Page 19 of His Bride

My brow furrows in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

His hands settle on my hips, turning me to face him fully. “Let me taste you,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Just a little appetizer before dinner.”

My heart thunders in my chest as I struggle to come up with a reply. “I… I don’t know if we should—”

Before I can finish my thought, Dante drops to his knees in front of me. My eyes widen in shock as his fingers hook into the waistband of my panties.

“Dante, what are you—”

In one swift motion, he pushes the lace aside, exposing me to his heated gaze. I gasp, my legs trembling as I struggle to stay upright.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, his breath hot against my sensitive skin.

My mind races, torn between desire and propriety. We should be leaving, not… this. But as Dante’s fingers ghost along my inner thigh, all thoughts of dinner fade away.

His tongue finds me, hot and insistent. I gasp, fingers gripping his shoulders for support. Dante’s hands slide up my thighs, anchoring me as he explores with deliberate strokes.

“Please,” I breathe, heat blooming through my body.

Dante hums against me, the vibration sending shivers up my spine. My hips rock involuntarily, chasing the sensation. He tightens his grip, holding me in place as he increases his pace.

I bite my lip, fighting back a moan. The pleasure builds, coiling tighter with each swipe of his tongue. My legs tremble, threatening to give out.

“Dante,” I whimper, “I can’t… I’m going to…”

He redoubles his efforts, one hand sliding up to cup my breast through the thin lace of my bra. The dual sensations push me over the edge. I cry out, waves of ecstasy washing over me as I shatter.

Dante stands, pulling me into a deep kiss. I taste myself on his lips, a heady mix of salt and musk. When he pulls back, a smug smile plays across his face.

“Now,” he says, voice husky, “finish getting dressed. We wouldn’t want to keep the family waiting.”

I nod dumbly, still drunk from my release. As I stumble towards the closet, Dante’s low chuckle follows me.

Twenty minutes later, we’re in the car. The leather seats feel cool against my flushed skin. Dante’s hand rests possessively on my thigh as he navigates the winding roads leading to his brother’s estate.

My heart pounds as we approach the Rossi mansion. The iron gates loom before us, intricate and foreboding. They swing open silently, swallowing us into the estate’s shadowy embrace.

I swallow hard. “Dante, I…”

He squeezes my thigh. “Breathe, cara. They’re just people.”

People who could have me killed with a snap of their fingers, I think, but don’t say.

The car crunches to a stop on the gravel drive. Dante’s at my door in an instant, offering his hand. I take it, willing my legs not to shake as I step out.

The house before us is a fortress of stone and secrets. Dark windows stare down like judging eyes. I shiver, not entirely from the evening chill.

“Ready?” Dante looks at me, his eyes studying my face.

I nod, not trusting my voice. He leads me forward, his hand a steady pressure at the small of my back.

The massive front door swings open before we reach it. Dante’s brother and wife stand framed in the entryway, their postures radiating authority.

“Carmine, Lucia,” Dante greets them, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. “May I present my wife, Adriana.”

Carmine’s grey eyes bore into me, cold and calculating. “Welcome to our home, Adriana.”

Lucia’s smile is warmer, but no less predatory. “We’ve been so looking forward to getting to know you better, dear.”

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