The restaurant is filled with powerful people dressed in tailored tuxes and luxurious gowns, the tension so thick it hovers like a dark cloud above. Family dinners are the mob version of prom night. I’m perched on a velvet stool sipping my second mocktail, my jaw sore from the smile I’ve been faking all night long.
I swirl my drink, eyes drifting toward the show across the room. Linda is trying to save face, floundering like a fish out of water, all designer sparkle and fake indignation. Watching her struggle is worth every awkward handshake I’ve had to survive tonight.
A thick Russian accent cuts in behind me. “Vodka. Neat.”
I glance sideways. He’s tall with broad shoulders, dressed in a black suit with sharp lines. His eyes are blank and cold. Definitely Bratva. He raises his drink at me. “Good evening. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
I give him a smooth smile. “Eva Smith.”
“Smith?” he echoes, suspicious. “You look very familiar.”
My stomach knots and I laugh lightly, nodding at his suit. “I think I’d remember a guy who wears Armani like it’s stitched into his DNA,” I say, trying to play it off.
He chuckles. “Flattery coming from a woman like you is always dangerous.”
I nod and take a sip of my drink, holding his gaze defiantly.
His smile fades as he says, “These are strange times. Peace came at a cost.”
“Doesn’t it always?”
Dante appears, his hand sliding around my waist like a silent claim. The Russian nods. “Bellacino.”
“Volkov.” Dante’s voice is pure steel.
Volkov dips his head and disappears into the crowd. Dante watches him go, his jaw set.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Ghosts from the past,” he mutters. Then, without warning, he pulls me into a kiss that leaves everyone around us staring. It’s fierce and possessive. The kind of kiss meant to deliver a statement. I melt into it, a spark of liquid heat pooling between my thighs.
“You’re mine,” he whispers into my ear.
“You think so?”
His gaze sharpens, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I know so.”
His intensity tugs at something deep inside me. But tonight, after all the drama—and Linda’s public unraveling—I want control. A wicked idea sparks.
I press a hand to his chest as I murmur, “I’m calling the shots tonight.”
A flicker of desire lights up in his eyes. He grins.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We arrive at the estate and rush up the spiral staircase. We enter our suite, closing the massive double doors with a soft click, allowing the soft hush of the mansion to wrap around us like a velvet curtain. Moonlight pours in through the tall windows, bathing the room in a sensuous silver glow.
I approach him seductively, pushing off his suit jacket and tossing it aside before reaching for his belt. Undoing it slowly, I open his slacks, yanking them down and letting them fall to the floor. I unbutton his shirt quickly and shove it off his shoulders, revealing his gorgeous torso. Trailing soft kisses along his chest, I work my way down his torso until I reach the waistband of his boxer briefs. I tug at it with my teeth, my insinuation clear, then lick my way back up his stomach until I reach his mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip for a brief second.
“Lie back on the bed,” I purr as I pull down the straps of my gown, letting it drop to the floor, revealing the black, lacy satin bra and matching panties underneath. “It’s time you see what this girl can do.”
He yanks down his underwear, his enormous erection standing at attention, then strides over to the bed. He reclines against the pillows, arms overhead, his eyes looking me up and down in pure delight. The sight of his delicious cock, rock hard and just for me, makes my pussy ache with need.
“You think I don’t already know what you can do?”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
I’m fueled by adrenaline, power, and a bit of a need for revenge. Tonight, I want him at my mercy—just for a little while.
I unhook my bra, my breasts tumbling out as it falls to the floor. l climb onto the bed and straddle his thighs. He watches me intently, heated desire blazing in his eyes, his chest rising and falling quicker with excitement.
I plant my palms on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath. He mimics the move by placing his hands over my breasts and teasing my nipples, and a thrill races up my spine. I lower my head, pressing a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat.
“Still think you’re in charge?” I whisper as I sit upright.
His hands slide to my hips, fingers digging in possessively. “Prove me wrong,” he dares.
The raw hunger in his gaze sends a rush of need through me. With every breath, my confidence grows. I lean forward again, kissing him hard, devouring the low groan vibrating in his throat. I pull back, grinning at him.
“Ready?”
“Always.”
I move up and straddle his hips, teasing myself against him for a moment, the friction between the satin of the panties and his hard cock sparking delicious jolts of sensation. I pull them aside and slowly slide down, my soaked pussy taking him in deep and easy, all the way to the hilt.
The pleasure is instantaneous, rolling through me and making me gasp. My head falls forward and I close my eyes, hair tumbling over my shoulders as I start to rock my hips.
Dante’s fingers grip my thighs. “Christ,” he mutters. “You feel so fucking good.”
I pick up the pace, setting a deliberate rhythm that makes my nerves sing. My hands rest on his chest for balance, nails scraping lightly, leaving faint red marks as I ride him. Each thrust sends waves of heat radiating through me, building a tension in my belly that demands more.
He hisses in pleasure, trying to steady me, but I push his hands away.
“Uh-uh,” I say breathlessly, smirking down at him. “I’m in control tonight.”
The corners of his mouth twitch into a knowing grin. “You’re killing me,” he says, but he relents, letting me set the pace.
I grind deeper, faster, chasing the pulsing sensation coiling in my core. My mind blanks with pure ecstasy—my moans echoing off the walls from the sensation of his hands when he can’t resist touching me. My thighs quiver with the effort, but the mounting pleasure is too addictive to slow down.
He groans. “Eva, you’re so damn perfect.”
“Keep talking,” I tease, drawing a breathless laugh from him.
He growls as his fingers dig into my hips. “Fuck these,” he says, then grasps my panties and rips them off. I gasp in surprise, the move turning me on even more. His hands back on my hips, I let him guide me as I grind against him, my body pulsing. He reaches around, grabbing my ass and squeezing hard before giving it a firm slap.
The tension in me tightens like a wire, strung to the breaking point. My head tilts back, a cry escaping my lips as the pleasure slams through me in a sudden, blinding wave. I ride out the orgasm, legs shaking, hands fisted in the sheets. Stars dance behind my closed eyelids.
Dante follows seconds later, letting out a harsh groan that vibrates through my bones. I watch him unravel beneath me, his eyes squeezed shut, raw pleasure etched into every line of his face. His cock throbs as he drains himself inside, his warmth spreading through me.
Seeing Dante Bellacino come undone beneath me is nothing short of intoxicating.
We collapse onto the bed, a tangled mess of limbs and sweat-slicked skin. My lungs burn, heart thudding like I’ve just sprinted a marathon. He pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me in the most intimate way, making me feel protected and cared for.
I rest my cheek on his shoulder, smiling. “So,” I manage between panting breaths, “Who’s in charge now?”
He laughs, low and satisfied. “I’ll let you think it’s you tonight.” He presses a soft kiss to my temple. “You’re something else.”
For a while, we just lay there, the quiet hum of the night surrounding us. My nerves still tingle, aftershocks pulsing through my muscles. He shifts, and I wince at the lingering ache in my thighs, but it’s the best kind of ache, reminding me how alive I feel with him.
I dare to break the silence. “You know, we keep talking about how complicated everything is. But in moments like this, it feels worth it.” My tone is light and laced with affection.
He sighs, satisfied, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “It is worth it. Even if I still want to lock you away so no one can discover your background, your father’s legacy.”
I take a deep breath. The truth of my real identity, the Petrov name, weighs heavy. But I push it aside.
“We’ll handle it if it comes to that,” I say, surprising myself with the confidence in my voice.
He studies me for a moment, then smiles softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Yeah. We will.”
Our bodies relax into the mattress, exhaustion pulling at both of us. The day was long, the night was intense. I’m wrapped in Dante’s arms, his skin warm against mine, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the heady trace of sex. My eyes drift shut, and I let the steady drum of his heartbeat lull me to sleep.
