Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“I thought we could talk.”
Just the demure sound of her voice told him that his wife was out for blood. His, to be exact. But if she wanted to play those games, Dante was up for that. He sat at the table across from Catrina and ate the meal in silence.
“Talk,” he said quietly.
“I will talk to Gaetano.”
“Absolutely not, Catrina.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
Standing from the table, Dante wiped his mouth with the napkin before washing back the taste of the spices with a half of a glass of wine his wife had set out for him. Then, he moved around the table, keeping Catrina in his sights all the while. When he stood in front of her, he dropped to his knees. Catrina didn’t say a word as his hands traveled over her thighs under her dress.
“Talk,” Dante said.
Sighing, Catrina murmured, “If you’re willing, you could fly out to LA with me, settle some things, and all will be well. But I have to do it. Me, not someone else.”
“No.”
“Dante ...”
He let his hands travel higher under her dress until silk and lace edged around his fingers. Catrina’s gaze darkened as Dante ghosted the tips of his fingers along the seam of her sex over top of her panties.
“No,” he repeated. “No business. We agreed.”
“You demanded,” she said weakly.
“And you agreed.”
“It’s not the same thing, bello ... God.”
Cat let out a shaky breath when two of his fingers slipped under the silk of her panties to graze her sex. Clearly, it wasn’t just Dante who had been frustrated and wanting something for the last week. Catrina seemed all too pleased to have her husband’s hands between her thighs, touching her. Dante didn’t mind a bit.
He found her wet, hot, and tight as two of his fingers slipped into her core. Nothing was more beautiful than Catrina when Dante was fucking her. It didn’t matter if it was his fingers, mouth or cock, she was sexy as hell.
Her sex clamped down on his fingers, wetness soaking his palm when he curled the digits hard into her G-spot. Catrina’s quiet cry was high and broken, like she’d been needing that, wanting that. Dante didn’t mind providing it.
“There,” he murmured.
Catrina shifted her hips with every thrust, meeting his hand. “There.”
“So sensitive,” he noted, flicking his thumb up to graze her clit.
Her body jerked at the touch.
“Merda,” she breathed. “You’re killing me.”
“Mmm,” he agreed, pushing the skirt of her dress higher around her hips to see the sight of his fingers working her sex under her panties. “Fucking perfect. Come, Cat. I want you soaking me even more. I need a fucking taste of this pussy. It’s been a goddamn week, kitten. That’s too long.”
“Harder,” she demanded.
He obliged, stroking her sex faster and deeper until her thighs shook and she was crying his name. When her snug, wet walls started to flutter around his fingers, Dante stood, keeping the rhythm between her thighs going, and kissed his wife bruisingly hard. His tongue claimed her mouth as she came undone around his hand.
“Hmm,” Dante hummed, grinning as he kissed the apple of her cheek.
Cat shuddered. “Talking, Dante, we were supposed to be—”
“It’s still not up for discussion, bella.”
“Fine.”
Dante removed his hand and placed it to her still trembling thigh. “What was that?”
“Fine,” Cat muttered. “You win.”
“It’s not about winning.”
“Liar. It’s always about winning with you.”
Dante smirked. “Well, as long as I get what I want, then yes.”
“No business.”
“No business,” he agreed.
“Until the baby is born.”
Half-winning, then. Dante would take it.
The Newborn
Catrina Marcello had never been more terrified of anything in her life than the moment when she needed to leave the hospital after her daughter’s birth. She had come to learn several things in her cozy, comfortable stay in the Labor and Delivery ward with the nurses close by.
One, she didn’t know fucking anything about babies.
Nothing.
Two, having to do all of this alone—take care of a newborn, and keep the baby alive—was going to be everything but easy.
Her birth and hospital stay had been rather easy, all things considered. No interventions needed, other than being induced, and nothing to be concerned about. The pain had been terrible, as she expected it to be, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle when it came right down to it.
Honestly, she had been so excited to meet her baby girl—this beautiful creature she had only gotten glimpses of during ultrasounds, and listened to her heartbeat week after week—that the pain became a distant memory to Catrina the moment little Catherine was put into her arms.
Nothing mattered after that.
Nothing ever would.
Oh, she loved her daughter instantly. Completely and entirely. She fell in love once—on sight—with the boy her sister birthed, who had subsequently became Catrina’s son. And then she fell in love a second time with her husband—a man she had never thought she would find for herself.