by Alexx Andria
He nodded, running his hand along the wooden beams, marveling at how well they’d stood the test of time. “When was the last time someone lived here?”
“Well, actually, about one hundred years ago from what I understand. My father said his great-grandfather had preferred this wing and made it his personal space.” I smiled, enjoying Dante’s appreciation for the old wing. Some people might see nothing but a falling-down wreck but Dante saw what I had as a child, the charm of a bygone era. “My father had forbidden us from going into the north wing but, of course, Enzo and I took that as an invitation to explore. We spent many hours down here. It became our own private place. We cleaned it out as best we could and made it our little hideaway.”
A layer of dust blanketed everything but you could see that modern children had once inhabited this space.
The old sofa we’d managed to pay some of the workers to carry down here, a table, some chairs, but there were no light fixtures or present-day conveniences. I smiled at the gas lantern still on the table. “Although, as much as we loved our space, we never spent much time down here at night. It’s a little spooky in the dark.”
Dante nodded with complete understanding. “This place is probably haunted as hell. Ever see a ghost?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I asked, amused. “You don’t seem the type.”
“Well, I’m a humble enough man to admit that there are probably things in this world that I can’t exactly explain and I’m willing to leave them be if they do the same.”
I laughed at the idea of Dante exhibiting humility. “Humble and Dante Donato seem incongruous.”
He shrugged. “Hey, I like to err on the side of caution.” His smile widened. “You didn’t answer my question...see any ghosts?”
Only one.
My smile faded a little. “My brother.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, contrite. “I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.”
“It’s okay, it was but a brief moment, a flash and he was gone. I think he was saying goodbye in his own way.”
“You weren’t scared?”
“I could never fear my brother. He was part of me.”
Dante nodded and folded me into his arms. I melted against his chest, inhaling the sharp spice of his masculine scent, and breathed deep. I would never tire of that smell. Dante’s particular odor was something that turned a lock deep inside me, releasing something that I couldn’t put my finger on but recognized as powerful.
His soft lips brushed against mine with a tender touch even as his strong knuckles gently caressed my cheek. Our tongues slid against one another as our bodies craved the heat only we could create.
In that moment, I wasn’t the head of Castello di Baroni, shouldering the burden of an entire legacy, but rather just a woman needing the firm touch of a man who knew how to stoke the fire capable of burning me to ash.
“Dante,” I whispered against his lips, gasping as his hands roamed my body, anchoring on my hips to draw me close. “I need you...”
I needed to feel him inside me, moving with me, pushing me to that ultimate release that I craved so deeply.
Dante obliged without so much as a blink, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to the ages-old sofa, setting me down gently. I helped him shimmy my pants from my hips and toss them to the floor as I quickly ripped my blouse off to join them. In panties and a bra, I relished the smoldering heat in Dante’s gaze as he devoured me from head to toe. When he looked at me like that, I was the only woman in the world. I shivered from the intensity, goose bumps rioting along my exposed skin, inviting his lips to follow.
Dante placed one leg over his shoulder as he nuzzled the damp heat shielded by the tiny scrap of lace, inhaling my scent as he groaned with pleasure. “I can’t get enough of you,” he admitted with a husky growl that I felt in my belly. I gasped as he teased me through the thin fabric, dancing around my pussy lips, tantalizing my clit with just enough friction to make me squirm without actually applying enough pressure to bring me to a shuddering end.
Oh God. Hands down, Dante was the most talented lover I’d ever entertained in my bed but we were evenly matched. As he continued to tease me, I made a vow to make him squirm when I had him in my mouth. I gripped his hair and pushed his head toward me with an urgent, “Stop fucking around, damn it!” and he chuckled at my frustration because he was doing it purposefully.
“Just remember,” I reminded him with a sultry smile even as I groaned, “you will pay when it’s my turn.”
“I’m counting on it,” he replied with his signature charm, but then he inched my panties down my hips and feasted like a man dying of hunger until I was left drenched, tumbling into multiple orgasms until I was weak as a kitten.
Dante kissed me hard, swirling his tongue against mine, tasting me as I tasted him, and my desire climbed once again, seeking his touch, the feel of his cock stretching me to impossible lengths until I sobbed with pleasure.
He pushed his length inside me, his hips flexing, his large hands capturing mine above my head, holding me captive as he drove himself deep. He filled me completely, so perfectly. I never believed in such nonsense until Dante. Our bodies were made for one another. A key and lock. A song of decadent pleasure rang out in my bones as he emptied himself into me, both of us shuddering with completion.
The oppressive heat from the room coated our lungs and sent rivulets of sweat rolling down our bodies. Dante climbed off me as he slowly stretched, his semiflaccid cock still oozing droplets of fluid. I rose and pulled him toward me, my hands bracketing his hips as I gently lapped at the salty drops. Dante sucked in a wild breath, his fingers threading through my hair as I tended to his cock, licking and tenderly sucking him dry, until he was thoroughly spent and nearly buckling.
“Fuckkkk,” he groaned under his breath as I finished. “You’re going to be the death of me but I don’t mind.” Dante flopped onto the sofa beside me, sending a cloud of dust swirling into the still air. He dispersed the cloud with a heavy wave of his hand as I laughed weakly. “We need to equip this place with some amenities...like a well-stocked fridge with ice-cold water or beer. A fan would be nice, too.”
“You aren’t staying long enough to make this our own private booty-call break room,” I said, reminding him that our time was finite. “Otherwise, your idea has merit.”
He swiveled his head to regard me with something I couldn’t quite define. “Maybe I’m ready for a change of scenery. Italy has grown on me.”
I ignored the little flutter in my belly at his reply. I wasn’t going to buy into that. Dante was a player and I knew the game. I probably shouldn’t have brought him here, but I was in no danger of giving him more than I meant to. “Don’t flatter yourself. You bore too easily. You, my handsome American stud, are a bad investment, no matter how well you can fuck.”
To his credit, he didn’t try to refute my statement but even as I knew I should dress and go back to work, I didn’t want to leave just yet. It could be that he looked like a god lounging, cock out, sweat glistening, muscles hard, and I wasn’t ready to put all that behind me to face a scowling Como and a mountain of work that pressed for my attention.
At least with Dante, all he wanted was my body.
And my body fairly purred at his touch.
Hell, all he had to do was look in my direction and I was wet.
“Seeing as your business in Italy is concluded, when do you plan to return to the States?”
He shrugged. “My schedule is flexible. For now, I’m enjoying playing tourist.”
I laughed. “Yes, are you still planning to take the walking tour of Siena?”
“I don’t know. What does your schedule look like?”
His persistence was admirable. “I told you I wasn’t free to traipse about the city with you. You are the tourist, not me.”
“Be honest, wouldn’t y
ou rather spend an afternoon playing tourist with me than stuck in the office on a beautiful fall day with that stick-in-the-mud assistant?”
He had a point. I would rather do anything with Dante, even take another silly cooking class, if it meant escaping the condemning looks from Como. I really needed to address that issue but with Uva Persa’s launch so soon, I couldn’t take the risk of Como doing anything out of spite that might wreck the debut. “What about you?” I asked, turning the focus around. “What are you avoiding back home? Surely, you have responsibilities that await your return.”
He exhaled a heavy sigh and shoved a hand through his damp hair, leaving behind a rakish, rugged look that made me want to eat him all over again. “Paperwork. Meetings. Dull market-share negotiations. Honestly, nothing my brother Luca can’t handle on his own.”
“So why do you stay in your job?” I asked, curious.
“Because it’s my family’s business and we have a reputation to uphold. The Donato name means something where I come from.”
I understood that pressure. Living up to the Baroni name was my own personal burden. “Are you happy?”
“Are you?”
We were two peas in a pod. Perhaps that was why we clicked so seamlessly. “I asked you first,” I countered with a sly smile.
I expected a pithy answer but he came back with genuine honesty. “I used to think I was. Now I’m not so sure. Italy has made me question many things about my life that I was unaware were even issues.”
“Such as?”
But that was as much as he was willing to share. He grabbed his jeans and slid them on, grinning with the shake of his head. “If we stay down here much longer, either we need to fuck again because I can’t be around your naked body without needing to be inside it, or we will die from dehydration because it’s hot as hell down here.” He reached out his hand to help me up. I slipped my hand in his and he pulled me straight to his mouth. A long, lingering kiss nearly sent us at each other again, but he was right. It was too hot and I needed to return to work, no matter how reluctant I was.
We dressed in companionable silence but as he turned to climb back up the stairs, I tugged at his hand and we detoured to my private chambers within the manor.
I undressed again, shedding my clothes as quickly as possible, and he did the same as I drew him toward the shower.
His grin was everything I’d come to crave without even realizing I needed it.
Standing beneath the cool spray, our slick bodies sliding against one another, senses alive at every touch, returning to the office had become a distant thought but I no longer cared.
Honestly, at this point, I no longer cared about anything but the pleasure between us.
And I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dante
I WAS ACCUSTOMED to wealth. I grew up surrounded by privilege—private jets, mansions, high-end resorts—but there was a different kind of money exhibited by European old money.
This castle, for example, was something out of a storybook. I wasn’t too proud to admit that I was impressed and a bit in awe.
“What was it like growing up here?” I asked, lounging on Alessandra’s bed, snacking on grapes and cheese. “You literally grew up in a castle.”
Alessandra shrugged as if it were no big deal. “The same as anywhere I guess. Except we had more rooms to hide in when we played hide-and-seek.” She snorted in memory, adding, “We actually lost Enzo once. Took a full day to find him. Our mother nearly had a heart attack.”
I laughed, imagining a young Alessandra and her twin running like heathens around this massive place. “Did you have a nanny?”
“No, our mother was very hands-on. She didn’t believe in handing off her responsibilities to someone else. We were very close.”
“She’s passed?”
Alessandra nodded. “Not long after Enzo died. I’m told it was a coincidence but she died a year after Enzo. I say it was from a broken heart but the doctors said it was an aneurysm. Extreme grief will do terrible things to the body.”
I sobered. So much loss in her family. My brothers pissed me off and were annoying but losing either of them would devastate me. Alessandra had lost her twin and then her mother. I couldn’t imagine how much that must’ve changed her in such a short time. “What was she like?”
Alessandra closed her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “Beautiful,” she answered, reopening her eyes. “I look like her. Sometimes I think my father’s grief is cracked open all over again when he sees me. He says each passing year I look more and more like her.”
“Are you close with your father?”
She hesitated. I identified so hard with her. Parental relationships were complicated. At least they seemed that way for my family. She wiped her mouth with a napkin before answering carefully. “I love my father very much. He is a good man but he is resistant to change, and change is inevitable if you want to stay relevant in this economy.”
I understood her answer. I’d had the same argument with my own father but it’d taken Luca pushing him out to make change happen. “Powerful men become powerful by doing things their way, but sometimes their way becomes outdated and they’re unwilling to bend.”
She nodded in agreement and seemed to frame her next question cautiously. “You seek to please your father yet he’s not happy with your efforts, but you continue to try?”
“Isn’t that the endless cycle of dysfunction that we all endure?” I asked, feeling philosophical.
“True enough.”
I sighed. “At least your father trusts you to run the business.”
Alessandra chuckled ruefully, admitting, “Only because I was the less offensive option. The business had always been Enzo’s legacy until he died. My father was loath to let a stranger run the company so it fell to me. I was the lesser of two evils.”
I sensed fear of inadequacy tugging at her words and it bothered me. She was a force of nature and if anyone couldn’t see that they were fucking blind. “You’re an incredible woman,” I told her, leaning over to brush a kiss across her lips. “Don’t let anyone take that from you. Not even your father.”
“My father loves me,” she returned with a smile, but she couldn’t hide the sadness in her eyes. “Although, I know he would’ve been more comfortable with Enzo at the helm. It’s not his fault, it’s his generation.”
I chose my words with care because I knew how much Alessandra loved her brother. “I didn’t know Enzo, but I can’t imagine anyone doing a better job than you’re doing right now.”
I wasn’t blowing smoke up her ass—I truly believed what I was saying. For a full moment, I was stunned at my own earnestness. Where had that come from? Why did it matter how Alessandra’s heart ached at her father’s blind stubbornness to see what was right in front of him? I didn’t have a ready answer, at least not one that was honest, and that was disconcerting. What was happening to me? I swallowed the odd lump in my throat and rose to put some distance between us on the pretense of getting two bottled waters from the fridge. When I returned, Alessandra had composed herself and I was relieved.
Too much emotion swirling around was threatening to replace my testicles with ovaries. I needed to lighten the mood. Dropping back onto the bed, I smiled and said, “So about that walking tour...”
“Fuck off with the walking tour.” Alessandra laughed and tossed a pillow at me, which gave me an excellent window in which to tackle her to the bed, pinning her with my weight. She smiled up at me, blinding me with her beauty. I couldn’t imagine ever tiring of that exquisite view. My cock stirred at the promise of action, thickening against her thigh. She giggled as she glanced demurely south, where I was quickly hardening to stone. “Again? You’ve the stamina of a horse.”
“Hung like one, too,” I quipped with an exaggerated slant of my brow. Her
peal of laughter warmed the dark places of my soul that I thought light would never penetrate. Who was this woman and where did she come from? Maybe in another life, we were married and happily growing old together. I rather liked the idea of waking up to her gorgeous face every day, even to the point of being wrinkled old raisins together. I kissed her again, framing her face with my hands, content to feel my lips against hers. I lost myself in the joy of her mouth moving against mine, our tongues exploring with abandon, as if we had all the time in the world to discover what made the other tick.
But we didn’t have time. The clock was doing the ticking...
Fuck it, I wanted this moment for myself.
I’d spent my life hungering for my father’s approval and the time would come fast enough where I had to deliver—and I would deliver—but I was claiming this time as my own.
Time with Alessandra.
It might be the only golden moment of true happiness I’d ever known, and I was going to be selfish about holding on to it for as long as I could.
I rolled Alessandra on top, my cock prodding with an urgency that I felt in my bones. I needed to be inside her. Her expression split into pure pleasure as she slid down on my cock, her body absorbing my length inch by inch. “Dante,” she groaned, music to my ears. “Oh God, yes...”
I pushed up, burying myself as deep as I could go, but I wanted to touch her soul. I wanted to be so deep inside her that where I stopped and she began was hard to determine. There was a desperation to my thrusts as I flexed my hips while she ground on my pelvis, taking her own pleasure. Her beautiful, proud breasts rose high with rose-tipped, pebbled nipples, begging for my hands and mouth. She fucked me with abandon, groaning as she chased her orgasm, demanding everything from me. Watching her come was an arousal in itself. Her fingers curled into my chest, leaving tiny scratches as she lost herself in the ecstasy etched on her face. Tensing, her walls clenched around my cock as she went rigid. Her head fell back as her mouth fell open on a soundless scream locked in her chest, before she tumbled forward in a heap. I gripped her hips and thrust against her hard and fast to find my own savage release.