Page 61 of Gilded Princess

His hand leaves my neck and slides down to grip my hips, and with both hands, he lifts me up, placing me on his lap. A startled squeak escapes before I can stop it, but it quickly turns into a soft groan at the feel of his thick erection underneath me. I sink onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck, losing myself in the tingles radiating down my spine.

“Yo! You called me home, so here I am. Man, you’re never going to believe it, but I think I actually got stood up for the first time.” A man laughs, the sound self-depreciating.

It takes a moment for the voice to filter into my lusty fog. I pull back from Dante’s kiss-swollen lips, tilting my head to listen for more voices. I haven’t seen anyone else the entire time I’ve been here, and I don’t remember Matteo mentioning anyone else living here.

Someone’s rummaging around in the kitchen. The fridge opens and the clinking of glass jars and bottles filter into the living room.

“Who is that?” I look over his shoulder, keeping my voice quiet. Surprisingly, no fear dances along my spine. The fact that Dante makes me feel safe is both enlightening and heavy.

Dante tilts his head back with a sigh. “Matteo’s brother.”

“Bro, did you hear me? I said I got stood up by that chick I was telling you about. Damn, I thought you’d be out here laughing at my expense by now.”

My brows furrow as I look back at Dante. His mouth distracts me, my legs involuntarily squeezing against his hips. “Matteo has a brother?”

The hiss of a bottle opening pulls my attention from Dante. I crane my neck to look over the couch, but all I can see from here is the darkened living room and the single light on over the stove. I don’t know how long we’ve been locked away in here, but I think it should still be daylight out. Unless someone closed the blinds.

I spare a second to think of the ramifications if Matteo was in the kitchen right now. I wonder what his reaction would be to finding me straddling Dante, his best friend and the guy he put in charge of watching me.

I roll my hips and a strangled groan sounds behind closed lips but his gaze never leaves the place where our bodies are touching, separated by a few pieces of cotton. My mouth quirks up on one side. Yeah, I’d say he’s watching me alright.

Dante’s fingers flex against my waist. “Fuck,” he says on a sigh. He tilts his head forward and skims his lips against the column of my throat. “To be continued, yeah?”

I nod before he even finishes talking. Despite wanting to push boundaries, I don’t actually want to hurt anyone. And I have a feeling Matteo is more of a shoot-first-ask-questions-never kind of guy.

I open my mouth to reply, but before I utter a single syllable, the lights come on, lighting up the darkened room to nearly high noon. I close my eyes, tucking my face into Dante’s neck for a moment as white spots dance behind my closed lids.

“Damn.” Matteo’s brother whistles. “Bringing a chick back home to bag her on Matteo’s couch? I’m impressed.”

Dante grunts, sliding up and down my ribs in a distracting motion. “Fuck off.”

There’s something familiar about his voice, but it’s just outside of my reach. I pull back from Dante, blinking my eyes a few times to let them adjust to the bright light after being in the dark for so long.

I let my red hair shield my face from this newcomer—this brother I’d never heard of—as I feel the couch cushion depress next to me.

“She looks pretty from this angle, man. In what world do I get stood up on the same night you get lucky? Is there a full moon or something?”

Irritation coils around my limbs as anger holds me immobile. This guy sounds like a prick.

“C’mon, baby doll. Let me get a good look at you before my brother loses his shit on your boy here. He doesn’t like strangers in his house,” Matteo’s brother says with a click of his tongue.

Someone tugs on a lock of my hair, and the move is so reminiscent of playground politics that I forget my manners for a moment. Shrugging his hand off my hair, I roll my shoulder back and turn to face this mysterious brother I never heard about.

Time seems to freeze as I stare at a familiar face. My mouth drops open and a sudden dizziness blankets me. I shake my head to dislodge it, my eyes blinking overtime like one blink will magically change who’s sitting next to me.

I feel the weight of Dante’s stare on my face, but I can’t pull my gaze from the man in front of me.

“It’s you,” I breathe.

Chapter Twenty-Four

MADDIE

His brow scrunches and his mouth parts, but no words fall from his lips. Lips that I’ve tasted—lips that I want to feel again.

Shock tightens my throat as fate plays yet another unexpected hand.

“I . . . I don’t understand.”

---