8. Ilaria
8
ILARIA
S tepping out of the shower, I realized that I had nothing to wear too brunch.
I couldn’t wear my clothes from last night and though, I did have an extra pair of underwear in my gym bag, that didn’t help my current state of being naked.
Groaning in annoyance, I headed to his closet, flicking through rows of suits. I rolled my eyes at just how predictable Dante was.
90% of his closet was black suits in various styles and patterns, mostly black dress shirts with the exception of a few crisp white ones were hung on wooden hangers. He had a section of his closet dedicated to gym clothes and a couple pairs of jeans that looked like they had never been worn.
How terribly boring this man was.
I tugged down one of his sweatshirts, pulling that on before grabbing the emergency makeup bag I kept stashed in my bag.
I didn’t pretend to be an all natural girl and had no problem doing my makeup without having proper clothes to wear with it. At least one part of me would look put together.
“Honey, I’m home.”
Dante thought he was funny. I could hear it in his voice and it took everything in me to not call him by another man’s name just to piss him off but, since we had a meeting with our fathers and had to discuss this engagement I knew it was best to play nice.
And nice people didn’t insult their fiancée by calling them by their ex’s name, unfortunately.
Dante was setting down a coffee tray as I walked into the room, his eyes glancing up for a second before stopping what he was doing and staring at me.
He was in gray sweatpants, like he was playing the role as the Devil’s cat nip, and a black fitted t-shirt from when he had been trying to workout earlier.
Casual looked good on Dante even though I was sure that he didn’t do it enough.
“Is that my hoodie?” He was staring at me, eyes glued to me.
I slid onto one of the stools in front of him as I nodded my head in confirmation to his question and reached for the coffee he had brought. He let out a breath as I looked over my shoulder to see what his problem was.
“The two iced are yours. The one with the straw in it is your iced coffee, the one without is a latte. I’m going to shower.” He muttered, sounding annoyed.
He was walking away from me as I frowned at him, looking at the bags that were on the counter.
“What are the other bags?” I called out to him, noticing that there was more than my liquid breakfast.
He stopped like he forgot about them, his eyes focused on me like he didn’t want to tell me what was in the bags, just managing to piss me off more.
I don’t like this aloof side of Dante. How he seems to be wrestling with something and not wanting to tell me things. It’s making me feel off balanced.
When he doesn’t answer me right away I look inside and turn to see him frowning at me.
“You bought me clothes? That feels creepy.” He threw his hands up, turning to walk away from me.
Some part of me is absolutely delighted to see him this exasperated by me. He’s thrown off and I like that I’ve unsettled him a bit.
“The words you were looking for were ‘Thank You’, princess.” he yelled as he vanishes into the ensuite. Rolling my eyes, I reach out sipping on the coffee he got me.
At least he had gotten me the right coffee order.
I finish the coffee in the kitchen as I texted a few of my friends, making plans for the July 4th weekend.
Usually on Saturday’s the girls and I would meet for dinner and drinks, usually some form of debauchery but since I couldn’t because of the opening night of Dante’s Inferno, I had to let them down which no one appreciated.
My girlfriends are close.
We had met in college and all had been through a lot of each other’s lives. We were each other’s cheerleaders, therapists, and sisters. There were five of us in total and it was always a scene when we were together because one of us needed attention.
And now they were begging to get invited to the opening of the club that I had told them I was going to, which I wasn’t sure Dante could handle. I wasn’t sure if they could handle it.
How the fuck was I supposed to tell all my friends I was engaged?
There would be so many questions and they would look at me crazy if I told them about a marriage contract.
But they deserved to find out before they saw it in a magazine or online somewhere. I was sure we would have to do an engagement photoshoot this weekend and in Monday’s Boston Globe we would have a full page engagement announcement out.
I held up my hand, frowning at the lighting as I walked closer to the windows to get the picture to send to them. The ocean behind my hand as I snapped a picture of the engagement ring, texting the group chat to rip off this bandaid.
I got the invite because I’m engaged to the owner
I tossed my phone like it was a bomb on the couch, turning as I heard the buzzing of calls and texts coming in from my friends. My coffee was gone, so I grabbed the latte and the bag, headed to Dante’s room to get dressed.
The dress was a silk halter top style with lace trim on the edges. Sage green silk with pink watercolor floral pattern and white strap sandal heels to match.
If Dante had picked this out himself he had done a good job. Except for the fact that the dress was cut so it was backless and there was no way that I could wear a bra in it.
It would have to be fine, there was no choice but it to be fine. I wasn’t going to be a bitch to Dante when he had gone out of his way to take care of me.
I pulled my hair into a low back bun as Dante stepped out of the shower, a towel slung low over his waist.
It was unfair that Dante was built the way he was.
Tall and thick muscled, even his thighs flexed under the towel and I knew my eyes were looking at more than I should be.
“Like what you see, princess?” His voice was laced with a smirk as I glared at him, hating that he caught me staring.
“Mhh, your fuck boy energy really gets me going, Demon. Almost as much as the cheap dress you bought me that I can’t wear a bra with. You think your dad will stare at my tits as much as you?” His eyes were on fire as he looked down at my chest.
My hands slid down my side as I kept up eye contact with him, daring him to do something.
But Dante was a good boy, he wouldn’t touch me because he cared about what people thought. He wanted me to be a virgin on our wedding night.
He would keep up with traditions.
The sick fuck probably got off on the idea of getting to be the first inside me.
“Stop.” The one word had me ready to keep going.
I was going to drive him crazy.
There was no way I was going to listen to him.
Seeing him standing there, only a towel on as the heat rose in the room. It was feeding my energy, making me act this way for him. I wanted Dante’s attention, positive or negative. But the way he looked at me now, whatever the fuck that was I could survive on it.
“No.”
My one word made him step closer to me, seeming to have to physically restrain himself from coming closer as I slid back, letting myself fall to the bed.
My breasts bounced as he groaned out, watching the sway of them under the thin fabric of the dress. If he wanted a show, I’d happily be his entertainment for the morning.
My hands skimmed up my thighs, dragging the dress higher until I let it rest on the top of my legs. I like the attention and make sure that as my hands slid over my hips, rising to my waist until I used just my fingertips to slide up, over the sides of my breasts that I’m making him want me.
Dante’s eyes are on me as I circle my breasts, hands coming around to cup them in my hands. The weight of his desire filling the room.
I didn’t have any experience outside of my own bedroom and some fumbled mishaps in cars with boys when I was a teenager but something about the way Dante’s eyes burned watching me had my heart racing and pushing in.
I want him to keep looking at me like that.
Pushing my thumbs up I let them stroke over my nipples, feeling them tighten, hardening through the silk of the dress. My thighs instinctively pushed together as I let out a sound I hadn’t made before from the feel of my fingers.
Dante’s lips part as he watches me on his bed. This tortured expression on his face as he watches me stroking my nipples, up and down.
I had to pull it together before it went too far. I just needed to give him enough that he was hooked.
Sitting up, I ignored the throbbing between my legs. The sticky feeling making me flush as I tried to act like what I had done didn’t bother me in the least bit.
How Dante was watching me had made me crave his touch with such a desperate want.
Instead, I go to grab my latte. Sealing a look in the mirror as I straighten out my dress, meeting Dante’s eyes in the mirror as he watches me.
“Now everyone can see how you dress your goomar.” My words come out of my mouth before I can even think of stopping them.
Not that I would even try.
I need some sense of distance with him. Especially right now where my head is swimming with emotions for him.
Dante’s eyes flash at my words and I feel him, pressing me against his body, his hand snaking around my waist so that he can hold me in place. He is looking down at me but I am trying not to meet his eyes.
His hand comes up, cupping my chin between his fingers as he tilts it, forcing my eyes up to meet him. The pair of us look at each other for a beat.
There’s a challenge like a drumbeat passing between us. Both of us just waiting to see where it goes.
“You’re my fiancée, principessa .” He has a tone of warning as he holds my face in his hands so I am still stuck against him.
Part of me wants to fight him harder. Morbid curiosity to see what he will do and to know how much control he needs to have. But I keep still for him.
Dante’s eyes narrow as he leans in closer to me to speak, “And I’m smart enough to keep my goomar in another state so you two won’t have to fight on the streets.” My eyes widen at his words and suddenly I was struck by insecurity.
Did he really have someone else?
He wouldn’t be the first made man to have a mistress. And just because he told me to get rid of Justin doesn’t mean that he is going to do the same thing with his own affairs.
Made men only stay loyal to the family . Not their own family.
My stomach ached with the thought of my marriage being a triangle of people. I would just be the one who would be making babies and another woman would get all of my husbands affection.
I guess that’s just how things were done.
Dante lets me go, turning to go get dressed as I stand there wondering what I had just done and feeling every bit the fool I was.