Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Dante
A better man wouldn’t have let things go as far as they did.
Ever since Tatiana has learned why her parents are dead, she’s hated me.
Our sex turned from gentle to sadistic. She wouldn’t let me touch her in any way that reminded her of the past. Doing so now, when she can’t remember that she didn’t want me to go back to the way I used to love her body, is a low move.
But for all my famed willpower, I couldn’t stop her.
I missed what we’d shared in those early days too much. After the first time I took her, her pleasure quickly became my drug. Having her once was never enough. I always needed more. I live by a simple motto—all or nothing. And with Tatiana, nothing was never an option. It had to be all.
Everything.
Forever.
I always knew she’d destroy me if I gave her the chance.
Maybe that’s why I held back, why I never said the words she wanted to hear.
Besides, I’m not a man who believes in love.
I believe in cold, hard facts, and the cold, hard truth is that Tatiana has always belonged to me.
The how doesn’t matter. It makes no difference if she’s mine with hate and sadistic pleasure or in submitting to me with affection.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
Still, as I watch her dry her hair in the bathroom after our shower, guilt slithers into my conscience.
I warned her. I took advantage of her and the situation. Yet how can I tell her that she hates me when her mind is already in a fragile place? How can I come clean when the ugliness of our history will only set her back more?
Fuck.
For all I know, it’s that same traumatic history that sparked her memory loss. I want her to heal more than anything. Although, when she does… Jesus. How will she look at me after what I just did in my study? I can only hope she would’ve softened up to me by then.
And if she doesn’t remember…
I brush my wet hair back from my face.
Then Lee will never be avenged. Everything I’ve fought so hard for will be lost, and Leander will win.
I can’t let that happen. But I also don’t want to go back to how things were between us before Tatiana lost her memory. I’m caught between a rock and a hard place.
I guess I just have to keep my eye on the ball.
I have to locate the necklace. If Leander finds it before I do, it’s over.
He’ll sell the diamonds and buy himself an army and weapons.
I could always snuff him out now, but where’s the justice in that?
Death is too easy for him. He needs to suffer.
He needs to remember why he’s slowly rotting away, disintegrating into an inconsequential memory.
“Dante?”
I look up and catch Tatiana’s haunting green eyes in the reflection of the mirror.
She lets her gaze travel over me, stopping at the towel that’s wrapped around my waist. “The ink… it’s new.”
My voice is hoarse from self-restraint. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to reach for her. “Yes.”
“I like it.”
I chuckle. “That’s lucky for me.”
Her cheeks flush a little. “How long do we have before Noah and Jazz get back?”
“A few minutes.”
“I know we just showered…” She cuts herself short and bites her lip.
“But?”
She shrugs out of her bathrobe, letting it fall on the floor.
I clench my jaw. Hard. “Tatiana.” The sight of her naked has always tormented my cock, which, predictably, rises to the occasion.
She bends over, steadying herself with her hands on the vanity, and pushes out her ass.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t repeat mistakes twice. I’ve just been mentally flogging myself over taking advantage of her, but my brain short-circuits every time her clothes come off. She’s offering herself. Only to me. No one else will touch her. Not like this. I’ll make sure of that.
Possessiveness propels me forward.
Dropping the towel, I stop behind her. “Who do you belong to, Tatiana?”
She doesn’t answer, enraging the beast by taunting me.
I cup her soft hips. “You’re playing a dangerous game, wife.”
The way she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip is shy and innocent.
The woman in front of me reminds me of the woman I claimed five years ago, but a bit of the new Tatiana shines through.
The old Tatiana wouldn’t have been so bold.
We never got to the stage where she made the first move, and it’s fucking driving me wild.
I cup her pussy to test how ready she is for me lest I lose every shred of the little control I have left and impale her on my cock before I’ve prepared her.
As it turns out, she’s soaking wet.
Goddamn.
She makes me lose my mind.
Twisting her hair around my fist, I tug her head up so she faces me in the mirror. “What do you want, Tatiana?”
I can’t stop saying her name. For five long years, I haven’t spoken it once. As long as I couldn’t say it to her in person, I refused to utter it out loud. It was the carrot I dangled in front of my face, a sick motivation compelling me to find her.
Now that I have, I can’t get enough of the sound of it, of the way my tongue caresses the syllables, the way her breath catches on a hitch every time I call her by her name when I’m preparing to fuck her.
Her brazen gaze meets mine. “Do whatever you want.”
That used to be her code for kinky play. She could never ask me outright for what she wanted. She’d been too shy. But she trusted me to know what she needed.
“You sure about that?” My voice drops an octave. “Do you think your pussy can handle it?”
She turns wetter in my palm. I won’t even need a lubricant.
Her beautiful jade-colored eyes flare when I pick up her hairbrush. I don’t tell her not to move. I press a hand between her shoulder blades, keeping her down, because that’s what she wants. She wants me to take control. All of it.
My command is authoritative. “Spread your legs.”
She obeys without hesitation, lifting her ass higher.
“Good girl.” I smooth the flat end of the brush over her ass cheek. “You are my good girl, aren’t you? Or have you been bad? Do I need to punish you?”
She shakes her head as much as my hold allows.
“Relax,” I coax.
She obliges by resting her cheek on the counter.
“That’s my girl.”
I remove my hand from between her legs so I can enjoy the view. She’s perfect, right down to her toes.
“I’m going to watch, so show me what a good girl you can be for me and keep still.”
She swallows, looking over her shoulder as I tease her pussy lips with the handle of the brush. When I part her with the makeshift dildo, a moan falls from her lips. She would’ve arched her back if I weren’t holding her down.
“Naughty.” I click my tongue and stop. “You moved.”
“No, please. I’ll keep still.”
I slip the handle in all the way, watching as her pussy swallows it.
She clenches her thighs, trying hard not to move.
I pump a few times, doing nothing other than getting her wetter.
The handle is too thin to stretch her. She won’t get off like this, but it turns her on.
I can tell by the wet sounds the improvised toy makes as I play with her.
She grips the counter until her fingertips turn white, her chest rising and falling as her breathing turns into panting.
I pull the brush out and press the flat side on her clit. “Who do you belong to, Tatiana?”
“Ah.”
I drop the brush and lock my fingers on her hip. Without warning, I shove my dick all the way in, filling her to the brim.
She makes a mewling sound.
Wrapping my free hand around her neck, I pull her up and press her back against my chest. I hold her like that, brushing my lips over her ear and jaw before kissing her neck.
“Who do you belong to?”
She gasps when I bend my knees and thrust. I look at her in the mirror, see how the action bounces her tits.
Again.
And again.
I pull almost all the way out and slam back in as I shackle her to me, making her watch as I slide in and out between her spread legs, claiming every inch of her tight pussy.
“Dante.”
I slow my pace. “Who?”
“You,” she cries out. “Oh, God, please. You.”
I reward her for giving me the right answer by pressing the heel of my palm on her clit. I keep my hand around her neck, forcing her to witness the ecstasy that twists her features as I make her come. Her breaths and pleasure are mine. She gives them to me freely, falling apart in my arms.
When I’ve taken care of her, I chase my own release. Seeing that I’ve climaxed a few minutes ago, it takes longer this time. My body demands a harsher rhythm. Her tits and ass jiggle from the force with which I slam my groin against hers. Every stroke I beat out spells one word.
Mine.
By the time I finish inside her, her pussy must be raw. But I don’t pull out. Not yet. I grip her chin and turn her face so I can kiss her. It’s a long and leisurely kiss. Her lips are red and swollen when I finally let her breathe.
She catches my gaze when I pull out.
I press a last soft kiss on her lips. “Don’t move.”
After wetting a washcloth with warm water, I clean between her legs.
“Are we trying for another baby?”
Her words catch me off guard. I still in the middle of wiping my cum from her thighs. When I meet her eyes in the mirror, she’s contemplating me with a sober expression.
She shrugs a shoulder. “We’re not using protection.” Following the gesture up with a frown, she continues, “I’m not on the pill, am I?”
“No.” My tone is clipped. “You’re not.”
Instead of telling her that this was a war between us, I rinse the cloth and dump it in the basin.
It started out as her telling me sex between us wouldn’t happen again and me proving to her we’d never stop.
I like the idea of putting another baby in her, maybe a little too much.
Noah is almost five. It’s time to think about giving him a brother or sister.
But under the circumstances? With Tatiana’s condition, that may not be such a good idea.
Strike that. It’s a terrible idea. It would be selfish.
“I think we should wait,” she says. “At least until things are more stable.”
Until she remembers.
For a fleeting moment, I don’t want her to remember. To hell with everything. But then I think about Leander, and my vision darkens.
“Dante?” she asks in a small voice.
“I agree.”
“I mean, I’d love to have more children—”
“You don’t have to explain. Growing a baby is hard work. It takes a toll on a woman’s body. Raising a child is even more demanding.” My voice is rough. “Let’s wait.”
Her smile is uncertain. “Okay.”
I lift her into my arms and carry her back to the shower. As she’s already dried her hair, I use the hand nozzle to rinse our bodies. Taking care of her is a duty I enjoy, but I’m doing this more to cut short a conversation I don’t want to have.
I towel her dry, making sure she doesn’t catch a cold, and go to the walk-in closet to get changed. She enters a moment later and walks to her side of the closet.
As I took the day off to accompany Tatiana to her doctor’s appointment, I opt for casual wear, dressing in jeans and a T-shirt. She takes a yellow sundress from a hanger and pulls it on in front of the mirror before facing me.
“Can you please zip me up?”
I walk over, taking her in. She’s never worn a dress that exposes her back. She always chose clothes that covered her scars completely.
Cupping her hips, I turn her sideways. Gently, I arrange her long hair over one shoulder so that the long strands hang down her front, caressing the elegant curve of her neck in the process.
She looks over her shoulder as I zip her up. When she catches a glimpse of her reflection, her expression changes.
Her lips part. “My back.”
I steel myself, faltering for a moment before I finish the task of fastening the hook above the zipper.
I don’t know if I can bear to tell her the truth.
I haven’t even digested it myself. How will she react if she discovers her own father did this to her?
And what do I say if she asks me why he took a whip to her and scarred her for life?
How do I admit she suffered the torture to protect me?
Is she ready to hear the gruesome tale? Will she try to leave me again when she finds out that I used her?
The truth can only damage her fragile state of mind more.
She must misinterpret my reaction, because she steps out of my reach and turns around. “Do you hate it?”
“No,” I say honestly.
How can I hate what she suffered for me? She nearly died for me, for God’s sake.
Tipping up her face with a finger under her chin, I give her more honesty. “I can never hate any part of you.”
She gives me a small smile. “Good.” Her voice is shaky. “I’m not sure I’m ready to ask what happened.”
Relief washes through me. “Then don’t.”
“It’s strange. Seeing the scars surprised me, but it doesn’t really shock me. It’s as if I subconsciously knew they were there, that they’re a part of me.” Her expression becomes thoughtful. “Deep inside, I don’t really want to know how they got there. Not yet.”
I don’t have an answer to that. All I can do is wrap my arms around her and pull her close.
“Thanks for saying what you did.” She hugs me back, squeezing my waist. “That means a lot to me.” Her jade green eyes are full of trust as she bares her heart to me. “I love you, Dante.”
And once more, I can only reciprocate with silence.