40. Juliette
Juliette
T he ride home was silent and I wondered what he was thinking. There was no telling with Dante. I debated asking him to share his thoughts, but then I wasn’t quite sure that I wanted to know.
Somehow it felt like we were headed down the road that would be hard to turn back from. Not that I thought I’d had that choice. There was one thing that was certain in the Syndicate. Divorce wasn’t an option. Not that I wanted it. I actually enjoyed getting to know him.
“Just so we’re clear,” I broke the silence, unable to keep quiet any longer, “I’m not having kids. Not yet anyhow.” Dante shot me a look that didn’t reveal much. “I’m not Wynter. I refuse to be knocked up.”
“Okay.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Is that all you have to say on the matter?”
He shrugged. “As long as you’re happy. If you want kids, we’ll have them. If you don’t want them, we won’t have them. I’m good with either, as long as you are here with me.”
His words sent my heart flipping in my chest, and I had to stop myself from squealing with girlish delight. Nobody had ever been able to make me feel this with mere words.
“You’d seriously give up having children if that’s what I wanted?” He nodded. “But what’s your feeling on having children? Do you like them?”
He tilted his head, keeping his eyes on the road. For some reason, it felt so easy to talk to him. Whether it was because his attention was on the road or because it was him—I wasn’t sure.
“I like them,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“My childhood wasn’t the greatest. My mother was a shitty caretaker and hated us more than loved us.
” My eyes widened. “I think it’s important we both want them.
If we have kids, it’s a commitment. To give them happiness, safety, love. Everything a child should have.”
I swallowed. “Because you didn’t have that?”
I turned my head and met his gaze. My heart stilled and I knew the answer before he opened his beautiful lips.
“No.”
My hand flew to his and I squeezed it gently. “I’m sorry.” I meant it, too. No child should feel unloved. “And you’re right. It’s a commitment and a promise. I know you’ll be a great father one day.”
He took my hand and held it for the remainder of the drive home. It was quiet. It was comfortable. It felt safe.
As soon as we got inside, Dante headed straight upstairs.
I followed.
And it frightened me. It terrified me that I actually liked him. Two years of fighting this attraction, and now, I was spiraling out of control and craving him.
My muscles protested with each step, but for some silly reason, I refused to admit it. He was already at the top of the stairs and must have noticed or heard my grunt as I took the first step because he halted and turned around.
One look at me and he was stalking over, scooping me up into his arms in one swift move. Bridal style.
“A warm bath will help your aching muscles.”
“You are awfully fond of offering baths,” I remarked dryly. “Are you insinuating something?” He chuckled but didn’t answer, which had my eyes narrowing to slits. “Well, are you?”
I wanted to touch him, but I was too chicken to ask him. I hoped he’d offer to let me cuff him again so I could explore him. Every inch of him.
Kinky. Idiotic. Wrong.
It was all that, and yet, I still wanted it. With me in his arms, he climbed the stairs and headed through our bedroom and into the bathroom. My palm pressed on his chest, feeling for his strong heartbeat, but his breathing never changed. Like I weighed nothing.
Once in the bathroom, he gently lowered me to the edge of the bathtub, then started removing my shoes.
His focus was entirely on the task at hand. He removed my sock from one foot, then the other. Next my pullover followed, then my undershirt.
“Lift your butt,” he instructed and I did as he asked.
He shimmied my yoga pants down my legs. Then he reached for my bra and unclipped it.
Goosebumps broke over my skin and a shudder rolled down my spine.
My breathing hitched, and suddenly the ache of my muscles was the last thing on my mind.
All I could focus on was the dull ache between my legs.
He let out a tired sigh. “I’m not going to take advantage of you.”
He misread my body’s reaction to him.
“Dante?”
“Hmmm.”
His eyes remained focused on the task at hand as he helped me with my panties. But he made a point of not staring at my pussy. If he had, he’d notice the glistening arousal.
He reached over me and turned the tap on the slightest bit, testing the water on his wrist. Once he was satisfied it was the right temperature, he let it fill the tub.
He reached over my head for the bath products and retrieved one, leisurely pouring it into the water.
“Take a bath with me,” I offered.
His eyes came to rest on my face, studying me. I squirmed under his scrutiny, feeling vulnerable completely naked while he was fully dressed. He watched me in silence, and just as I thought he’d deny me, he stood up and started shedding his clothes.
He pulled his shirt over his head, slowly and with utter confidence, then discarded it onto the floor right on top of my clothes. The firm chest with lean muscles I hadn’t seen in almost a week came into full view and I couldn’t help but shiver.
He was fit and well-built, but it was that predatory strength underneath his lean frame that appealed to me.
He was sun-kissed, even in the middle of winter, and my fingers itched to trail over his body.
His fingers worked on his belt next and my gaze was unapologetically glued to his masculine beauty.
I had never felt this desire with anyone before. Never felt this secure.
It should have alarmed me but it didn’t. After all, no other man had ever offered to cuff himself for me.
He slid his sweatpants down firm thighs, leaving him standing in only black boxers. Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I waited with anticipation for his boxers to go. By the time he removed them, I quivered with need.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
His cock was hard and thick, ready for me.
Arousal shot through me and my thighs clenched with anticipation.
“You still good with me taking a bath with you?” I couldn’t answer, my eyes locked on his massive length. “I could grab the cuffs,” he offered.
A choked laugh escaped me trying to envision that scenario. His cock twitched as if that little member liked the sound of my voice. It was the most ridiculous thought.
“Yes?”
I nodded, and when he went to move and I realized he thought I meant the cuffs, I quickly stopped him, saying, “Forget the cuffs.”
My voice was breathless. Raspy.
I lifted my eyes up his body, locking with his twin pools of desire to ensure he knew I meant it. I shifted in the large tub so he’d have room to join me. Dante smiled and something in his dark gaze lit up. Lethally. Possessively.
“Any neutral zones in the tub I need to know about?” he asked, semi-seriously.
“No.”
“That was so the answer I was going for,” he drawled, his smile promising something deliciously naughty.
He joined me in the tub, his big body taking most of the space.
“Come here.” He reached his hand to help me into the tub and settle me, then placed it around my waist to pull me into him. His arms were taut, steady, and strong around me as he lifted me and brought me to sit between his legs.
My back to his chest, his muscular legs spread on each side of me, it felt like a warm cocoon. His strong fingers came to my shoulders and rubbed long circles with tenderness. A sigh left my lips and my eyelids fluttered shut as I settled deeper into him.
“Your shoulders are tense.”
My muscles loosened with every passing second and his touch was so soothing that I leaned forward, giving him better access to my back.
“That feels good,” I admitted. “You definitely know how to use those expert fingers.”
His dark chuckle filled the space. “Happy to be of service.”
Every inch of my body was alight with a buzz that refused to go away. It heightened higher and higher, building in pressure. I leaned back, wanting his closeness. His warmth.
“Should I go lower?” Dante’s voice was in my ear, his mouth brushing against my earlobe.
My legs opened of their own accord, although it wasn’t what he was asking. I needed to feel his fingers on my sensitive core, to ease this throbbing.
“Yes, please,” I breathed, rubbing my legs against his muscular inner thighs. I wanted to touch him. I needed him to touch me.
Dante’s fingers seemed to be everywhere all at once as he inched lower, over my breasts, brushing over my nipple, pinching it until it was taut, then rolling it between his thumb and index finger. My moan echoed in the silence of the bathroom, vibrating against the tiled walls.
My head fell back against his shoulder.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered in my ear, continuing his assault on my nipple. “I love seeing pleasure on your face.” My core throbbed. My thighs were shaking. A burning sensation traveled through my veins. “I love seeing happiness on your face too.”
Something about his admission had my chest swelling with some fluttering feelings. I had never craved anyone but this man. It felt good giving in to this need. I just hoped it wouldn’t steer me wrong.
My hand lowered into the bathwater, inching closer to my sex. I needed to come. So desperately. My fingers brushed against my clit and another moan filled the air. Whimpering. Needy.
“I want to watch you finger yourself,” Dante rasped in my ear, his big hands kneading my breasts. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my back, needy. Just like my pussy.
My cheeks turned crimson at the explicit images those words painted in my head.
“Me too,” I whimpered, rubbing my fingers faster and harder against my clit.
He stilled. I did too. Like we were two bodies, driven by the same need.
“Now?” he asked, tentatively.
“Yes.”
The words were barely out of my mouth when he stood up and lifted me into his arms.
His mouth never left mine as he strode into our bedroom, our bodies slick from water.