I wake a short while later when I hear the door opening and see Dante stepping in.
“You okay?” he asks as he walks over to the bed. He’s shed his suit jacket and tie, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned, crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up.
I sit up and nod, rubbing my eyes. “About as okay as I can be, considering.”
He brushes the back of his hand gently against my cheek, flicking his gaze to my belly. “Are you feeling alright? Any nausea?”
I shake my head. “No nausea, thankfully. I’m actually kind of craving something sweet, but that’s nothing new.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I blink. “What? Where are you going?”
“I forgot something,” he says, striding toward the door.
I get up and wander over to the window, the cool glass beneath my fingertips as I lean forward and look out over the sprawling estate. The moonlight hits the dimly lit garden just right, bathing everything in silver and soft shadows.
It’s breathtaking.
After a few moments, the door opens again. I turn to see Dante holding a bowl, a silver fork resting neatly on top. I’d know that creamy, coffee-scented goodness anywhere.
“Tiramisu?” I raise a brow. “Seriously?”
“My mother always keeps a stash,” he tells me with a smile.
“Thank you,” I reply. “It looks delicious.”
“Dig in.”
I grin and sink onto the bed, taking the fork and diving in. The first bite hits my tongue and I moan, full-on food-gasm style. “Oh my god. This is so good it feels like a crime.”
“We can get you anything you want,” he says, stepping closer, making my pulse skip. “Ice cream, pastries, pickles. Even if it’s three in the morning. You name it, it’s yours.”
I glance up at him, my heart melting. “Careful, Bellacino. You’re gonna make me fall harder.”
He doesn’t flinch. “Good.”
The sweetness of it hits me harder than the tiramisu. I lean into him, resting my cheek against his chest. His heartbeat thuds steadily beneath my ear, strong and grounding.
We sit in silence for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can truly breathe.
“Thank you,” I whisper, letting my eyes drift shut. “For letting me stay here. For keeping me safe. For… everything.”
His breath stutters as he tucks his chin over the top of my head. “I’d do anything for you, Eva.” His voice is quiet but resolute. “For both of you.”
My throat tightens at the reference to our baby. “You keep saying that, but I still can’t quite believe it.”
He pulls back slightly, his gaze locking onto mine, intense and unwavering. “Let me prove it to you every day.” His eyes flick over my face, searching. “I know you’re scared, but I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
He takes the bowl from my hands and sets it on the nightstand, then dips his head and kisses me. It’s soft and tentative at first, feeling almost like an apology. But then it deepens, turning into something I can’t resist, something that melts me every time.
I exhale against his mouth, sliding my arms up around his neck. He tastes of lingering whiskey—he must have had some to calm his nerves—and something inherently him. My pulse speeds up, the day’s stress morphing into a sudden, desperate need to be closer to him, to lose myself in him.
He seems to sense it, guiding me backward until I’m laying down. We break apart for the briefest moment, my breath catching as I stare into his eyes. They’re dark and hungry, reflecting the same longing I feel pounding through my veins.
“You sure?” he murmurs, fingers trailing down my arm. “After everything…”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I want this. I want you,” I admit, cheeks flushing at my own candor. “I need to forget about Linda, Luca, the bullet, the break-ins, and everything else. If only for a little while.”
He smiles softly, understanding written plainly across his features. “Then forget,” he whispers. “I’ll help you.”
His hands slide under the hem of my sweater, skimming over my skin. A rush of warmth follows his touch, and I let out a longing sigh. He moves over me, bracing on his forearms, careful not to place too much pressure on my body, both of us aware I’m carrying something priceless.
I pull him down for another kiss, this time more urgent. My fingers slip through his hair, curling around the nape of his neck, and he groans softly, lips parting against mine. Each brush of his mouth sets off sparks beneath my skin, a reminder of how perfectly we fit together.
He shifts his weight, and I feel the gentle press of his body against mine. It’s reassuring and electric all at once, a spark that travels from my toes up through every nerve in my body. Our kisses grow more heated, more frantic, as though we’re both trying to burn away the stress of the day.
Soon, our clothes are in a haphazard pile on the floor. Pillows go flying as we shift toward the center, our bodies entangled in a fury of kisses and frantic touches.
He takes his time exploring my skin, trailing kisses down my neck and across my collarbone, making my breath hitch and my nails dig into his shoulders. I don’t hold back when his mouth finds a particularly sensitive spot near my collarbone. He glances up, lips curved in a satisfied smile.
“Relax,” he whispers. “Let me take care of you.”
He captures my mouth in another deep kiss. My legs part instinctively, welcoming the warm press of him. Each brush of his lips sparks a sweet ache between my thighs, the one only he can satisfy. My nails graze his back, the tension in me coiling tighter with every passing second.
“Tell me if I’m going too deep or too fast. If anything hurts.”
I grin. “I’ll let you know.”
A lustful groan escapes him as he drops kisses along my throat, down to the slope of my breast. The sensation makes me gasp, and I arch into him. He pulls down my bra, bringing his mouth to my nipple, gently sucking and licking it. I help him out, reaching back and undoing the clasp then pulling the straps down my shoulders.
He takes his time, his hands exploring every curve, every softness. At first, his touch is almost too gentle, like he’s afraid I’ll break. But I patiently guide him, moaning and encouraging him. The tension builds into a slow burn, and my fingers grip the sheets tightly.
His kisses begin to head southward, and my entire body shivers in anticipation, every nerve ending alive and waiting. His lips skim the inside of my thigh, and my breath catches.
“Dante,” I murmur, “Stop teasing.”
His smile is dark and wolflike. “You like bossing me around now?”
“Only when you deserve it.”
He laughs softly then shifts lower, his hands spreading my lips. I can feel the heat of his breath before his mouth touches me, and when it does…
“Oh, god,” I gasp, head tipping back.
He’s patient but thorough, like he’s memorizing me all over again. Tongue soft and teasing at first, then firm, steady strokes. My fingers slide into his hair in an attempt to guide him, but one of his hands slides up, holding me in place, firm and possessive.
His tongue dances over my clit, a finger sliding into me and curling in the way that drives me wild. I’m soaked, bucking my hips against his mouth.
I moan, low and helpless, and his response mirrors mine, dark and hungry. The sound vibrates against me, sending sparks down my spine.
I don’t hold back. I grind my pussy into his face, fingers buried in his hair, hips rocking shamelessly as the pressure builds. The coil inside me tightens until I breathe his name.
“Dante.” My voice is husky and desperate.
He doesn’t stop until I’m writhing in an attempt to get away from his mouth, crying out his name in a hoarse, broken gasp. He kisses the inside of my thigh, slow and intentional, then looks up at me like I’m his religion.
“You taste like fucking heaven.”
I laugh breathlessly, dragging him up to kiss me. “I need you inside me.”
I hook a leg around his waist, drawing him closer, feeling the solid warmth of his cock pressing into me. Our eyes meet, full of… love? Maybe. We haven’t said it out loud, but it hovers in the background like a secret waiting to be confessed.
He finally eases into me.
“Oh, fuck.”
He starts slow, mindful of every movement, every breath. I bite my lower lip, nails digging lightly into his biceps, urging him on. He takes the cue, building a steady rhythm that draws tiny gasps from me with each thrust. My mind blanks, every sense focused on the slick heat of him moving inside my pussy, the sound of his breathing, our bodies rubbing together in a poetic motion.
Pressure builds within, an electric tension coiling tighter and tighter. My world narrows to the friction between us, the way each stroke sends a pulse of pleasure up my spine. Sweat beads on my forehead, mixing with the faint perfume of the night air drifting in through the window.
Dante’s voice is low and ragged near my ear. “You feel so… goddamn, Eva…”
His words send a fresh pulse of heat through me, and I answer with a breathless moan, tilting my hips just right to take him in deeper. He groans, gripping my waist as if grounding himself. I watch as he plunges into me over and over.
“Deeper,” I whisper, biting my lip. “I want to feel all of you.”
Without missing a beat, he slides off to the side and moves behind me, pulling me back against him. His chest is pressed to my back, one arm slipping around my shoulders, the other gripping my thigh. The change is quick and deliberate, and when he thrusts again, it’s deeper, hotter. More intimate.
I whimper, clutching his forearm, the angle sending pleasure shooting through me in waves.
“You like that?” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“Yes,” I gasp, my voice needy. “Don’t stop. Please, Dante, don’t stop.”
His pace is unhurried but powerful, every roll of his hips making me tremble. One hand drifts down, fingers brushing my clit with just enough pressure to make me gasp his name. I arch back against him, completely lost in the heat and rhythm, and the way he seems to know exactly how to touch me, how to make me come undone.
“I love how you fall apart for me,” he growls, kissing my shoulder. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
I intertwine my fingers through his, squeezing tightly as the tension builds to a breaking point. “I’m… almost… I’m right there.”
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “Come with me.”
A cry rips from my throat as pleasure crashes through me, white-hot and all-consuming. He groans against my neck, his own orgasm following a heartbeat later, intensifying mine. His entire body shudders behind me as he releases deep inside.
For a long moment, we remain entwined, trembling, breathless. His arm curls tighter around me, his chest rising and falling against my back.
“You okay?”
I smile, utterly spent. “I’m more than okay.”
He kisses the top of my shoulder. “That’s true because you’re perfect.”
I turn my head just enough to meet his eyes, dark and tender. “Even when I’m bossy in bed?”
He chuckles. “Especially then.”
We laugh and I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of him, letting the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart soothe me as we bask in the afterglow.
The night air brushes our damp skin, quite a contrast to the heat we just unleashed. He shifts, tugging the covers up over us, then turns me to face him, propping his head up on one hand.
I manage a tired smile. “Thank you. That was exactly what I needed.”
He glances over his shoulder at the barely-touched tiramisu. “Almost.” He grabs the bowl and fork and hands them to me.
“Sex and dessert?” I ask. “Seems too decadent.”
“Get used to it.”
I lean in and kiss him.
He smirks. “Glad to be of service.” His free hand drifts over my belly, gently resting his palm there. “You’re okay? Really?”
I sit up and take a bite of the tiramisu. I nod, pressing my palm over his. “I’m good. Amazing, actually.” I notice a slight furrow in his brow. “Hey, what’s that look for?”
He sighs, glancing away for a moment. “Nothing. Just got a lot on my mind.”
A mix of curiosity and apprehension flutters through me. “We can talk about it,” I say gently. “I know there’s still a big bombshell hanging over us, but we can talk about anything.”
He hesitates for a second, his thumb absently stroking my skin. “It’s not just that. I’m also dealing with a lot of family shit. My father’s old alliances, Linda being a constant nightmare, Luca being Luca.” He forces a small laugh, then shakes his head. “But none of that is your burden. I won’t let it be.”
A pang of guilt slices through me. He’s so determined to shield me, yet I’m still carrying secrets that could destroy everything if he found out how it all connects.
I push the thought away for tonight. We both deserve this moment.
“I appreciate that,” I say softly, leaning in to rest my forehead against his. “But you know, I’m not made of glass. You can talk to me if you need to.”
His arms tighten around me. “I will, eventually,” he murmurs. “Just not now. I don’t want to spoil this.”
My heart twists with a blend of relief and worry. Maybe he’s just anxious about the shifting mob alliances. I wish he’d let me in, but I can’t exactly blame him for being guarded. We both have plenty of scars.
We lapse into a comfortable silence. I finish my dessert and he takes the bowl, returning it to the nightstand. I scoot down and lay my head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat instantly calming my worry.
He presses a kiss to my temple. “I know it’s not simple or expected, but we work, Eva,” he says softly. “I can’t explain it. You bring out the best in me, and I’m not exactly used to that.”
A tired grin curls my lips. “You keep me safe. You make me feel beautiful, even when I’m freaking out about everything, especially my body.”
He tightens his hold, voice low and reassuring. “You are beautiful. Never doubt that.”
Warmth flows through me, and I hum in sleepy agreement.
Tomorrow will likely bring more drama: Linda swooping in with another insult, Luca sneering, Isabella revealing something else we’re not ready for. But tonight, it’s just us in this darkened room, the gentle, perfumed breeze coming in from the garden, and the knowledge we share something worth fighting for.
“Good night, Dante,” I mumble, half-asleep.
He kisses the top of my head. “Good night, Eva.”
I drift off, safe in the circle of his arms, grateful for the moment of peace in a world that keeps trying to tear us apart. No matter how complicated things become, we have this moment and we have each other, and right now, that’s enough to keep me going.
