Dating Dante was like rediscovering a part of myself I’d buried when I realized my future was not my own. The part that dreamed of love and roses, that wasn’t afraid to open up to someone in case I fell in love with them and they turned out to be an
“unsuitable match.”
Even when I’d dated Heath, whom I hadn’t heard from since the apartment incident, I’d carried an impending sense of doom. I knew my parents wouldn’t approve of him, and the knowledge had followed us like an invisible third wheel.
But with Dante, I could enjoy his company without worry. Not only was he a family-approved match, he was actually, well, likable once I looked past the scowls and arrogance.
“Give me one hint. I promise I won’t tell anyone.” I plied him with my best puppy dog eyes.
After a month, I’d finally grown into our new relationship dynamic.
Lazy mornings, explosive nights, and all the quiet, beautifully mundane moments in between. I’d even convinced Dante to attend a wedding cake tasting (we would fly the baker to Italy for the wedding), though his input had been questionable at best. He’d liked all of the cakes, even the “experimental” coconut meringue one that had no business touching anyone’s taste buds.
For the first time, I understood what being part of a real engaged couple felt like, and it was strange and beautiful and terrifying all wrapped into one.
Dante’s mouth curled into a grin. We were making progress on the less frowns, more smiles front. Not a lot, but some.
At this point, I took what I could get.
“That would be a convincing argument if the surprise wasn’t for you, mia cara,” he drawled.
“All the more reason for you to tell me. It’s my surprise. Don’t I get a say in when and how it’s revealed?”
“No.”
I released a long-suffering sigh. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Mr.
Russo.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “You’ll thank me once we get there. This is a surprise that has to be shown, not told.”
We were in the limo on the way to some mysterious date he’d planned for us. Judging by the route we were taking, we were staying in upper Manhattan. He’d also told me to wear something nice but comfortable, so it couldn’t be anywhere too fancy.
Was it a private museum exhibit? Dinner at that hot new underground restaurant everyone was raving about?
“If you tell me now, I’ll stop putting those flowers you hate so much in the guest bathrooms,” I said.
“No.”
“I’ll stop hogging the covers.”
“No.”
“I’ll watch a soccer game with you. I’ll even pretend to like it.”
“Tempting,” he said dryly. “But no.”
It wasn’t about the surprise at this point. I just wanted to see if I could make Dante crack. He was infuriatingly strong-willed.
I glanced at the closed, soundproofed partition separating us from the driver’s seat. Thomas, our chauffeur, was focused on the road ahead. Traffic crawled at a snail’s pace; at this rate, we’d reach our destination sometime in the year 2050.
“Is there any way I can convince you to change your mind?” I leaned closer and bit back a smile when Dante’s eyes flicked down.
My new Lilah Amiri dress was modest in length, but its V-neck exposed a generous amount of cleavage.
“I doubt it.” A hint of wariness crept into his voice when I put a hand on his chest and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“Are you sure?” My hand trailed down his stomach toward his groin.
His muscles were taut beneath my touch, and his throat flexed when I grazed his hardening erection.
Nerves and anticipation fluttered in my stomach.
We’d had sex almost daily over the past month, but I’d never initiated it in semi-public before. It was something Isabella or even Sloane would do, if she was in the mood. I was much more private, but the possibility of Thomas glancing in the mirror and seeing us sent a strange, unexpected thrill through my stomach.
Plus, I really wanted to know what the surprise was.
“Vivian…” Dante’s voice was heavy with warning.
I ignored it.
“I think you’re wrong.” I kissed my way down his jaw and neck while I worked his zipper down. “I think…” The soft rasp of metal dropped between my legs and pulsed. “There’s a way to persuade you.”
I pulled back and slid off the bench onto my knees. A warm heaviness settled in my stomach when I freed his erection. It was huge and hard and already dripping pre-cum, and a harsh groan filled the backseat when I swirled my tongue around the head.
I gripped the base of his cock with both hands and slowly slid its length down my throat until I hit the point where my eyes watered.
It wasn’t my first time giving Dante a blowjob, but I’d never fully get used to how big he was. How thick and long.
I’d taken him as far as I could, and there was still a good two inches between my mouth and the top of my stacked fists.
I whimpered, tasting the salty sweetness of him before I swirled my tongue around his head. Softly at first, then more confident as I fell into a rhythm, licking and sucking and bobbing until I was drenched.
I shouldn’t be this turned on already. My nipples shouldn’t be this hard, my skin this sensitive. Every light graze against his pant leg shouldn’t send a fresh jolt of electricity.
But I was, and they did, and I was drowning in so much sensation I couldn’t remember where we were or how we got here.
I just knew I didn’t want to leave.
Dante’s hands sank into my hair as the car went over a speed bump, inadvertently forcing him deeper down my throat. I spluttered, my chokes and gurgles filling the car as I struggled to accommodate the extra inches, but I didn’t pull back.
“Fuck, baby.” His groan curled low in my stomach. “That feels so good.”
I looked up, my eyes blurry with tears from taking him so deep, but pride rushed through me when I saw the pleasure carving stark, sensual lines into his face.
His eyes were closed, his head tipped back to expose the strong, tanned column of his throat. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and his muscles flexed every time I swept my tongue over the underside of his cock. His fingers strangled my hair to the point where pain and pleasure blurred into one.
There was something so heady about having someone like Dante at my mercy. I could either bring him over the edge or keep him there forever. His pleasure was entirely in my hands, and the knowledge thrummed between my thighs with heavy insistency.
I increased my pace, my hands working in tandem with my mouth, and just when I thought he would come, he fisted my hair with one hand and pulled my head back.
My noise of protest died when he lifted me onto his lap and crushed his mouth to mine. His arousal pressed against my core, separated only by a thin layer of silk, and I instinctively ground against it, desperate for more friction.
Another harsh groan vibrated down the length of my spine.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” Dante’s stubble scraped across my skin as his mouth trailed a line of fire down my neck.
He closed his teeth around the strap of my dress and gently tugged it down while he raised my hips so he could push my soaked thong to the side.
I didn’t have time to do more than gasp before he was inside me, filling me to the hilt with only one thrust.
I only had a few seconds to adjust before he gripped my hips and slammed me down again on his cock, hard, while he drove up inside me.
Again and again, harder and faster, until my toes curled and the pressure building inside me neared a breaking point.
I clung to him, my head thrown back, my body nothing more than a mass of sensation as I matched his rhythm. I bounced up and down, grinding my clit against him on every down stroke.
“Just like that,” Dante growled. He grazed his teeth across my nipple, his breath raising goosebumps all over my skin. “Ride my cock like a good girl.”
An embarrassingly loud moan climbed up my throat when he closed his mouth around the pebbled peak and sucked. Wetness gushed down my thighs, over his leg, and onto the seat.
“You’re making a mess, sweetheart.” He turned his attention to my other nipple and tugged on it with his teeth. “Should I make you clean it up, hmm? Have you lick your own cum off the seat while I fuck you from behind?”
It was dirty and depraved, but his words triggered something deep inside me.
My orgasm slammed into me a second later with sudden ferocity, causing my back to arch and my mouth to fall open in a silent scream.
I was still trembling from the aftershocks when I felt Dante’s chuckle against my skin. “Here I thought you were so prim and proper when I first met you.”
I was too dazed to respond properly or notice when he maneuvered me into a different position.
One minute, I was on his lap. The next, I was on all fours, my hands and knees pressing into the rough black carpet covering the floor.
I wasn’t sure how Dante managed to move us so I faced our seat and he was behind me, but I didn’t particularly care.
A shiver of pleasure zipped down my spine at his next words.
“Spread your legs for me. That’s it.” Dante’s approval rumbled over me when I obeyed. “Let me see how wet that pretty little pussy is.”
I was just coming off the high of my release, but anticipation built again when the tip of his cock nudged my entrance.
When he didn’t make a further move, I pushed back against him and whined with need.
“Clean up your mess first, Vivian,” he said calmly.
I opened my mouth, intending to protest. Instead, my tongue tentatively touched the leather seat of its own accord. The tanginess of my arousal flooded my taste buds.
I should’ve been disgusted, but my core pulsed with need. My clit was so swollen and sensitive I felt like the slightest breeze could set me off again.
“Good girl.”
Dante’s praise washed over me like a warm aphrodisiac before he gripped my hair and thrust into me again.
My mind blanked. I broke out into a fresh sweat, my fingers digging into the bench as he pounded into me. Every time I caught my breath, another thrust knocked it out of my lungs again. Sensation stretched my skin taut and made me lightheaded until the world dissolved into nothing more than a symphony of squeals, moans, and the slap of flesh against flesh.
Minutes. Hours. Days.
Time grew increasingly disjointed until Dante reached around and pinched my clit.
The sudden spike of pleasure yanked me back to the present and made my back bow from the intensity.
Only half my resulting scream made it out before a hand clamped over my mouth.
“Shh,” Dante murmured. “You don’t want people to hear how much you love being fucked like this, do you? On all fours in the backseat of a car, taking every inch of my cock like you’re fucking made for it.” He gave my clit another long, lazy stroke with his other hand. “It’s not very becoming of a society heiress.”
The gentleness of his voice, contrasted with the filthiness of his words and the brutal slam of his cock inside me, tipped me over the edge.
My second orgasm of the night crashed over me, so powerful and all-consuming it drowned out every other sound, including my cry of release.
It was just silence and the hot, electric pleasure lighting up my body as I came apart so thoroughly I didn’t know how I would ever be put back together.
Stars burst behind my eyes. I vaguely heard Dante’s groan as he came, but I was riding too high to focus on anything else.
Just when I thought it was over, another wave dragged me under, again and again, until I was a limp, trembling mess held together only by Dante’s arm beneath my waist and the weight of his body above my own.
He smoothed my hair back from my face and kissed my shoulder as I gradually drifted down from my peak.
I slumped forward, trying to catch my breath while Dante cleaned me up with a tissue and pulled my dress down.
He didn’t speak, but the tenderness of his actions said more than words could.
When my breathing evened out, he lifted me onto the seat again and handed me my purse.
“We’re here.” His voice smoothed into its usual velvet, albeit one with a faintly ragged edge.
“What?” I tried to make sense of his words through my post-climax fog.
A smile tugged on his mouth. I didn’t know when, but he’d somehow already fixed his clothes. Save for his tousled hair and the color on his cheekbones, he looked like he’d spent the past half hour chatting about the weather instead of fucking me into oblivion.
“We’re here,” he repeated. He rubbed a gentle thumb over my bottom lip. “Might want to fix your lipstick, mia cara. As beautiful as you look freshly fucked, I would hate to ruin our evening by having to kill every other man who sees you like this.”
My cheeks flushed, doubly so when I caught my reflection in the car window and saw the distinctive white building outside.
We were at Valhalla, which meant we’d passed through security while we were…
Heat raced from my face down over my neck and chest.
My hair was a mess, my mascara and lipstick smudged, and little red marks from Dante’s teeth and stubble peppered my skin. Anyone looking at me would know exactly what I’d been up to.
But despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t bring myself to regret what happened.
That had been the best sex of my life. Hands down.
“Don’t worry.” Dante accurately assessed my worry. “The windows are tinted, and Thomas is on the authorized guests list. They couldn’t see us from the front.”
Thomas. Oh God. What if he’d looked in the rearview mirror and…
“The partition is also tinted,” Dante added.
“Right.” I avoided his gaze as I fixed myself the best I could. Luckily, I always carried a mini makeup kit with me, but there wasn’t much I could do about the marks on my skin, so I settled for borrowing Dante’s jacket.
My heart thumped when Thomas opened the door for us. He bid us a polite good evening, his face studiously blank.
My skin flamed anew.
He might not have seen or heard us, but he definitely knew what we’d been doing.
“Don’t say a word,” I warned as Dante and I walked toward Valhalla’s entrance.
“I won’t.” Laughter lurked beneath his voice. “But if it makes you feel better, it’s not the first time Thomas has seen…action in his backseat.”
I slid a sideways glance at him. “Make a habit of limo sex, do you?”
Amusement pulled at the corners of his mouth. “He used to work for William Haverton. The man is in his sixties but has a fat wallet and the libido of a college frat boy. You do the math.” We passed through the club’s foyer. “I assure you, I don’t make a habit of limo sex.”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “I see.”
His smile blossomed in full, dark and wicked. “Jealous?”
“Not in the least.”
I held my head high and ignored his knowing chuckle.
It was only when we reached the elevator that I realized I’d completely forgotten to ask him about the surprise date before we arrived.
Since Valhalla’s top two floors had been closed during the fall gala, Dante gave me a quick tour of the places we’d missed during my last visit, including the spa, an indoor bowling alley, and an arcade lined with rare vintage games.
I would’ve enjoyed it more had I not been so impatient to find out what the big mystery date was.
“Are you still mad you didn’t get the surprise out of me in the car?”
Dante asked as we stopped in front of a set of double doors on the fourth floor.
“No.” Yes.
“At least we both got orgasms out of it,” he drawled. “It was a win-win situation.”
Laughter crinkled the edges of his eyes when I swatted his arm, my face hot, but his boyish smile was so endearing I couldn’t hold onto my annoyance.
“Like I said, it’s something that’s better seen than told.” He tilted his head toward the closed room. “This is the club’s multipurpose space.
Members can reserve it and turn it into anything they want. It’s been a private concert hall, a vintage porcelain doll exhibit…”
My eyebrows shot up.
“One of the members is a collector. Don’t ask.” He opened the doors.
“Hopefully, this makes up for the wait.”
Oh my God.
I sucked in a sharp inhale.
When he’d said multipurpose space, I’d pictured whiteboards and industrial gray carpet. Theoretically, I knew Valhalla wouldn’t house something so generic, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the sight before me.
He’d turned the room into a planetarium.
No, not a planetarium. A virtual galaxy.
Brilliant stars splashed across the soaring walls and ceiling and swirled beneath our feet. Constellations dotted the “sky,” including Andromeda, Perseus, and a distinctive hourglass shape that made my breath hitch.
Orion. My favorite.
“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Dante said. “So I brought the stars to you.”
A ball of emotion formed in my throat. “How did you…”
He followed my gaze to Orion. It sparkled front and center, shining more brightly than the rest.
“I had a call with your sister. She told me it was your favorite.” He guided me into the room. “Apparently, you wouldn’t shut up about Orion when you were younger. Her words.”
Agnes would say that.
Dante’s face softened with an uncharacteristic hint of uncertainty. “Do you like it?”
I laced my fingers with his, my chest indescribably tight. “It’s perfect.”
We’d gone on more than half a dozen dates over the past month. They’d ranged from lavish, like the helicopter tour after our milkshakes and an overnight getaway to Bermuda, to casual, like a stroll through Chelsea Market and a show at the Comedy Cellar.
But none had hit me quite as hard as tonight’s.
The fact Dante had gone to the trouble of setting this up and consulting my sister when he could’ve easily taken me to the planetarium instead…it touched a part of me I hadn’t thought anyone could reach.
His shoulders relaxed and he squeezed my hand in silent reply as we walked to the center of the room, where a pile of blankets, cushions, and a dinner spread awaited us.
I sank onto a pale blue cushion while Dante picked up a distinctive wine bottle. Was that…
“Domaine de la Romanée Conti,” he confirmed. Dante uncorked the famous red and poured it into two glasses. “Courtesy of the club’s sommelier.”
Known for its high quality and limited production, Domaine de la Romanée Conti, or DRC, was one of the most expensive wines in the world. An average bottle cost upwards of twenty-six thousand dollars.
“Bringing out the big guns,” I teased. “Dante Russo, are you trying to impress me?”
“Depends.” He handed me a glass and watched as I took a small sip. “Is it working?”
The rich flavors of berry fruits, violets, and cassis burst onto my tongue, mixed with a fine minerality and complex earthiness.
Textural. Potent. Elegant.
No wonder people were willing to shell out the big bucks for a bottle. It was the best wine I’d ever tasted.
“Yes,” I said, already heady from one sip and a night that’d barely begun. “Quite well.”
“Then yes, I am.” His eyes danced with amusement as I went back for seconds. “You’re turning red, mia cara.”
I was extremely sensitive to red wine, which was why I usually stuck with whites and rosés. Even those made my face glow crimson after a glass or two, but the DRC was too exquisite to waste.
“It’s not my fault,” I said, embarrassed. “It’s the tannins.”
“It’s adorable.” He brushed a thumb over my flushed cheek.
Warmth curled low in my stomach.
Grumpy, brooding Dante had grown on me the past few months. But sweet, playful Dante? He was kryptonite to my heart.
After dinner, I pulled a blanket over us and rested my head on Dante’s shoulder, half sleepy and half buzzing from the high of the date. He wrapped an arm around my waist, the weight strong and comforting against my back.
The stars twinkled above us like a display of diamonds on midnight velvet. They were projections, but they looked so real I almost believed we were somewhere in the wilderness, watching the skies and listening to the silence.
“When I was little, our parents would take us camping.” I didn’t know where the words came from, but they felt right for the moment. “My father would drive, my mother would pack way too many snacks, and my sister and I would try to spot as many states’ license plates on the road as we could.”
I hated bugs, and I wasn’t a big outdoors person, but I’d loved those trips because we’d done them as a family. Since then, we’d upgraded to summers in St. Tropez and Christmases in St. Barth’s, but I missed the simplicity of our early family vacations.
“At night, when we were supposed to be asleep, Agnes and I would sneak out of our tent and count the stars,” I continued. “We’d pretend they were people living in a celestial realm and made up backstories for all of them.”
“Any interesting ones?”
I smiled. “Tons. One was plotting to overthrow the ruler of the kingdom. Another was having an affair with her awful husband’s most trusted guard. Shooting stars were people who’d been exiled and cast down to earth.”
Dante’s laugh vibrated through my body. “Sounds like a soap opera.”
“We were children. We had active imaginations, okay?” I nudged his leg with mine. “Don’t tell me you never made up stories about the things around you.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but my imagination isn’t as good as yours.” He rubbed an absentminded thumb over my hip. “My family never went camping. My grandfather was strictly a resort or private estate type of person. He didn’t want Luca and me to lose touch with our culture, so he sent us to Italy with Greta every summer. We had—have—houses all over the country. Rome, Tuscany, Milan…we visited a different place every year.”
“What’s your favorite place in Italy?”
“Villa Serafina.” His family’s estate in Lake Como. “The lake, the gardens…twelve-year-old me thought it was magical.”
“Where the wedding will take place,” I murmured. “I can’t wait to see it.”
We were scheduled to stay there in the month leading up to the ceremony. I’d only seen pictures, but even through a screen, it was breathtaking.
“Yes.” A strange note entered Dante’s voice. “Where the wedding will take place.”
“It’ll be perfect. My mother wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said dryly. She’d been driving me nuts with endless calls about the flowers, tableware, and a thousand other details she shouldn’t be micromanaging, but I hadn’t expected anything less. I was her last opportunity to go all out on a big wedding. “At least my father isn’t also hounding me about china patterns. He got the date he wanted. That’s all he cares about.”
“August eighth. Let me guess. It’s the date he made his first million.”
I laughed. “Close, but not quite. Eight is his favorite number.”
Dante’s thumb paused before it resumed caressing my skin. “The number eight? Really?”
“Yes.” I yawned. Nothing made me sleepier than wine and sex, and I’d had the best of both tonight. “It’s a lucky number in Chinese culture because it’s associated with wealth. When my parents were house hunting, they specifically looked for places with eight in their address. My father is very superstitious about things like that.”
“I never would’ve guessed.” Dante’s tone cooled the way it always did when we discussed my father.
I lifted my head. A distracted expression crossed his face, but it disappeared when he saw me looking.
“You don’t like my family very much.” I’d picked up on it at our introductory dinner, but it had become increasingly evident since.
Every time I mentioned my parents, Dante’s face shut down, and I could feel him mentally withdraw.
When we visited Boston for Christmas, he spent most of his time communicating in glares and one-word answers. It’d been the most awkward four days of my life.
“I don’t like a lot of people,” he said evasively. “But if we’re being honest, Francis and I will never be best friends. We have different…
outlooks on life.”
Before I could respond, he cupped my face and brushed my lips with his.
“No more talk about family,” he said. “We have the room to ourselves for the night, and I can think of a few other things that I would much rather be doing…”
Any resistance I had melted when he deepened the kiss. My lips parted, and my sigh invited him in. He slid his tongue against mine, tasting like wine and heat and sin.
Dante was right. It was a beautiful night, and there was no reason to dampen it with talk of family.
A lingering sense of unease prickled the back of my neck, but I brushed it aside.
So what if Dante and my father didn’t see eye to eye on everything?
Some antagonism was expected among fathers and their sons-in-law. It wasn’t like they were going to punch each other at the next holiday gathering.
Plus, my parents lived in a different city. We wouldn’t see them much anyway.
I had nothing to worry about.
