Chapter 33
33
Dante
A ll the ways I wanted to prove my devotion are cut short when Valentine keeps calling my phone. The persistent interruption is just going to continue until I answer, and if he was alone, I would have answered on the first ring. But he’s not, which means he’s not in any danger.
“Yeah?”
“Busy?” he snaps.
I cast a look at Layne. Her lips are puffy and her thigh is resting between mine, our bodies as close as can be without me being inside her. But sometimes a fully dressed make-out session is just as sweet. Pretty sure I was just about to shoot my load by her grinding her hot body all over mine.
“Always busy, brother. What’s going on? Did everything go okay with Ronin?”
“Ronin is currently gaining altitude on his way back to Ireland with the package he wanted me to collect in his hand.”
“Yeah? What was it you had to get for him?”
“An urn.”
I hear Valentine’s resignation.
“Fuck me. Don’t tell me it was his sister’s.”
My stomach drops when I realize how close we came to a war in our world. Ronin would have done anything and everything to get this little sister’s urn back. She meant the world to him. And if I was in his shoes, I’d be as vicious as he clearly was.
The two men Valentine told us about, who were assassinated, got off pretty easy, since they’re already dead. For that bullshit to have happened here, as opposed to in Ireland, means alliances between enemies were being formed by a shared desire to get rid of a major player within the syndicates. In this case, Ronin.
“Val, you should be relieved he’s on his way home. What’s with your shitty mood?”
“Fucking Vitale. He’s up to something, I can feel it.”
“Okay,” I answer, just to let him know I’m listening. Val’s always been like that, but we all need our own versions of reassurance. The stunning woman under me is evidence of that.
“Is Layne with you?”
“Val, what’s going on?” I sit up, picking up on his worries. “You know she’s super safe. He can’t get her.”
“He’s up to something,” he repeats, and I can hear Matteo saying something in the background, but the radio is on in the car and the windows are down. “He wants to see us before the wedding dinner, insisting we be there before the other guests arrive. Sounds suspicious as fuck to me.”
“Yeah, well, he’s always up to something, but does it matter? We’re ready. As a pack, we are, and every minute, our connection with our wife gets better too.” I look down at her and see the way she melts as another of her doubts get extinguished. “Back to the most important thing—Layne is with me and she’s amazing.”
Valentine makes a noise in his throat, and then he starts thinking so hard, I hear it as easily as I hear the song on the radio. I nearly go back to kissing Layne, but Valentine probably knows that too and interrupts the moment. “Do you think she’ll be up for going out tonight?”
“Strange, considering you just said Vitale’s up to some shady shit, but I like the way you think,” I answer, and I do like the way he thinks. If we’re out and about, having a good time and ruling our world the way we want, it will be as obvious a sign as him setting up a meeting before our dinner. “Val, we’re still one step ahead of him and always will be. Everything is ready to go. Our people are loyal and they’re ready.”
Valentine exhales noisily. I’d put money on him wiping a hand down his face.
“Let’s take our wife dancing. Maybe see who can make her come the fastest, buy her some cocktails until she’s buzzed, and do some underhanded business that hurts Vitale’s bottom line,” I suggest, and I can hear him talking with Matteo about the idea.
“Sounds good. I’ll make some calls.” He hangs up before I can get in another word.
I drop my phone and pull Layne close again.
“We’re going out?” She looks so fucking innocent.
“We are. Now, do you want to go out knowing you’re going to come, or do you want to go out knowing you already have?”
The little spitfire taps her finger on her chin before she shimmies out of her gym shorts and hands them over.
“These seem unnecessary now. Why give them back to me?”
“I don’t know. You could tie my hands back or something,” she suggests sweetly, her eyes dilating, making them look like deep pools of caramel.
“What else were you thinking I could do?” I ask, stretching her arms back and doing exactly as she said. Her hands are clasped together, and the knot I used is super cumbersome, but it’s the thought.
“I’ll leave it to you.”
“Yeah, why’s that?”
“I trust you.”
“You do? Or are you saying what you think I want to hear?”
“Hmm, it seems this guy I met keeps pushing me to be better. He spoils me with his time, he’s got this incredible vibe, and he smells fucking tasty. I’m going to trust myself some more when it comes to him. Mostly.” She laughs.
And between the gym and now, I’m about to lick out a woman who’s figuring her shit out. There’s nothing more attractive. Although, that’s complete bullshit, since everything about her turns me on.
Flipping her over, so she’s up on all fours, I guide her hands to the bed frame and use the T-shirt I discarded earlier into a makeshift restraint that secures her in place. If she wanted, she could get out of it, but escaping is not what this is about.
Climbing off the bed, I reach over to grab my phone before sitting behind her.
“Look at this.” I lower myself to drag my tongue through her glistening folds. Her pussy is pink from all our bumping and grinding. “Just a quick taste, so I can focus. I need some before and after photos. That's okay, right, Layne? Can I take photos of your very pretty cunt?”
Her body goes from loose and relaxed to like I’m holding a live wire to her skin. A soft moan all but confirms I can. I use my fingers to spread her wide.
“Gonna send Val a quick Facetime of you getting ready,” I say, watching the way her body moves. Valentine answers, his hello getting lost when he sees what I’m doing.
“Jesus, Matteo, look at this.” Valentine growls, and then Matteo’s muffled groan gets drown out by the sound of him accelerating, hard. I hang up on them, not wanting to waste the time we have left before the rest of our pack gets home.
Except, first, I need a couple more photos. Spreading her wider, I snap a series of images, some with my tongue, others with three fingers buried deep. I probably should be recording the noises she makes, because that’s almost as good as the view.
“Dante,” she whimpers, her hips swaying in her need now. The perfume leaking from her is so strong, it’s like standing in the middle of the perfume counters at Macy’s. God, it has my cock aching, despite the medication she’s on. I want to see her wrap her lips around my cock, but first, I want to drink her come.
I press record before placing the phone under her, the angle just right so each time I lick her out, I can see her pretty cunt glossing my lips. Curling my tongue around her clit, I sink two fingers inside her body, driving them in deep before scissoring them out. She’s already so close, since I’ve been winding her up here for so long.
Spreading her ass cheeks wider, I bury my face in her pussy. It’s a gorgeous mess, and her body collapses forward, her knees dropping as she chases the final peak of her release. Of course, I find it for her, and I finger fuck her through her climax and straight onto her next one. The way she squeezes around me has my plans of feeding her my cock flying out the window.
“See what you do to me?” I grunt, fighting out of my training shorts, nearly snapping my cock in half when it gets caught.
She whimpers again, louder as I drag my cock over her pussy, rubbing all my pre-come over her pussy and her asshole, scent marking what is mine. I spit on her hole and use my thumb to tease her as I slam my cock in so hard, she cries out. But my wife is crying out for more; the desperation and wind up of our foreplay has her demanding my knot.
I drag my dick all the way out, ignoring her noisy pleas, then I drive myself back in. My ears turn off to her desperation, and I read her body instead. Because in the same way I know she’s already falling for us, I also know how much more pleasure she can take before she really does ache.
I grip her hips and we fuck nice and hard, smacking the headboard against the wall until the vixen plays dirty and somehow dips her hips lower, and I end up completely buried inside her.
There’s this moment of pure, inexplicable pleasure that robs me of spatial awareness, but it’s not a one-sided thing; I feel her right there with me. I feel the way she lets go, and by god, I definitely hear it when she cries out.
The noises, the moment, the way she makes me come has me roaring like a fucking jungle animal, emptying myself like a fucking brute in the very next breath.
“Best make-up sex ever.” She laughs, and I slap her ass, just ’cause I like hearing that gasp she makes.
“Not make-up sex…we weren’t fighting. Can’t wait till we do, though,” I say, giving her a couple of extra pumps of my hips, sinking deeper inside again.
To make a point.
And because she feels so fucking tight.
The club is busy. Bucks Fizz usually is.
Set up as an exclusive titty bar, the notoriety of potentially rubbing shoulders, or sucking the dick, of the infamous in our world has our floor packed. And since we like to make lots of money, we have a very gender balanced show, attracting not just men, but women too, along with all the colors of our designation flag.
We are inclusive in our exclusivity, which is not just our marketing by-line but our philosophy. Anyone being a judgmental prick is thrown out the back, taught some fucking respect against the dumpster, and never allowed to set foot in our club again.
Vitale fucking hates everything about Bucks Fizz. Almost as hard as we love it.
“How’s the new bar manager?” I ask the Beta who manages this business for us.
Like all our other enterprises, we generally hire people who we’ve grown up with or whose loyalty is uncompromising. Benedict, or Benny, grew up in Italy, but he fucked up spectacularly by screwing, and impregnating, his new stepmother, though neither of them were aware at the time of who was who. And she was apparently not his, according to Vitale.
Either way, the two of them ended up here, alive, with a burning hate for my grandfather, and clearly, we welcomed them both into our protective inner circle.
Relationships and connections in our world are so complex and complicated, but that has been our way since the first Family, and nothing was ever going to change or simplify it.
You seriously had to think fast—and trust. Speaking of trust, while Benny talks about turnovers and upcoming bookings, I look for my wife, finding her in a dark corner with Matteo.
From where they’re standing, it’s impossible for anyone on the dance floor, or even at the bar, to properly see what’s going on, but from my spot on the stairs, plus the way Layne keeps dropping her head, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out my wife is getting railed.
I look around for Valentine and find him sitting down at the bar, positioned so he can watch her. His eyes catch mine, and in the next moment, he’s leaping off his chair and I’m cutting Benny off mid-update. My brother and I are on a collision course in our rush to see who can get up the stairs first.
Valentine chuckles when he gets his foot on the step before I do, but we’re barely halfway up when our goddess appears.
“Come on, Alpha.” She looks at me, then Val. “You promised me dancing.” She laughs, her cheeks are rosy, she reeks of pleasure, and her cocktail glass is empty.
And, goddamn, her happiness is deeper than the buzz from the alcohol and a post-sex haze. She’s more on board with the concept of forever with our pack. Now our actions won’t be about making her stay; they’ll be about killing any cunt who tries to take her away from us.