Personally, I’d prefer the high heels stay, but I don’t complain when there’s a naked woman standing in front of me. Especially when she’s willing to take me any way that I want to give myself, and I know that she is.
Closing the distance between us, I strip my clothes off with each step that I take toward her naked and waiting body. Pressing my front to her back, I lift my hands and wrap my fingers around her biceps before I touch my lips to her shoulder.
“Dante,” she breathes.
I hum against her skin, loving the way that goose bumps cover her flesh. I should apologize for walking away from her all those months ago. I should do a lot of things, but I don’t.
Instead, I guide one of my hands across her chest and wrap it around the front of her throat, the other I slide down the center of her belly, then cup her cunt. I growl at the feel of her wetness against my palm.
Mine.
She is mine.
Chapter Two
DANTE
Zeta turns her head, her lips touching mine as I begin to move two fingers through the folds of her wet pussy. Her hips buck beneath my touch, her breath coming out heavier and heavier with each stroke of my fingers.
“Dante,” she breathes.
Hearing her say my name, it causes my cock to harden even more. I’m so fucking hard that I could pound nails. I want her to come like this, then I’m going to fuck her so hard she screams my name loud enough that all of the neighbors know it by heart.
My fingers move faster, focusing on her clit, playing it and her the way that I know she likes. It wasn’t hard to figure her out, she responds so fucking well to every single touch I give her.
She trembles, her body climbing higher and higher. I can feel her clit swelling beneath my touch, her pussy wet and coating my fingers, she’s so fucking close.
When she comes, I feel victorious. So fucking victorious. Zeta cries out with her release, her body going limp and my hands on her neck and cunt the only things keeping her standing upright.
With a grunt, I spin her around, wrapping my hands around the backs of her thighs and pick her up. She wraps her legs around my waist immediately. I don’t bother with the bed. I’ll fuck her there next time.
Gripping her ass, I adjust her so that my cock is aligned with her warm wet cunt. Walking toward the wall, I press her back against it for leverage. Without a word, I bury myself inside of her with one swift move.
She gasps, her eyes widening before they close and her head hits the wall with a thud. My fingers dig into her ass, holding her still while I pull out of her then slam back inside. She lifts her hands, digging her nails into my back.
“Harder,” she whispers.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice, not even once. The pictures on the wall rattle as I fuck her harder. My hips grind against her clit, my fingers still gripping her ass, no doubt leaving bruising on her pale skin.
I can feel her cunt flutter around me as I thrust harder and harder into her. “Look at me,” I demand.
I watch as her eyes open. I want to see her face when she comes. I want to watch everything, every fucking expression on her face. I fuck her hard, probably too hard, but I can’t control myself.
She doesn’t tell me to stop, doesn’t look like she’s in pain or even uncomfortable. I expect her to pull at me, tell me I’m being too rough, but she doesn’t. Instead, she takes everything that I give her.
She takes it.
Takes me.
Then she comes—hard.
ZETA
Dante drives himself deep inside of me, then buries his face against my neck and groans as he fills me with his release. I don’t panic, though I probably should. I’m on the pill and I can only hope that Dante wouldn’t put me in any kind of danger.
I don’t know why I trust him with my body, but I do.
I don’t trust him with my heart though, no way in hell.
His hips roll and my entire body twitches when he presses his pelvis against my sensitive clit. Dante’s tongue snakes out and he licks my neck, then nips my skin with his teeth causing me to moan.
“We need to talk,” he announces as he lifts his head.
“With you buried inside of me?” I ask.
He chuckles. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh before, not even a small chuckle the way he just has. It’s beautiful, and his eyes sparkle when he does it.
I want more of that.
“Is there another way to talk?” he asks.
I blink, my eyes searching his for a moment. “Dante, I think maybe we should get dressed and sit down, have a real conversation.”
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes staying glued to mine the entire time. “We’re talking just like this, cara,” he murmurs.
He lifts one of his hands from my ass and cups my cheek. His thumb slides across my bottom lip as he watches the move, then shifts his gaze back up to meet mine.
“You’re mine now,” he announces.
My head jerks, thumping against the wall as I try to make sense of what he’s just said.
“What does that mean?” I chance asking.
He grins, not looking away from me. “It means exactly what you think. I’m not fucking around anymore, you’re mine now, cara.”
“Not fucking around anymore?” I snap in irritation.
Dante shrugs a shoulder. “I’m not good at this shit. Didn’t want to hurt you, so I stayed away.”
“That’s a dick thing to say.”
He hums, his eyes searching mine. He doesn’t say anything else, his mouth touches mine and I melt against him too quickly. I don’t even put up a fight. Not even a little.
Chapter Three
ZETA
I don’t expect him to be lying next to me when I wake up the next morning. I also don’t expect him to have an arm slung around my waist and to have his front pressed against my back. I thought that he would have taken off sometime in the night, never to be seen or heard from again.
“You’re awake,” he grunts in a husky tone.
My body is stiff and I’m so confused. Why is he here? How long is he going to stay? What the hell is happening?
“I am,” I drawl.
He chuckles, his breath is warm as it fans my neck and shoulder. “I told you, cara. You’re mine.”
Turning around in his arms, I tilt my head back and look up into his eyes. They’re smiling down at me, a grin playing on his lips as he watches me.
“I still don’t know what that means,” I snap.
His grin widens. “It means whatever I need it to mean. Right now, it means that you’re my woman.”
“Like your girlfriend?”
He hums, dipping his chin, his lips touch mine but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. Instead, his mouth starts to move as he speaks.
“Boyfriends and girlfriends are for kids. I’m a man, cara. I know what I want and it’s you. You’re my woman.”
Bravely, I slide my tongue across his lips. “Does that mean you’re going to show up again? And that you want monogamy?”
He wraps his lips around my tongue quickly and sucks before he releases it. “You want that, Zeta. You want my cock to only fuck you?”
I should slap him for even asking. But the way he purrs the words, they send a shot of desire throughout my entire body. Lifting my leg, I hitch it over his hip. One of his hands wraps around the back of my thigh, the other shifts beneath us and tangles in the back of my hair.
“I like your hair down, cara,” he murmurs as he shifts his hips, and his cock slides between my folds.
Closing my eyes, I shift my hips, enjoying the sensation of the friction, but needing so much more. When Dante guides himself inside of me, my eyes open and look in his as I let out a sigh of relief.
He doesn’t speak, his eyes focused on mine. His fingers tighten their grip in my hair and if I thought he was capable, I would say that he’s making love to me right now.
DANTE
The way she watches me, it makes my cock twi
tch and my stomach ache. I don’t know why she even makes me feel anything at all. No other woman ever has. She’s standing at the counter pouring a cup of coffee, wearing nothing but my shirt.
Walking up behind her, I grab ahold of her hips, dipping my chin and touching my mouth to the side of her neck. Before I can do anything else, I hear the door lock jingle.
“Oh shit,” Zeta breathes.
“What the fuck?” I ask, letting my hands fall and turn away from her.
Wearing nothing but my boxer briefs, I march toward the front door and freeze at the sight of a woman standing in front of me. She looks like a replica of the woman in the kitchen—my woman—except she’s about twenty years older, but wears that age very well.
Her eyes widen and she stands stock-still, her lips parted in awe. “Oh, God,” Zeta moans behind me.
The woman’s body jerks and she lifts her gaze, looking over my shoulder to where I heard Zeta moan behind me. I watch as her eyes gaze down my body, slowly, taking in every inch of my torso before they stop at my hips, then her eyes fly up to mine and she tilts her head to the side with a small smile playing on her lips.
“And you are?”
“Dante,” I grunt.
Zeta moves around me, standing between us, and plants her fists on her hips before she cocks a hip to the side. “Mom, you can’t just barge into my place. What are you doing here?” she demands.
“I came with fresh biscotti,” she announces, holding the bag up and dangling it. “I was going to ask you about the appointment yesterday, but it seems that it went well… very well.”
I chuckle at her words, lifting my hand and wrapping my fingers around Zeta’s waist. Tugging her backward, I dip my chin and press my lips against her ear. “Get your mom all set up with some coffee, I’ll put some pants on and order some breakfast.”
“Dante, no,” she cries, spinning around.
I hum. “Zeta, yes.”
Without another word, I turn from them and make my way into the bathroom to put some pants on. Zeta’s mother is attractive, but she also looks like a maneater. It doesn’t take me long to slip on my pants, but I don’t go back out to the kitchen for a few more minutes. I give the mother and daughter a few moments together to discuss… whatever mothers and daughters discuss.
Chapter Four
ZETA
My mother doesn’t stay for breakfast. Not after I force her out of my house, with the promise that Dante will come to Sunday night dinner. I move to the kitchen and take the biscotti out of the bag, holding them up to my nose and taking a long sniff.
“Where’s your mom?” Dante asks, as if he is seriously looking forward to having breakfast with her.
Setting the biscotti down, I turn and look over my shoulder at him. He’s grinning that cocky grin as he watches me from a few feet away, his hip leaning against the countertop. He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me.
“I promised her we’d go to Sunday dinner in a few nights,” I mutter.
His eyes widen, and his lips don’t even twitch at my words. “Sunday dinner with the family?” he asks.
“It was the only way I could get her to leave.”
He snorts. “She didn’t have to leave.”
“I wanted her to.”
“Why?”
Shrugging my shoulder, I turn around, reaching behind me to grab ahold of the counter’s edge, gripping it tightly as I watch him. I don’t want to admit the truth.
I don’t want to tell him that all I wanted to do was have him alone and I do want him to meet my family. I want him and this to be real. I’ve never had a man before, hell, I’ve never really had a boy before either—not like this.
“Because I’ve never done this before and my mom doesn’t need to be in the middle of it. She’s in the middle of everything, all the time,” I admit on a whisper.
Something shifts in his features. The cockiness disappears, and his arms fall from his chest. I watch as he closes the short distance between us. His hands reach out, his fingers grip my hips and he tugs me against his chest.
“You’ve never done what, cara?” he asks, his voice husky and deep.
He dips his chin, his lips almost touching mine. I can feel his breath against my lips and I want him to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he speaks.
“You’ve never done what?” he asks again, this time, softer and sexier.
“Had a man stay over, had a man at all.”
He grunts, but doesn’t act shocked by my words. Instead, he slides his lips across my own, then releases me and takes a step back. “Get dressed, cara. We’re going to breakfast…”
His words trail off. I don’t move, instead I wait, knowing that he has something else he’s going to say. When he doesn’t, I ask him.
“And then what?”
He grins. “Then, you’re going to spend the day with your man.”
DANTE
Placing my hand at the small of her back, I guide Zeta down the steps of her house and toward my SUV. It’s parked right where I left it. Silently, I open the door for her and help her into the passenger seat.
Closing the door, I take a glance around to make sure that nobody is watching or following us, taking in my surroundings, I make my way toward the driver’s side and climb into the vehicle. Starting the engine, I shift it into drive and guide my SUV into traffic.
“Where are we going?” Zeta asks.
Smiling, I shrug a shoulder as I continue to make my way down the street. I could take her to a million different places, but I don’t. Instead, I take her somewhere familiar. Somewhere in my world.
I take her to Brooklyn, to the famiglia owned restaurant, a place that feels like home. At least the only home I have ever known. Traffic is light as I drive toward the bridge. Zeta doesn’t ask any more questions, though I’m sure they’re on the tip of her tongue.
It doesn’t take us long to arrive at the restaurant. It’s busy with brunching groups. Typically, not my crowd, but Zeta has never done a morning after breakfast. She’s never done any of this shit, and neither have I, but for some reason, I want to make it all really fucking special for her.
Once I’ve parked, I climb out of the car and walk over to her door, opening it to help her out. Taking her hand in mine, we walk toward the front door. I open it for her, allowing her to walk ahead of me, then follow her inside.
The hostess doesn’t even ask a single question. As soon as she sees me, she jerks her chin with a smile and starts to walk toward my regular table. We walk past a line of people waiting to be seated and follow her.
“Wow,” Zeta breathes.
I don’t respond to her awe, instead, I walk proudly with her at my side. Once the hostess arrives at my table, I watch as she sets the menus down.
“Enjoy,” she says.
Pulling the chair out, I dip my chin. Zeta sits down and I push the chair in for her, then walk over to my own chair and sit down.
“Dante,” she whispers.
Lifting my head from the menu, I look up at her. “Yeah?”
Her eyes are wide and she looks around before she brings her gaze back to meet mine. “We’re in Brooklyn, in this restaurant,” she hisses.
“There’s a problem with this restaurant?” I ask.
She licks her lips, her eyes shifting around again before they meet mine. She’s nervous, it’s cute as fuck. “I’m Italian, you are too, yeah?” she asks.
Nodding my head, I find it comical as I wait to see where this is going. I have a feeling I know exactly what she’s going to say next.
“My parents never let me come to this part of Brooklyn, and I’ve heard rumors about this place,” she hisses.
Pressing my lips together, I try not to burst out laughing. Her eyes are wide and she looks scared, but fuck me, she’s beautiful in her innocence.
“You’ve heard rumors that the famiglia owns it, yeah?” Her lips part and then she snaps them closed as she nods her head a couple of times. Leaning
forward, I smile as I watch her reactions. “They do, we do, cara.”
Chapter Five
DANTE
Our breakfast was in silence. It was cute as fuck seeing her reactions to everything. To being in Brooklyn, to the fact that we were eating in a famiglia owned restaurant, and then to the fact that I am a Made Man on top of it.
Once we’re outside, I help her into my car and drive her toward my place. It’s not as nice as hers, but I have a feeling the other plans that I had for the day are fucking toast.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told her so soon, but she’s mine. I’ve been watching her for a while. Longer than she probably realizes.
She’s mine.
There’s no doubt about it in my mind any longer. This is my move, my one and only. In a few months, whether she knows it or not right now, she’s going to be my wife.
ZETA
Mob.
What the hell?
How?
I’m trembling as he drives us to an apartment complex. I don’t even realize what’s going on. He parks, gets out of the car, and jogs around the front before he reaches for the handle of the door and opens it.
I blindly follow him, feeling as if I’m in a daze. I don’t really see anything at all. Everything is a blurry haze as we walk into the elevator car and then into his apartment. Once we’re inside, I spin around and stare at him, eyes wide, mouth parted.
“Cara,” he hums.
“Don’t, cara me,” I snap. “You’re in the mafia?”
He nods his head, his lips twitching as if he finds this comical. Of course he does. Shaking my head, I take a step back, then another until I’ve pressed myself up against a cool window.
Becoming the Hitman (Zanetti Famiglia Book 5) Page 30