Page 50 of Rescued By the Mafia

Dante growled again and removed his hand from her leg, reaching up to gently wipe away her tears. “That’s what he’s paid to do, honey,” he said. “I saw him on my way in. He’ll be fine.” Dante pressed another, gentler, kiss to her lips. “I’m still going to give him a fucking raise.”

A silly, short-lived, laugh bubbled up her throat and Iris held him tighter. “I was so scared,” she whispered. Not because he needed to hear it, but because she realized she’d been holding the words in like some kind of secret. “Is it over?”

He stepped away from the wall. “For tonight, yes.” With a gentle tug, he encouraged her to unhook her legs from his hips and lowered her to her feet between his body and the work desk with the sleeping monitors. Then he turned her around, putting her back to him, and rested his hands on her hips as he brought his lips to her ear. “Now, I need you to be a good girl and bend over.”

The heat he’d roused with his kiss suddenly lashed through her and Iris gasped. “Here?”

His grip tightened. “This is our house, honey. We can fuck wherever the hell we want, and I want your sweet pussy right fucking now.”

Iris let out a moan and set to work unfastening her pants, but Dante stopped her as soon as the button was loose.

“I can do that,” he said, breath hot on her skin. “I just want your ass up against my groin, or I’ll make you come all over these new pants.”

She licked her lips, hesitated a moment, and bent her body forward. The angle pressed her butt solidly against his erection and she bit her lip as she tried to find purchase on the desk. It was a smooth surface, with minimal clutter. She was left to stretch her arms out and grab hold of the edge.

Dante stroked his hands up and down her sides, rustling her shirt, then reached around and lowered the zipper of her jeans. His hand slipped inside and his fingers dove between her folds, the resulting squelch like background music to his full-bodied hum of approval. He worked his fingers for several seconds, rocking his pelvis against her ass, then focused in on her clit long enough for Iris to forget where they were.

Then his hand retreated, leaving her breathless and on the brink of release. A moment later her pants and panties were tugged down her hips, one by one her feet were lifted from her shoes, until she found herself bare-assed and bent over the desk.

Dante took both cheeks in his hands, palming them as he let out a guttural groan. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he said. One hand returned to her aching center and teased over her lips, dipping past her opening only slightly. “So sweet and wet for me. You like the way I touch you, Snapdragon?”

Iris licked her lips, wishing she could touch him, too. “Yes, sir.”

His finger stretched up and rolled over her clit. “Good girl.” Pleasure coiled in her belly and her knees threatened to give out, but he didn’t quite let her fly. Again, his hand retreated, this time sliding back up and up, until she could feel his thumbs spreading her cheeks. “Have you ever had anal?”

She held tighter to the table. “Not willingly.”

He relaxed his grip and let his hands slide up to her hips, bending over her. He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder. “I would never force you.”

The unwanted tension eased and she attempted to smile over her shoulder for him. “I trust you.” She wouldn’t have allowed herself to be in this position if she didn’t, wouldn’t have spent half an hour worried about him if she couldn’t.

He growled low in his throat, leaned forward enough that his erection rubbed against her, and angled a sloppy kiss over her lips. It was short, wet, and left both of them breathing hard when he straightened. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand up,” he said. She felt him push against her entrance. “Then I’m going to take you upstairs to our bedroom and continue fucking you until you beg me to stop.” He took her hips in a tight grip and thrust himself deep inside her.

Iris gasped, instinctively grinding against him. Her mind scrambled, his name rolling off her tongue as he pounded into her. There was something a little more feral about their connection this time. She didn’t know if it had to do with the chaos from minutes earlier or whatever he’d dealt with before that had happened—or both—but she couldn’t deny she was enjoying the result. The way he held her in an almost bruising grip and the desperation with which he took her.

It was raw, emotionally, so much more than their mere lack of protection.

Dante swept his hands up, beneath her shirt, and shoved her bra out of his way in order to catch her breasts. His hips never faltered, his cock filling her body as he tweaked her nipples. “Come for me, honey. Milk my dick and scream my name and take me over with you.”

Iris shuddered, her body responding to his command with enthusiasm, and his name ripped from her lungs as her inner muscles clamped down on his cock. His thumbs rolled across her nipples and he ground into her, and Iris sank to her shoulders as her body succumbed to the waves of ecstasy crashing through her.

Dante rocked with her, groaning, and finally burst inside her. His hands left her chest as his body bent over hers and he braced himself on the desk, breath hot on her neck.

Iris blinked her eyes open, not having realized they’d fallen shut, and found herself staring at his larger hand splayed just on the outside of her arm. Not actually touching her skin, yet somehow the sight emphasized to her the closeness she felt in her chest. A smile tipped her lips. “Dante…”

He rumbled and pressed a kiss behind her ear. “I’m trying not to just pick you up and dump you on that futon over there,” he said. “You’re addicting, Snapdragon.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, lightly. “I want to go up to bed,” she said quietly. “I want to touch you, too.”

He angled more kisses down the back of her throat, then straightened and stepped back. “I won’t argue with that.”

She let herself stand upright, and slipped her panties back into place because she couldn’t possibly walk through the house with her lady parts exposed. As she watched Dante gather the rest of her things, his pants refastened, the logical part of her brain reengaged and reminded her that there were important things she should be asking him. She’d been locked away, oblivious to the happenings beyond the panic room, and still all she knew was that the people currently closest to her were okay.

She should ask.

But something told her that if Dante had pressing information to share—positive or negative—he would have found a moment to share it at least before they landed back in bed. So when he made no attempt to initiate that sort of conversation before pulling her back into his arms, Iris allowed herself to forget for a little longer. Because what she really needed was to nurture the warm, almost frightening and yet entirely thrilling feeling that had taken root in her chest.

“My team scoured the storage unit last night,” Mikey said after Romeo had taken the seat beside him on the leather sofa in Dante’s office. “I think we found a clue as to where Bishop might be holding his hostages.”

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