Page 81 of Christmas Vows with the Devil

I start to protest at his doom and gloom. I try to scold him about even putting such a statement out into the universe, but he quiets me with a kiss. Gently, he guides me to the built-in shower bench and nudges me until my ass hits the cold marble.

“Dante, seriously,” I say, laser-focused on his statement. “Don’t talk like that … “

“Would you shut up and let me worship you?” he growls back at me. I huff, crossing my arms, but the look in his eyes is so hungry that all the anger drains out of me.

He nudges my feet apart, spreading my thighs, and kneeling before me. I open up for him, savoring the coolness of the marble mingling with the heat of the waterfall shower spray.

Dante’s hands glide up my body, cupping my breasts. His breath ghosts across my pussy, driving me wild. I moan in anticipation. No matter how many times I’m with him, it always feels incredible, like we were made for each other.

He dives between my thighs, hungrily devouring me. We both feel rushed tonight, stress and anticipation pulling our muscles taut and haunting our minds. I moan and whisper his name in encouragement, begging him to get me there.

“Yes, right there, just a little harder, please,” I instruct him. He moans, enjoying my pleasure and following my instructions. When he hits the right spot, my breath hitches and he steadies the rhythm of his tongue and fingers, bringing me to a mind-blowing orgasm.

I gasp for air, fanning myself, the shower water feeling too hot now. He sits beside me, trailing kisses across my shoulder, andup my neck. I take a second to collect my breath and swing my leg over, mounting him.

He panics for a second, the slippery marble sending us off-kilter. We lock eyes and crack up laughing, imagining a repeat of the events all those years ago. He grips my ass harder, steadying himself on the bench, and leans back against the cool wall.

“You’re not going to drop me this time,” I whisper in his ear as I slide down his length. We both moan in pleasure and I pause, enjoying the feeling. Slowly, I grind my hips, working my clit against him. “And you’re not going to die.”

“If you promise to do this to me every day for the rest of your life,” he gasps between moans, “I promise to come back from the dead.”

I laugh, low and deep, savoring the moment, the joy of being with Dante. Laughing with Dante. Fucking Dante. Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would happen again.

When he broke my heart six years ago, I shut that part of my life away. I put it into a little box, locked it up, and tucked it in the darkest recesses of my brain. For six years, I refused to speak his name.

If a thought involving him in any way popped into my brain, I’d immediately distract myself, forcing it away.What a miserable fucking existence that was.

I push the misery away and focus on the here and now. On my pleasure and how my skin feels gliding against his. On the dark, lusty look in his eyes and the rough, deep moans coming from his mouth.

I pick up my pace, grinding and slamming down on him more aggressively, desperate for release. His breathing is ragged, his eyes somewhere in the back of his head. He digs his fingers into my ass cheeks, helping me ride him with abandon.

“Gia, fuck,” he grunts, biting my shoulder. I moan as he showers the area with kisses afterward. “I’m almost there, baby, don’t stop.”

I work myself into a frenzy, our moans bouncing off the shower walls, driving me closer and closer. The steam clouds my vision and I grip onto his shoulders as we both reach our release. I ride out my orgasm slowly, savoring the delicious feeling.

Dante pulls me against his chest, stroking my back. He murmurs words of love and appreciation as I melt into him. I’m so exhausted, but in a good way now. It’s the kind of tired that’ll give me the deeply satisfied sleep I’ve been craving.

Once we’ve regained our energy, we shower quickly, lost in our own thoughts about tomorrow, the future, and what will come. Dante drags me to the bed, still half wet and we collapse on top of each other.

Instantly, I feel sleepy, my eyelids like heavy magnets being pulled together. He strokes my back, my hair, my cheeks. I’m lost in a peaceful haze, my body softening under his touch. Dante grabs his phone, setting the alarm for midnight and we drift off to sleep.

***

I wake with a start, reaching out for Dante. The bed on his side is empty, still warm from his body. I roll over, rubbing the sleep from my eyes to find him fully dressed, staring out the window.

“Dante?”

He spins slowly, coming toward me. The moonlight glints off his dark curls, his body outlined in pale light. I reach for him, drawing him closer. He covers my face in kisses, gently waking me.

“It’s almost time.”

I nod, pulling myself out of bed. I’m tired. But more than that, I’m ready. I haven’t seen my baby in days and it’s all because of some evil, old man who thinks he can play games with my family. Anger radiates through me at the thought and I pull on my clothes, trying to settle myself.

We creep down the darkened hallway, meeting Russo in the entryway. He nods at us, checking his weapons.

“Time’s up for Manzo,” he says, grinning down at me.

Chapter Thirty-Two

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