Chapter 20
FRANKIE
Without a word, Dante pulls my chair back from the dinner table and takes my hand, pulling me to my feet.
I guess this means no dessert.
His brothers look at us conspicuously, but no one says a thing as we exit the dining room and take a left down the hall.
My curiosity is piqued, but I don’t ask any questions—I’m still pissed about the “talk” we had in the car earlier.
The talk where I laid out exactly what was bothering me and he just sat there and said nothing.
Nothing about trusting me or granting me personal freedom or even simply understanding where I was coming from. Asshole.
He turns into a doorway and I realize he’s led me to the library.
“Sit,” Dante says as he pulls out a chair facing a heavy mahogany desk. There are stacks of papers spread neatly across the desktop.
I don’t sit. “What is this?”
“I’ll get to that in a second. Please, just sit.”
Rolling my eyes, I comply.
Sensing this is more than a conversational chat, I look around the room.
I’ve been in here before, of course, but I’ve never paid much attention to the details.
Leather-bound books are arranged in perfect rows on gleaming bookcases against the walls.
The furniture looks expensive but showroom new, as if it barely gets used, the air a bit stuffy as if the windows are rarely opened to let in a breeze.
“Just another pretentious room, isn’t it?” I say. “Have you even read any of these books?”
He sits down behind the desk. “Most of them aren’t real. They’re just for show.”
“Just like everything else in this house.”
He smooths his tie and leans back. “You really don’t like the house, do you?”
I shrug. “It’s a beautiful. And huge. And cold and pretentious. Perfect for this cold and pretentious family.”
“So you’re not happy with the house.”
“What did you bring me in here for, Dante? My ankles are swelling again.”
With a sigh, he pushes the papers toward me. “This is everything you want to know.”
My mood grows serious as I start to sift through documents filled with accounting, contracts, photos of random people along with short, typed reports like a private investigator might do. Copies of emails and bank statements and lists of names.
“When our father died, my brothers and I swore we were getting out of the mob. All of our loose ends were tied up, except a few betting books that the Frisco family was happy to take off our hands. We didn’t owe anyone a single damn thing.
That created the unheard of opportunity to get out, and we took it.
We were finally clean. Ready to go legit. So we did.
“But then we found Bregman and…we got some more information.”
“About your dad’s accident.”
Dante nods. “That wasn’t all. He’d gotten paid to off Marco the same way, in a car accident. Bregman had plans to tamper with the race car. So we stopped him.”
“You killed him,” I say quietly, understanding dawning on me. “Neutralized a threat.”
I search my husband’s gaze, but all I see in his eyes are the familiar walls he keeps up.
“The threat didn’t stop there, Frankie,” he says quietly. “They targeted your sister, and if we didn’t take immediate action, they’d have already come after you. Probably Charlie, too. Anyone close to the Bellanti family is at risk.”
“Hence the security detail. And you being even more of a control freak than usual.” I take a deep breath, absorbing it all. The pieces are clicking into place. “So what now?”
“We had to get back in,” Dante says. “For the sake of keeping our family alive. We had no choice, not knowing who to trust or where the next blow might land.”
Closing my eyes against his words, I set the papers on my lap. “You’re back in the mob.”
“For now, yes. We’re working on an…arrangement of sorts.”
A tingle races over my scalp. “Will there…will there be another chance to get out?”
His silence gives me the answer.
“Okay,” I breathe. I take a moment. Then another. My eyes open. “Okay then.”
His chin tips up. “Okay? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
I lean back in the chair. “Okay, I understand now. I believe you. And I’m going to take Donovan everywhere I go that isn’t Bellanti property. Which will not be often.”
“You’re going to follow the rules, just like that?”
“Just like that. This is scary shit. The kind of shit that’s forcing me to reframe everything that’s happened over the last few weeks. I didn’t know any of this before—but now I do.”
He doesn’t say anything for a second, just looks at me. “Well okay then.”
“I mean, not quite ‘okay then,’” I huff. “I’m still pissed that you kept all this from me and I’m not at all happy to find out that we’re tangled up with the mob, but…I guess I’m more relieved that you’ve finally decided to trust me with all this.”
Dante slips from his chair and gets down on one knee next to me. The warmth of his hand connects us as he slides his fingers through mine. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Not your sisters, not your mother. No one. If you need to talk about it, you talk to me.”
“I understand.”
His eyes narrow. “Really? It’s that easy?”
Slipping my hands around the back of his neck, I pull him closer. “Good things happen when you trust me, Dante. You keep forgetting that.”
Taking my chin in his hand, he pulls me in for a gentle kiss.
“I think I’m starting to remember.”
When he kisses me deeper, I slide my hands around the back of his neck and pull him closer. Dante scoops me out of the chair and holds me tight. Pressed to him. Suddenly, he lets go and steps back, looking at my middle like something terrible just happened.
“The—did I squeeze you too hard? Did I hurt the—”
I touch his cheek, laughing. “You felt the bump? It’s okay. You won’t hurt the baby.”
His brows knit together. “What about your back? How does your back feel?”
“Horny,” I blurt.
He barks out a laugh. “Is that so?”
“It is. And I’m not going to break from a few kisses. But this is really serious, Dante. I might die if you don’t take me upstairs right now and fuck me senseless.”
That gets another laugh out of him, but I keep my serious face on.
“I have a very serious medical condition which requires intense physical therapy. And special medicine. Maybe even—”
“No. Frankie. Don’t say it.”
“—an injection,” I finish.
I laugh as he shakes his head, then swoops me up in his arms, more gently this time. “That’s it,” he says warningly. “You’re going to get it for that horrible joke.”
“I can make up some more if it’ll help.”
He kisses me and carries me down the hall, then up the staircase. When we get to our room, he lays me on the bed and then steps back, eyes roving my body.
“Time to put your trust to the test.” His eyes gleam.
“Oh really.” My heart lurches excitedly.
He strips my blouse off, and then my bra. My nipples perk at the cool rush of air. Instead of tossing my shirt onto the floor like he usually does, Dante twists it into a rope.
“Put your hands against the headboard.”
I do as he asks and he binds my wrists to one of the carved wood bedposts with my shirt.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Very,” I purr. I’m antsy with anticipation. We’ve never had this kind of fun before.
His eyes never leave me as he works his tie free and then unbuttons his shirt.
I revel in the view as he strips the shirt off, slowly revealing every hard dip and rise of his perfect abdomen and chest. His biceps bulge as he slides the tie between his hands and brings it toward me.
I pull in a breath as he covers my eyes with the soft fabric and ties it snugly behind my head.
“Be a good girl and stay here,” he says. “Don’t wander off.”
“Yes, master,” I say teasingly.
I feel his body weight leave the bed. Moments pass, and my eagerness only builds, my insides getting hotter by the second.
My slim skirt feels overly restrictive now, considering my top half is bare.
Toeing off my shoes, I realize how gently my wrists are actually bound.
I could easily slip out of this if I wanted to.
But I don’t want to. I want to know what’s coming next.
Dante finally returns, and I hear his footfalls cross the bedroom floor. He sets something down on the bedside table, and I hear the rustling of clothing as if he’s finishing undressing.
Finally, his weight presses into the mattress next to me.
“Do you know how fucking hot it was to think of you up here,” he says, his voice a low growl in my ear, “bare breasted and tied up, just waiting for me to make you scream?”
“I—”
Suddenly, something ice cold presses against my nipple, and I shriek.
“Fuck, that’s cold!”
“Ice usually is,” Dante says, but before I can say anything else, his hot mouth closes over my nipple, warming it back up.
“Ahh, that’s good,” I gasp. “I forgive you.”
Dante swirls the cube around my taut flesh again.
This time I’m ready, and I let out a quiet hiss.
He teases me some more, alternating between cold ice and hot mouth, working me back and forth, again and again, until it’s impossible for me to lie still.
The dual sensations muddle my mind and I start begging for more.
“Good girl,” he says. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”
He puts the ice in his mouth and sucks my nipples, tonguing me roughly as he does.
“Fuck. Fuck yes,” I pant, writhing in my bonds, back arching up from the bed.
Each new wave of pleasure seems brighter, sweeter. His hands move over my body, my nerves super sensitive, every touch amplified. I’ve never felt anything so frustrating, but so good.
Finally, Dante rips my skirt off, slides my underwear down, and spreads my legs. Then he pushes into me, thrusting fast and hard, still working his cold-hot mouth over my breasts. His cock fills me so completely that I feel like I’m losing my mind.
“You’re mine. Mine!”
“Yes,” I murmur, my eyes squeezed shut beneath the blindfold. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I’m so turned on already, I know it won’t be long before I explode.
“Mine,” he says, over and over again.
Dante rides me to the cusp and then pulls back, slowing his pace each time my moans get too close together. I push my hips up, seeking more. He spears into me deep and then holds still, fully sheathed, taking my chin in his hand.
“Come for me, Frankie. Come now.”
At his words, I do. I feel myself shattering, clenching helplessly around his cock, my orgasm like a dam bursting, shivering as the shockwaves roll through me.
“Again,” he says, starting to thrust again, hard and fast, fucking me relentlessly until I can’t stop myself from climaxing a second time.
I’m gasping as I ride out the pleasure, so sweet it’s almost painful, until I can’t tolerate much more. But it feels so good…so, so good.
“One more time,” Dante says.
“I can’t,” I admit, still breathless. “It’s too much. I just need a minute.”
“Shh,” he soothes. “I’ve got something for you.”
Dante pulls out and moves, the hot tip of his cock bobbing against my lips. Opening for him, I suck him down as he pushes into my mouth, fucking my throat in short, quick strokes.
“Swallow it,” he commands. “All of it.”
“Mm-hmm,” I moan around my mouthful of thick cock.
He explodes down the back of my throat and I drink him down willingly, my body trembling with adrenaline and pleasure. Suddenly, the blindfold comes off and the soft lights assault my eyes. Squinting, I peer up at my husband.
He’s panting, a slow grin crossing his face. I know what he’s going to say.
“Oh no. Don’t say it—”
“You’ll need to repeat your treatment at least once a week. Doctor’s orders.”
I groan, pulling my hands out of the loose knot and shoving him in the chest. Laughing, Dante takes me in his arms and rolls over the bed with me.
“Turns out,” he says, kissing my temple, “good things happen when you trust me, too.”