Page 69 of The Scandal Behind The Italian’s Wedding

She smiled and smoothed her hands over the tight, emerald green dress she was wearing. “Except, clearly you do take orders. Because here you are.”

“A coincidence. I managed to finish everything on time. Why did you make dinner?”

“Because I wanted to... On our wedding night we didn’t have dinner together. And I would like to have dinner together. It’s different now that we’re here. We are making a home together. The island was... Something else. It was removed from this. From reality. And here we are. Here we are together. This is our life. Isabella is going to legally be our daughter soon. Dante, I’m happy.”

He raised his dark brows. “I’m glad.”

“Are you?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I am as I ever am.”

“What does that mean?”

“What did you fix?”

She noted he didn’t answer, but she went ahead and let him redirect.

“Steak,” she said. She waved her hand toward the table.

He cast a glance at it. “Let’s eat.”

They went over to the table, and Minerva scampered after him, moving to sit across from him. He was being as opaque and maddening as he’d been the night before.

They started to eat in silence. Minerva was feeling frustrated. But, she wasn’t going to say anything. She had a feeling that he was doing all of this by design, she just couldn’t work out why.

He seemed to enjoy dinner, and when it was done, she served dessert.

Chocolate lava cake.

She held it out to him, and her heart was pounding. It reminded her of that night on the island. When he had offered cake to her. When she had realized that more than the dessert was a temptation when it came to Dante. He didn’t seem to remember that. Didn’t seem to get the reference that was happening here at all.

Well. She could fix that.

She stood from her seat and unzipped her dress, letting the top fall down, then letting the rest of it fall along with it. Then she walked over to where he was sitting, completely naked except for her high heels.

“There is a second offering for dessert.”

He looked up at her, and he pushed the cake into the center of the table. “I think I’ll have that now,” he said.

“Not yet,” she said.

She leaned forward and unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it down his shoulders. He stood, and she began to work at the belt on his pants, pushing them down his legs. And then, she sank to her knees before him.

“Minerva,” he said, his voice rough.

But she ignored the warning in his tone. Ignored it completely as she leaned forward and let her tongue dart out, tasting him. Taking him into her mouth.

He groaned, fisting her hair in his hand, holding her steady as she began to pleasure him.

Her position was submissive, to be sure, but he was the one who was shaking beneath her attentions.

It was exhilarating. Doing to him what he’d done to her so many times. But she hadn’t been brave enough to do this. Not before. Not because she didn’t think she would like it but because she was afraid he would compare with other women and find her wanting. But she finally understood.

Experience didn’t matter. Because no other woman could bring to the table what she did, here and now. It was their connection. And that was why he was afraid.

He was pulling away from her because everything in the two of them was drawing them to each other. There was no denying it. There was no escaping it. No matter what he thought. She curved her hand around his shaft, stroking him in time as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth.

“Minerva,” he growled. “Enough.” She did not obey. But then, he pulled on her hair, and she had no choice but to go with him.

---