Chapter SEVEN
Ginetta
––––––––
Cold. It seeps into my bones, a chill that has nothing to do with the damp concrete floor beneath me or the icy metal of the handcuffs biting into my wrists. No, this is a cold that comes from within. From the sickening cocktail of fear and despair turning my insides to frost.
I don't know how long I've been here, shivering in a dark corner of this decrepit warehouse. Minutes feel like hours, days. Time loses all meaning in the oppressive gloom, punctuated only by the scurrying of rats in the walls and the distant slosh of water beyond the grimy windows.
I'm trying so hard to be brave, to hold onto hope. But with every passing second, the sharp claws of hopelessness dig in deeper, insidious whispers swirling in my mind like poisoned smoke.
What if no one is coming for me? What if Dante doesn't even know I'm gone, or worse...what if he doesn't care?
The thought sends a jagged blade of pain lancing through my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut against the sting of tears, refusing to give my captors the satisfaction. But in the darkness behind my lids, all I can see is his face. Those piercing espresso eyes, searing me with their intensity. The wicked slant of his mouth as he brought me to shattering ecstasy again and again.
God, Dante. Even now, with terror a living thing clawing at my throat, I ache for him. For his touch, his scent, the rumbling purr of his voice in my ear. I'd give anything to be back in his arms, even for a moment. To feel cherished and protected and alive again.
But I ruined it, didn't I? Let my stupid pride and insecurities get the better of me, drive me away from the best thing that's ever happened to me. And for what? A few catty remarks from small-minded people who could never understand the blaze of feeling between us?
I should have fought for him. For us. Should have marched right up to him at that fucking gala and demanded the truth instead of running like a coward. Maybe then we could have cleared the air. Maybe then I wouldn't have spent the last week a weeping, hollowed-out wreck, mourning the loss of his warmth, his wicked laugh, his big hands caressing my skin.
Maybe then I wouldn't be in this dank hellhole, waiting for a death that feels more inevitable with every ragged breath.
A sudden bang shatters the ominous silence and I jolt, my heart slamming into my ribs. Footsteps echo across the cavernous space, heralding the approaching form of one of my captors. He's a mountain of a man with a thick beard and cold, dead eyes. The eyes of a killer.
Oh God. Oh God. This is it. They're going to kill me now, leave my body in some shallow grave where no one will ever find me. I'll just be one more nameless casualty in their brutal turf war, forgotten in an unmarked plot. I'm going to die here, alone and terrified, and the only man I've ever loved will never know what happened to me.
Panic claws at my chest but I shove it down viciously. No. Not like this. If these fuckers are going to kill me, I'm going down fighting. I won't give them the satisfaction of my fear, my pleas. I'm the daughter of a cop, for fuck's sake. I've been handling myself against men twice my size since puberty.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Summoning every scrap of defiant courage, I lift my chin and glare at my captor through the dirty tangles of my hair. My bound hands are numb, my legs half-asleep from the cold. But I refuse to cower before this waste of oxygen.
"What's the matter, asshole?" I rasp, my voice like rusted nails. "Kidnapping innocent women the only way you can get your micropenis wet?"
The backhand cracks across my face like a whip, snapping my head to the side. I taste blood, feel it trickle down my chin. But I just bare my teeth in a feral grin, meeting his murderous stare head-on.
"Fuck you," I spit, relishing his enraged snarl. If I'm going down, I'm taking a piece of this bastard with me.
But before he can retaliate, all hell breaks loose.
The door to the warehouse explodes inward, metal shrieking as it's wrenched off its hinges. Shouts and gunfire erupt, a deafening cacophony that has me cowering instinctively. I can't make out anything in the chaos, just a swirl of dark figures and muzzle flashes painting the space in staccato bursts of light.
And then a familiar roar cuts through the pandemonium, a single word that sends my heart soaring and plummeting all at once.
"Ginetta!"
Oh God. Dante. He came for me. He's here, an avenging angel cutting a swath of destruction through the melee. I catch glimpses of him through the smoke and shadows, his huge form a blur of lethal motion. He's a force of nature, all rippling muscle and implacable fury as he tears through my captors like tissue paper.
It's over in a matter of minutes. The last gunshot fades away, leaving only ragged breathing and the crunch of broken glass underfoot. I'm shaking violently, my teeth chattering, barely daring to believe it's real. That I'm not still trapped in some horrible dream.
And then he's there, falling to his knees before me. His hands tremble as they skim over my face, my arms, checking for wounds even as his eyes devour me. The cold rage etched into every line of his harsh features melts away, replaced by a raw, aching tenderness that steals my breath.
"Ginetta," he rasps, and the break in his voice shatters me. "Jesus fucking Christ, baby. Are you hurt? Did they touch you?"
I shake my head numbly, too overwhelmed to form words. But I lean into his touch like a flower to the sun, desperate for the scorching heat of his skin on mine.
Dante makes a wounded noise and then I'm in his arms, crushed to his chest as he rocks me gently. I bury my face in his neck and just breathe him in, the familiar scent of spice and smoke and man filling my lungs like the sweetest perfume.
"I've got you," he murmurs into my filthy hair, over and over. "I'm here, amore. I've got you."
I lose time then, drifting in a haze of shock and relief. I'm vaguely aware of Dante releasing the cuffs, carrying me out of the warehouse, barking orders to his men. He bundles me into the warm cocoon of his car, never releasing his iron grip on me. As if he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go for even a second.
And God, I know that fear intimately. Even now, some small, damaged part of me whispers that this is all a beautiful mirage. That I'll blink and find myself back in that dank corner, alone and broken.
But Dante keeps me anchored to reality with the sheer force of his presence, his worry and anger and desperate relief a living thing between us. His hands never stop moving over my body as his driver heads to God knows where. He keeps stroking my arms, my thighs. As if he's trying to memorize me by touch alone.
When he finally breaks the heavy silence, his voice is a raw scrape. "I thought I lost you," he says, and the anguish in every word flays me open. "Christ, Ginetta. When Enzo told me that piece of shit Gallo had you...it was like my whole fucking world ended."
My heart clenches painfully, the last vestiges of anger and pride crumbling to dust. How could I ever have doubted this man's feelings for me? He marched into hell itself to bring me back, laid waste to his enemies for daring to touch what's his.
There's a savage kind of purity in that, a dark and ruthless need that should probably terrify me. But all I feel is cherished. Protected. Like the most precious thing in his world.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice cracking on a sob. "I'm so fucking sorry, Dante. For running away, for not letting you explain. I was just so scared of getting hurt again."
"No," he cuts me off fiercely, his fists clenched. "You have nothing to apologize for, tesoro. I'm the one who fucked up. I should have been honest with you from the start, told you everything. Let you make your own choice about whether you could handle my world."
He drags in a shuddering breath, his jaw tight. "But I was a selfish fucking coward. Convinced myself it was better to keep you in the dark, preserve your innocence or some bullshit. Really, I was just terrified of losing you. Losing the one pure thing in my life."
Tears sting my eyes, my throat aching with all the emotion welling up inside. "You'll never lose me," I manage to choke out, gripping his thigh like a lifeline. "I'm in this, Dante. For keeps this time."
His hand covers mine, big and warm and perfect. "Gonna hold you to that, bellissima," he rasps. "Cause now that I've got you back, I'm never fucking letting you go again."
His dark promise sends heat licking through my veins. But it's a vow, too, one I intend to seal with more than words.
The car stops at a small, nondescript house on the outskirts of the city; some kind of safehouse, I assume. He keeps me tucked protectively into his side as he leads me inside, his eyes never stopping their restless sweep of our surroundings.
But the second the door closes behind us, he's on me. His mouth slants over mine in a desperate, devouring kiss, tongue delving deep. One hand fists in my hair, holding me captive to his onslaught. The other spans my lower back, crushing my aching body to the muscled broadness of his chest.
I moan brokenly into the hot cavern of his mouth, my hands scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders. He's almost brutally thorough, staking his claim, relearning my taste like a man half-starved. Like he wants to crawl inside me, take up permanent residence beneath my skin.
I know the feeling intimately.
My flimsy blouse gives way with a hard yank, buttons pinging musically to the hardwood floor. I gasp as the cool air hits my overheated flesh but Dante just deepens the kiss, walking me backwards until my shoulders hit the nearest wall.
His hands are everywhere, gliding over my ribs, cupping my breasts through the delicate lace of my bra. I arch helplessly into the hot cradle of his palms, my nipples puckering into aching points. He groans his approval, kneading the ample mounds as he rocks his heavy erection against my belly.
"Need you," he grits out between drugging kisses, his voice guttural and strained. "Need to feel you, amore. Need to be inside you."
Yes, yes, please, yes.
I'm already nodding frantically as he reaches for the button of my filthy, tattered jeans. Distantly, it registers that I'm covered in grime and blood and the stale sweat of fear. That I should probably clean up, take a minute to catch my breath before we do this.
But the lust pounding through me is relentless, undeniable. I need his hands on me like I need air in my lungs, the reassuring heat and hardness of him surrounding me. Anchoring me to the here and now.
Dante seems to be of the same mind, growling his impatience as he pushes the denim down my legs. My plain cotton panties follow, leaving me bare and aching before him. He pulls back just far enough to rake his gaze over my trembling body, something wild and fierce igniting in those midnight eyes.
"Fucking beautiful," he rumbles, running a work-roughened palm up the inside of my thigh. "Never letting you out of my sight again, tesoro. Gonna keep you in my bed, on my cock, forever. Fuck, I need a taste..."
And then he's dropping to his knees, throwing one of my legs over his broad shoulder as he buries his face between my thighs. The first hot swipe of his tongue over my swollen sex has me keening, my head thudding back against the wall.
Oh God. Oh fuck. Nothing could have prepared me for the shocking pleasure of Dante going down on me like a man possessed. He licks and sucks and nibbles until I'm a writhing, mewling mess, completely at the mercy of his wickedly talented mouth. His hands grip my ass cheeks, holding me open for his sensual assault as he tongue-fucks me ruthlessly.
"Dante," I sob, my fingers sinking into his dark hair. "Oh God, yes. Right there, don't stop...ah!"
He growls against my clit, the vibration zinging through me like a live wire. I'm so close already, my body drawn taut as a bowstring. Every pull of his lips, every flick and swirl of his tongue stokes the fire burning me up from the inside out.
When he seals his mouth around my throbbing nub and suckles hard, I detonate. My orgasm crashes through me in waves of molten bliss, stealing my breath and obliterating every thought. I'm distantly aware of Dante lapping at me greedily, wringing every last tremor from my shaking body.
I'm still shuddering through the aftershocks when he surges back to his feet, dragging me into another ravenous kiss. I can taste myself on his lips, tangy and forbidden. It only makes me hotter, needier.
"I love you," he rasps against my mouth, the words raw and honest. Stripped of all pretense. "Ti amo, Ginetta. So fucking much."
My heart seizes in my chest, tears stinging my eyes. Even after everything, the fights and the separation and the harsh words, hearing him say those three precious syllables still rocks me to my core. Because I know now, with a bone-deep certainty, that he means them. That I'm branded on his heart, his soul, as indelibly as he's stamped on mine.
"I love you, too," I whisper back fiercely, framing his stark features in my palms. Memorizing every line, every plane. "Forever, Dante. You're my forever."
He makes a wounded noise, almost a sob, and then he's kissing me again. Gentler this time, reverently. Like I'm something unspeakably precious. His hands tremble as they skim over my still-quaking body, learning me anew.
When he finally pulls back, his expression is solemn. Intent. "I want to do this right, Ginetta," he says roughly. "No more secrets, no more holding back. You deserve all of me...even the ugly parts."
I nod, my throat too tight for words. Because I know what it costs him to be this vulnerable, this raw. A man like Dante, he's had to be hard to survive. Ruthless. Letting me see behind the mask, trusting me with his true self...it's a gift I won't ever take for granted.
So I show him with my hands, my mouth. My body. I worship every inch of scar-mapped skin and corded muscle as I strip him bare, kissing and licking and stroking until he's shaking with need. By the time I take him into my mouth, the thick heat and weight of him heavy on my tongue, he's panting my name like a benediction. Like a plea.
I work him ruthlessly, hollowing my cheeks and taking him deep. Dante's hand fists in my hair, guiding my movements as he fights for control. But when I cup his heavy sack, rolling his balls in my palm, he snarls and drags me off him.
"Gonna come in your sweet little pussy, not your mouth," he grits out, walking us towards the bed on unsteady legs. "Need to be inside you when I lose it, amore."
The words send a fresh flood of arousal gushing between my thighs. I'm more than ready for him, aching and empty. Craving the delicious stretch and burn of his possession.
He lays me out on the mattress like an offering, crawling over me to settle between my splayed thighs. The broad head of his cock nudges insistently at my entrance, a blunt promise. My sex clenches hungrily, begging for his invasion.
But Dante holds himself in check, his expression almost pained as he drinks me in. His big palms skim up my ribs to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples in maddening circles. I mewl and arch into the caress, my hands clutching at his firm ass.
"Please," I whimper when the sweet torture becomes too much, my body drawn wire-taut with need. "Please, Dante. I need you inside me. Need to feel you..."
"I've got you, tesoro," he rasps, his voice like gravel over silk. "Gonna take such good care of you, fill this hungry little pussy up so deep..."
And then he's pushing forward, splitting me open on one long, slick glide. I cry out at the sheer blissful relief of it, my sex clutching greedily at his invading length. He's so big, stretching me almost to the point of pain. But it's a sweet ache, a perfect hurt. One I'll never tire of.
Dante groans gutturally as he sheathes himself to the hilt, his head falling forward to rest against mine. For a long moment we just breathe each other in, savoring the incomparable sensation of being joined so completely.
And then he starts to move, slow dragging thrusts that stoke the embers in my core to a roaring blaze. His hands find mine on the pillow, our fingers lacing as he takes me with deep, rolling strokes. Like ocean waves lapping at the shore, inevitable and relentless.
"Never letting you go," he grits out, his cheek pressed to my temple as he drives into me again and again. Hitting that secret spot inside me that rips broken cries from my lips. "This is forever, Ginetta. You and me. Sei la mia anima...my soul."
"Yes," I gasp, hooking my ankles around his pumping hips to take him impossibly deeper. The exquisite friction has me seeing stars, my body bowing taut as a bowstring. "Forever, Dante. I'm yours, only yours..."
His rhythm turns merciless, those powerful hips snapping into me, filling me over and over. I'm lost to it, my world narrowed to the slick slide of his body in mine. The heat and hardness of him, surrounding me, consuming me.
When his fingers find my clit, circling roughly, I shatter. My orgasm detonates through me like a bomb blast, whiting out my vision and stealing my breath. I'm vaguely aware of Dante following me over the edge with a hoarse shout, heat flooding my core as he empties himself inside me. Marking me, deep.
We collapse together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, hearts thundering against each other. I've never felt so utterly wrecked, so completely possessed. Like he's imprinted himself on me.
And I know, with a bone-deep certainty, that this is just the beginning for us. That nothing, not Gallo's schemes or the darkness of Dante's world, can ever tear us apart again. We've been through the fire and come out the other side, stronger. Unbreakable.
As Dante gathers me close, murmuring sweet nothings into my hair, I let the warmth of his presence soothe my aching heart. There's still so much to discuss, so many hurts to forgive. But for now, I'm content just to bask in the glow of our reunion. The sheer miracle of having this extraordinary man in my arms again.
"Sleep, amore," Dante rumbles, his big hand stroking up and down my spine. "I'll keep the demons at bay tonight."
I burrow deeper into his chest, letting his steady heartbeat lull me under. And for the first time in what feels like forever...I'm not afraid of what tomorrow will bring.
Because I know that whatever the future holds, we'll face it side by side. Always.