock swell even more. He sinks deep, and I moan into his mouth when I feel the hot, thick spurts of cum spill into me.

We stay like that, swaying and dancing to the music—lip-to-lip, bodies pressed together, his dick still buried inside of me.

Then we do it all over again.