Chapter 22
22
Layne
D ante takes us back to the kitchen, ignoring his brother’s hard glare and Matteo’s worry, to put me on a stool. Edward and Bella trot over, double-checking with their wet noses I’m okay.
The room is nice and warm, the lights are on low, and the aroma of garlic, spices, and something roasting in the oven has my stomach growling.
“Val, do you have any food for Layne ready? I need to get changed and run her a bath.” Dante doesn’t wait before he leaves.
“You good?” Matteo asks quietly as he passes, following Dante out the room.
“Yes, I promise. I am fine. No harm.”
Valentine steps into view, still wearing his suit. “Did he upset you?”
“Dante? No, honestly. We chatted, and he actually rubbed my ribs down, and you know, shoved a wedding ring onto my finger.”
Valentine does a slow exhale, relief on every one of his harsh angles. It’s a very weird place to be—not in his kitchen or his house, but inside his inner circle. I know he and Dante and Matteo are heavily involved in organized crime, but I haven’t seen that in spades. Without question, I can tell that he could flip his lid and be a coldhearted bastard, but inside the safety of his home, with his pack around him, he’s not like that.
He puts his back to me, turning again with the bunch of flowers he was holding in an elegant glass vase. In typical Valentine style, he slides it over the counter toward me.
“I did want to give you these before. I know it was a big decision to come back to us. Thank you,” he says, muddling my stereotyped assumptions even more.
“You’re welcome.” I drop my eyes from his. Both he and his brother have deeply expressive eyes. “These are very pretty. What are they?”
“White lilies. Very symbolic of faith and hope in our culture, and they’re given as a symbol of appreciation.”
Matteo comes back in with a hoodie in his hands that he drops over my shoulders. “Layne, I need to go out for a few hours. Will you be okay here with Valentine and Dante?”
And there is no hesitation at all when I answer him. I can see him arguing with himself about how to leave, but he eventually chooses to go without a kiss.
During that time, Valentine does the unthinkable and removes his suit jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up. The way he flicks his tie over his shoulder and secures it under his shoulder holster has me holding on to the edge of the bench, trying to stop myself from climbing my husband like a goddamn tree.
I cross my legs, twisting my foot around my calf, like ivy, hoping to keep the proof of how good he looks to myself. Dante walks back in, his eyebrows up high, a dangerous, knowing smirk on his face, but instead of calling me out, he gets to work and helps Valentine serve dinner.
But seeing the twins together doesn’t help in the least. If anything, it makes my situation ten times worse.
“Are you hungry?” Valentine asks, mid-serve.
“Yes, Val, our little wife is ravenous.”
Valentine twists to look at his brother, a flash of violence in his eyes that only encourages Dante until my stomach makes a gurgle so loud, Edward stands up and looks around.
Within a moment, I have an enormous plate of food in front of me, along with sparkling water and a glass of red wine. The food looks like it comes from a restaurant, but the pots and pans overturned on the drainer suggest one of them is responsible.
“Start eating, please,” Valentine insists. “Porchetta stuffed with mushrooms, fennel, and rosemary, with garlic potatoes and sautéed beans.”
I don’t start, because that is next-level rude. I wait until both of them have a plate and are sitting before I even make a move to pick up my knife and fork. They wait, watching until I take a bite before they start to eat. It only confirms what I had figured out already—the members of Pack De Luca were raised by someone with a firm hand, instilling manners in them. I’d put money on it not being Vitale.
Part way through, a small buzzer goes off, and Dante excuses himself but reappears within a couple of minutes. And then we chat about small stuff, like what we eat for breakfast, the last movie we saw, and it only adds to a growing realization of how easily we fit together.
I’ve barely finished when Dante hops up to his feet. “Bath, then bed. Tomorrow morning, we can talk about your past. You are dead on your feet,” he says to me, before looking at Valentine, “and you’re late. You have thirty minutes until the meeting starts.”
“You should have told me,” I reply. “I would have been fine to eat on my own.”
“No. They can wait.”
Dante closes his eyes in frustration before he bypasses Valentine and looks at me. “Valentine and I are both going out. Matteo is doing something else, but Vitale has called us in, along with the other family heads. We can’t not attend. It will look bad. Keep the dogs with you. The whole house is a fortress, and I will activate the security system as soon as we get in the elevator. Will you be okay if we go?”
“Yes,” I answer quickly, because I will be. I feel safe in their home.
“This is not the life I want for you,” Valentine snaps, filling his glass and holding a fierce look.
“Okay.” I shake my head, burying the sting of his words.
Dante chuckles while shoving his brother. “ Testa di cazzo . Explain yourself better. Honestly, Val, it’s lucky we share a brain, because sometimes you leave out some pretty important details when you talk to people. Communication is not your forte.”
Valentine scowls before he rethinks, a dawning on his face. “Dante is right—I was being a dickhead, and I will do better. My comment about not wanting this life for you means I want you out with us. If we go out at night, we go together.”
“And I won’t get in the way?”
“My issue isn’t you being able to look after yourself, Layne. It is protecting you from what we’re about to do.”
“And what is that?”
“Ripping the fucking crown off Vitale’s head and drowning all his supporters in blood before we take what is rightfully ours.”
My mouth falls open at his sudden and abrupt confession. Probably because I wasn’t expecting them to tell me. Which is a me issue and not a them issue, because from the start, they have said they need me for that very reason. I just got waylaid by the pretty packaging and the yummy scents. Even though I knew they were born of this world, it still takes me by surprise.
“And when are you doing this?”
After Valentine's sudden explosion, he seems calmer, even though he smiles at me like a crocodile. “At our wedding reception dinner.”
“Before or after dessert?”
Dante laughs so loud and abruptly, he makes me jump before he points down the hall. “Bath. Now. When we get home, I’ll come get you.”
“What? Why?”
But he refuses to answer. We get interrupted when both their phones start blowing up with messages and calls.
“Thanks for giving me today,” I say before ducking away and leaving them to do their thing.
Before leaving, Valentine talks through the door, letting me know the security system is on, and he leaves a note on my bed. I don’t hop out of the tub right away; I soak for at least an hour, even topping up the hot water a few times. Once I am so pruned, I’m worried my skin will never recover, I send Edward out to double-check the apartment. It’s weird to feel as comfortable as I do in their home, but I have been in a lot worse situations and survived just fine.
Edward trots back in after doing his check as I finish my face, using the expensive face creams I snuck back in to grab from the other bathroom attached to the Omega suite. The twins or Matteo must have put the heat on because my room is toasty warm. I climb into bed with just my panties on and read Valentine’s note, which isn’t anything exciting, just telling me what doors will sound the alarm and which ones I can open.
Being relaxed and warm after the bath lulls me into sleepy comfort. I switch off the light and roll over, drifting off almost immediately.
Except, instead of crashing into a dreamless sleep, I hover in light rest. One of the dogs jumps into alert mode and goes out to greet the elevator before I hear the guys arrive back, and then I can hear them talking quietly in the kitchen by the time Edward returns.
Then the noises of the night, the hum of activity ends. Except, I still can’t sleep at all, because every time I close my eyes, I see Valentine with his sleeves rolled up. Or it’s Dante in those tight, white, tiny briefs of his, or I’m getting caught in a visceral memory of Matteo claiming me with his public and steamy kiss in front of the coffee shop. Dipping my fingers into my panties, I’m not surprised I’m soaked, but as soon as I start to touch myself, I know I’m not going to come. The ache is deeper, and pleasuring myself won’t even scratch the top of it. I need dick.
Even when I pinch my nipples and squeeze my clit, the only thing my brain can focus on is the fact that there are very available men in this house with me, and all I need to do is ask. Thinking of Valentine and the way he went down on me in the kitchen has my pussy tingling, and Matteo and I have already made out a few times, so the obvious answer to my dilemma is Dante.
“Stay,” I whisper at the dogs.
I make a slow and cautious creep down the hallway, and my heart flies to my throat when someone’s shower starts. Then I nearly die when Dante walks past where I’m hiding as he heads toward the kitchen. Since his door is open, I run on the quietest feet and all but fly into his bed the second I see it.
Squeezing my eyes shut, the tension as I hear him walking back has me rubbing my legs together to ease the build-up of pressure or burning anticipation. I stop breathing when the door closes softly.
He prowls. There is no way to describe the way the atmosphere and even the air pressure drops to accommodate him. Instead of climbing into bed like a normal person, Dante comes up from the bottom, but being Dante, he’s quick to make a dramatic entrance, too, diving under the covers. He has his phone for some reason, the torch light is on and it sets the mood perfectly.
His teeth bite down on the arch of one of my feet, then he licks higher up my leg. Every few inches, he bites my flesh before he licks and sucks the sting away. Since I’m hiding under the blankets still, I can see the near reflection in his eyes when he comes up high enough.
He doesn’t talk. It’s pretty clear why I’m here, but in case this smart man has suddenly turned stupid on me, I spread my legs as wide as they will go. Dante drops his phone on the sheets, the light on, and neither of us could ever say we didn’t consent.
He nods, a small grin on his face before he dips down, his eyes still locked on mine, as he holds the edge of my panties to the side and closes his mouth over my pussy. He doesn’t waste a second and drives his tongue all the way inside me, licking me out very, very fucking dirty.
I last all of a second before I am shoving the blankets off the both of us, chased by a sudden desperation for more. I leap at him, but he catches me and holds me to his chest, calming the urgency with his presence and scent. Holding me until the franticness in me settles back down, he moves both of us until I’m sitting on the edge of the mattress. He stands between my legs.
Dante threads one hand in my hair before he drags me closer. He’s as wound up and as ready as I am, the head of his cock glossy with pre-come when he swipes the head over my face. My tongue chases the flavor he leaves, but now is not the time for enjoying foreplay.
A gentle shove to my shoulder, and I fall backward. He follows me down with his top half leaning up, so he can look at me as he rubs himself through my folds. My breath shudders out, his scent raining down as he teases me with only the first inch of his cock. Boy, does he know what to do with it too, and even though he’s only toying with my entrance, I feel myself get wetter.
Dante is enjoying the intimacy as much as I am. He groans loudly, the sound deep and rumbly. I feel it against my skin like a twist of his fingers. And I need more. More of him and more of the noises he makes.
I’m pretty sure I could come just listening to the sensual sounds he makes. Maybe one day I’ll test the theory, but not today. My hips rise and my slick makes our bodies glide together so effortlessly, and it’s so right, I feel it physically but also deeper.
He shows off his strength and control by taking his time as he fills me, making the stretching burn of our carnal joining last.
With his hips pressed to mine and his cock deep inside, his noises are like a serenade. He leans down, his tongue filling my mouth, and he groans in appreciation as he tastes himself on my lips.
I expected hard and fast from him—I wanted that too—but Dante ruins me in the way he moves his body with torturously deliberation, his hips swirling as he makes sure I feel every glorious inch of him, then drags his entire length out with the same maddening slowness.
It’s like an erotic dance. He leads and I follow, and I come alive under him as he kisses and bites, licks and sucks, gives and takes. Spreading my legs wide, his hands clamping my thighs down, he starts to move in and out faster. But each time he’s in as far as he can go, he flicks his hips, rubbing his knot against my pussy, teasing and coaxing my body to open up and take him.
The feeling of him inside me is indescribable; the way it makes me feel is nothing short of desperate.
Dante leaves a trail of wicked kisses and nipping bites from my mouth to the special spot on my throat reserved for bonding marks. He circles my clit with one of his fingers in leisurely strokes, in complete contrast to the way he works his mouth over my throat, simulating a bite. When he bites down hard enough to leave a bruise, my back arches off the bed and his knot surges inside my pussy. Pleasure explodes, prisms of light dancing over my eyes, and I survive on sour cherry kisses that push air into my lungs.
Keeping us locked together, he wraps my legs around his waist before he rolls onto his back and makes me ride him. Each time I move, his knot rubs over my clit, his cock hits deeper, and my orgasm isn’t a climax to my pleasure—it’s a beginning.
I come, my pussy clamping down on him so tight that he grunts each time he thrusts, but he doesn’t let the rolling orgasm go. He winds it up higher, twisting my nipples and filling my mouth with his tongue.
I can feel how close he is to coming, and I can see it. His eyes are hooded low and full of desire, his carnal want making him even more unbelievably attractive.
His muscles ripple, but I can feel the tautness in them too, like they’re about to snap. I move my hips, chasing more pleasure for both of us, grinding my pussy harder against his knot until he clamps his hands on my hips, stopping me from moving, before he thrusts upward, harder, deeper.
I hold on, succumbing to the crashing waves, the tides of pleasure as Dante uses my body in such a beautiful way. It’s no one-sided affair. I bear down on him, leaning over and biting his throat, both of us trembling and covered in a sheen that reeks of us and sex.
I’m trembling, lost in a haze of almonds and sour cherries, the sounds we make echoing around the room. He locks his arms around my back, holding me tight against him as he comes so hard, I feel each time he empties himself. My cunt continues to spasm and pulse around him, eager and desperate for this never to end, but he ignores my whining, rocking us slowly, guiding us back down to earth.