2. Dante
CHAPTER TWO
dante
The tension in my body radiates from my jaw to my fists as the dark glass on my phone screen stares back at me.
Alexandria: Message undeliverable.
I tap the icon to call her. No ring. No voicemail.
Just a flat voice on the other end of the line that says, “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time.” It tells me everything I need to know.
I have a younger sister, and when she’s in a stint of annoyance, the brat will block a friend, a family member, or even me at times.
The fiery little imp I’ve put my ring on not even forty-eight hours ago hasn’t just run out on me in the middle of the day—she blocked my number.
A low, dark laugh rumbles in my chest, completely devoid of humor.
Alexandria Holland—well, Lombardi, if you want to get technical—really thinks a blocked number and a few miles are going keep me from her.
She has my ring, let me taste every inch of her soft body, and then vanished before I made it back to hotel room after my meeting.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, sliding the phone into the pocket of my pants. I grab my jacket and head for the mahogany elevator doors of my penthouse foyer when the phone rings on the wall. I pause, tossing my keys into my palm, then hit the speaker. “Yes, Marcus?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Lombardi,” the doorman’s crisp, polite voice comes through the line.
“Pardon the interruption, sir, but there’s a young woman down here at the desk.
She’s… well, she’s quite insistent, claims she needs to see you immediately.
” I lift an eyebrow. Marcus knows my sister, and she’s on the approved list and wouldn’t need to be stopped.
“Does she have a name?” I ask.
“Ah, yes, her name is Alex, sir.” There’s a brief pause followed by a muffled sound of what seems to be a fierce debate on the other end of the line.
“She says it’s urgent.” A low, dangerous smirk pulls at the corner of my mouth.
I lean against the wall. Satisfaction settles in my bones.
Looks like she couldn’t stay away after all.
“Send her up,” I command smoothly.
“Right away, Mr. Lombardi.”
“Oh, and, Marcus?” I add, my voice dropping into a stern, non-negotiable tone that leaves zero room for interpretation.
“Log her into the system. Give her unrestricted access to the building, the penthouse, my private elevator, and a parking spot next to mine. Keycard, biometric, whatever she needs.”
“Understood, sir,” Marcus replies without hesitation. “Updating the security protocol as we speak.” I can hear him clicking away on the keyboard.
“Thank you.” I cut the line, step back into the expansive entry hall of my place, and drop my jacket onto a nearby bench, toss my keys onto the side table, and plant myself squarely in front of the private elevator doors.
I wait with my feet planted shoulder-width apart, heavy and rooted to the floor. My arms are crossed over my chest, the fabric of my black dress shirt straining against my shoulders. The soft ding of the lift signals her arrival. The heavy doors slide open with a mechanical hiss.
And there she is.
Alexandria, Alex to others, but damn if her cunt doesn’t squeeze the shit out of my cock when her full name rolls off my lips while I fuck my dick in and out of her wet heat.
She comes barreling out of the cabin like a hurricane packed into a five-foot-five frame.
Her cheeks are flushed a furious pink, her dark curls bouncing wild and untamed below her shoulders, and her big, stunning eyes are flashing with pure, unadulterated fire.
“You,” she breathes out, pointing a sharp, manicured finger directly at my chest, barely stopping two feet in front of me, chest heaving under a jean jacket.
“Me,” I reply calmly, not moving a single inch. My eyes drag slowly down her body, taking in every single detail before drifting back to her face. “Hello, wife. I was just about to come find you.”
“Don’t you wife me, Dante!” she snaps, her voice echoing off the marble floors of my foyer. She shoves her left hand into the air, right beneath my nose. The diamond I bought for her flashes radiantly under the lights. “What is this? What is all of this?”
“That’s an eight-carat flawless diamond on a platinum band,” I reply dryly. “And if I remember correctly, which I do, you told me you wouldn’t say yes to a minister unless the rock matched the trouble I was going to cause you.” Her jaw drops open and her blush creeps from her chest to her throat.
“I was drunk on champagne and clearly, I have terrible judgment. This is a mistake, Dante. A massive, illegal, chaotic mistake, and we are fixing it right now.” Her voice rises another octave.
“Is that so?” I uncross my arms slowly, sliding my hands into my pockets. Her gaze catches on the platinum band she slid on my finger. “How do you propose we fix it, Alexandria?” I crowd her space, watching her pupils widen with desire.
“An annulment, for one,” she declares, lifting her chin up in defiance.
“We go down to the courthouse, we sign the paperwork, we tell a judge it was an impulsive lapse in judgment that was never executed properly, and we get this marriage annulled. Today.” I let out a low, gruff chuckle that makes her narrow her eyes.
“No can do, wife,” I say softly, stepping forward once more, this time until the toes of my leather shoes brush hers. Alexandria stands her ground, though I see the frantic flutter of her pulse in the hollow of her throat.
“What do you mean, no can do? It’s been less than two days. There’s no way the ink is even dry yet!”
“It’s entirely legal, registered with the state of Nevada, and as far as an annulment…
” I lean down, my face mere inches from hers, letting my dark eyes lock on hers with a heavy, possessive intent.
“An annulment requires the marriage to be unconsummated. And unless that wild, breathless memory I have of you screaming my name at three in the morning was a dream, along with the scratches on my back and chest, this marriage has been thoroughly consummated.” Her breath hitches sharply.
A gorgeous deep crimson washes over her cheeks, but she refuses to look away. Fuck, but I like that about her.
“That doesn’t count!” she argues, her voice trembles slightly now. “We didn’t know what we were doing. I’m hiring a lawyer, Dante. I’ll file the damn paperwork myself, and if you fight me on this, I’ll take it to court.”
“Go ahead,” I murmur. My voice drops into a dark, commanding tone. “Push it, Alexandria. See what happens.”
“Are you threatening me?” she demands, attempting to sound tough, but her shallow breathing betrays her.
“I’m stating a fact.” I take another slow step forward.
This time, she takes an instinctive one back, her heels hitting the elevator doors.
“I have enough money, enough influence, and enough high-priced attorneys to tie you up in legal fees for years upon years. I can drag a trial out until we’re old and gray, wife.
You’d be tied to me in court for the rest of your life. ”
“You wouldn’t.” She swallows hard.
“Try me,” I whisper, reaching out, my large hand coming up to rest on the wall right beside her head, trapping her in my space.
“Though, if I’m being entirely honest with you...
” I trail off, stepping fully into her personal bubble, my chest brushing against hers, letting her feel the heavy, unyielding heat of my body, and my aching fucking cock.
I lower my head until my lips are brushing the shell of her ear.
My warm breath makes her shiver. “I’d much rather tie you to my bed than spend my time in court fighting for my wife. ”
Alexandria gasps, a sharp, helpless sound that vibrates against my skin. I pull back just enough to look into her pretty, green eyes. They’re wide, dark, and swimming with a mix of fury, panic, and undeniable heat that she couldn’t hide from me if she tried.
“You are infuriating.” Her lips part, soft and full, inviting me in.
Her hands go to my chest. Instead of pushing me away, they rest there instead.
Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, securing her to me.
“You think you can just command me? You think you own me because you put a ring on my finger?”
“I don’t think, Alexandria,” I growl, my hand moving from the wall to cup her jaw, my thumb tracing the plump curve of her bottom lip.
“I know. Look at me.” She does as I ask, her gaze locking onto mine.
“You belong to me,” I tell her, my voice raw, rough, and entirely possessive.
“You woke up wearing my diamond, as my wife. And I keep what’s mine. ”
“Dante...” I don’t let her finish. I lean down, and my mouth cuts off her protest with a fierce, demanding kiss.
For a half a second, she stays rigid against the door.
A tiny whimper of protest catches in the back of her throat.
But when I deepen the kiss, taking complete control, my hand sliding down her throat to wrap securely around the back of her neck, tilting her head to give me access…
She doesn’t fight me.
She surrenders on a soft sigh, melting into me.
Her arms slither over my broad shoulders, fingers twisting tightly into my dark hair.
She parts her lips, welcoming my tongue, returning the kiss with a desperate, fiery hunger that matches my own, stroke for stroke.
I pull her flush against my body, one hand gripping her waist tightly before slipping lower, until the palm of my hand cups her ass, lifting her slightly off her feet until she’s on my level.
The kiss went from a punishment to hot, wet, and completely consuming.
“Still want that annulment, wife?” I pull away for a fraction of a second.
Her lips are swollen from our kiss. Alexandria’s hands clutch my shoulders for support, and when I lift her higher, she wraps her legs around my waist. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out, and before she can think better of it, I swallow any protest she can make.