Dante (32 page)

Michel grinned, showing off the beginnings of his eyetooth breaking out from the bottom of his gum. It was giving the kid hell and Dante knew it. He’d spent three entire nights up soothing Michel because the boy seemed to calm easier with Dante when he was in pain.

Dio
, the boy was his son through and through. Blood or not, he just was.

“Are you nervous,
bello
?”

Dante gave his wife a once-over, eyeing the scarf she wore around her neck to hide the yellowed bruises Bruno’s hands had caused a week earlier. At least makeup covered the fading mark under her eye and that split lip the asshole gave her was gone. It still didn’t help. Dante’s rage flooded fast and swift like a destructive wave just at the thought alone.

But, this was their world. The man was gone, as was his threat. Very few people knew what had happened, and that was the best thing for them all. The less people who knew, the less people would talk amongst themselves. No need to have the possibility of the officials finding out. As it was, they had enough to deal with from the investigation from the accident.

“Yes,” Dante finally replied. 

Catrina patted his cheek with her palm, drawing his gaze to hers. “Don’t be. They’re your family and they will love him because he’s yours.”

Dante sucked in a breath. “Ours, you mean.”

“
Sì
, but I’m not the nervous one here.”

True
, Dante thought with a smile.

Dante knew his anxiety was pointless in some ways. Michel had already met most of his immediate family, like his aunts and uncles. Like it always did, no matter how hard they tried to keep the boy a secret until they had proper papers for him, word spread through the grapevine that Dante had adopted a little boy who was Catrina’s biological son.

At least the right damn story was being told.

Unfortunately, adoption would stain Michel in a few eyes, and Dante couldn’t have that. He had wanted to wait one more week of having their son before confirming the rumors, but they didn’t have a choice what with the whispers. Today, they would properly introduce him as Catrina’s son, hopefully making the transition of Dante adopting the boy easier in others’ opinions.

Dante despised the fact that he needed anyone’s approval at all, but that wasn’t how
la famiglia
worked.

Cosa Nostra was more than just a thing, more than a chosen profession. It was a culture of people who came together for one common goal; people who believed in the life they lived. They all existed under the constant guide of rules and expectations, with loyalty and honor being a man’s everything. Being a boss didn’t matter, not to the grand scheme of things.
La famiglia
was more than one man—it was every man. It always would be.

Dante was ridiculously thankful for his mother, even if she had been difficult at first about his marriage. The very next moment after she heard about Michel, she came to meet the boy and like Dante, fell instantly in love. Cecelia gently pointed out that if she knew, others were probably learning about the baby, too. A large Sunday breakfast was organized by Cecelia in just a quick couple of days. The woman was a tyrant.

Not their usual private affair with just the brothers and wives, but instead, it was an open invitation to anyone in
la famiglia
. There wasn’t an idiot on earth who would shun Antony Marcello’s wife. Dante knew an open invitation meant everyone.

Guessing by the sounds of voices traveling through the large hallway, most of the people were already there.

“Ready?” Catrina asked.

Dante swallowed back his nerves and nodded. Mostly, he didn’t want people to reject his son because Michel was so beautiful and loved entirely by his father. Others should love him, too. “Yeah,
bella
.”

Catrina offered her hand and Dante took it without question. Together they walked through the foyer and hallway, taking their time to get to the large kitchen connected to the dining room. The moment they came into view at the entrance of the kitchen, heads turned and voices muted rapidly.

Michel, seemingly oblivious to the tension his father was feeling, tugged on Dante’s shirt collar and stuck the fabric in his mouth to chew. Dante chuckled, letting go of his wife’s hand to take the inedible clothing from his son’s mouth, and kissing his tiny nose.

“No eating daddy,
piccolo
.”

“No
Papà
,” Michel babbled.

A throat cleared at the same time Catrina’s hand found Dante’s again. His nervousness dissipated as he turned Michel to face the room of people filling the kitchen and dining room. He wanted them to see his child’s face so they could draw their own conclusions about his looks, especially the fact Michel shared some of the same features Catrina did. It would help with their story, if nothing else.

Most of the guests didn’t know about Dante’s inability to have children. It wasn’t their business to, for one. Still, Dante had to remind himself that at the same time, they also couldn’t possibly know how important the little boy in his arms was to him; how much he needed and wanted this child.

“Who do you have there?” Antony asked, stepping into Dante’s line of sight with arms outstretched to take his newest grandson. He had already met Michel earlier in the week, but Dante recognized his father’s words as a way to break the ice. Dante appreciated his father’s effort.

Dante smiled. “
Mio figlio
.”

My son.

Chapter Nineteen

Michel squirmed in his father’s lap, trying as hard as he could manage to get out of the tight grasp Dante had on him. When he couldn’t, Michel let out an angry wail. It echoed in the church, likely drawing the attention of most of the parishioners.

Cat resisted the urge to flip whoever was watching them the bird. She doubted Father Peter would appreciate that kind of behavior.

“Ah, none of that,
mio regazzo
,” Dante chided their son quietly.

“Hand him down,” Lucian said, reaching for his Godson.

“
Zio
!” Michel cried, tiny fingers clenching in his uncle’s direction.

Cat didn’t bother to hide her relieved sigh when Michel quieted with Lucian. Dante chuckled, his hand finding his wife’s in the pew. Church was always a little more difficult with kids in hand, she had come to learn. Babies had no patience for services that took up most of their morning.

A morning that could be better spent by crawling around on the floor trying to find pieces of dirt to eat. Cat didn’t try to understand her son, she simply loved him.

“Guess what,
bambino
,” Lucian said, bouncing a happy Michel on his lap. “I have a surprise for you.”

Jordyn smiled at her husband’s side, watching the exchange. Johnathan napped in her lap, his favorite blanket curled around his arm and over his head, keeping his face shielded from the light of the church.

Cat was grateful her brother and sister-in-law had forgiven her for the things she had done. Family, they said. That’s what it was all about—what the
Marcellos
were all about. Last Sunday, Jordyn and Lucian had become Michel’s Godparents. Unfortunately, they had to wait a little longer than they liked for the paperwork to be in order, but once it was, they wasted no time getting their child christened.

Nonetheless, Cat was happy. Tired running after her boy, missing her husband as he seemed to be working too often lately, and feeling stressed from being pulled in so many directions … but she was happy.

“What surprise?” Cat asked Lucian quietly, glancing behind her husband’s back down the pew.

Lucian shrugged. “Ask your husband.”

Dante’s fingers woven with Cat’s tightened. “Michel is going to go home with Lucian and Jordyn after supper tonight.”

Cat’s mouth opened to protest immediately, but the look her husband gave her shut whatever words she was going to say down. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Lucian and Jordyn, but Cat had yet to spend a night apart from Michel since they brought him home where he belonged a month ago. She wasn’t sure she was ready to leave him with someone else.

“Dante, I don’t—”

“No arguments,” Dante interrupted. “Now, be a good girl and listen to the priest.”

Cat pinched the inside of her husband’s hand, annoyed.

Dante grinned, his voice turning to a whisper. “There’s those claws of yours I love. Sharpen them up, kitten.”

Sweet Christ.

• • •

As soon as they walked into the condo’s kitchen, Cat’s back hit the wall with a hard thump. The air left her lungs in a burning whoosh as the warm palms of her husband began exploring her curves. Instantly, Dante’s fingers curled into the hem of Cat’s dress, bunching the fabric in his grasp and yanking it up over her body. The coolness of the kitchen pebbled her skin and hardened her nipples beneath the lace bra she wore.

That feeling didn’t last long. Under Dante’s intense gaze, Cat heated right back up in a flash. The tips of his fingers dug into her sides, traveling around to her backside where he squeezed the flesh of her ass roughly.

Wanting to feel more of him against her, Cat arched into Dante, but he pushed her back to the wall without a word. His lips crashed down on hers with a possessive intent, his tongue sweeping at the seam of her lips to claim her mouth. Cat gave into his kiss and sighed when those hands of his found her hair and tugged at the strands weaving between his fingers.

Cat loved it when Dante pulled her hair; adored it when he turned rough in bed. The man was a perfect gentleman outside of their sex life. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, and gave his wife first pick of everything. Dante never stood for someone disrespecting Cat, and at the same time, he treated her like an equal.

In bed, though … God, in bed he owned her. Fucked her beautifully raw. He held nothing back, and she didn’t want him to. If anything, she begged him for more. Dante demanded from her body; he consumed her.

There was no other man on the planet who Cat would give herself over to like she did for Dante Marcello.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,
dolcezza
,” Dante growled against her lips.

“Worst time for you to be calling me that, you know.”

“I don’t think so.”

Cat fumbled with the buckle of Dante’s belt, needing his goddamn pants gone as quickly as she could get them off. “There’s nothing sweet about me in bed,
bello
. Especially when you’re fucking me.”

“Wrong.”

Dante punctuated the word by biting down hard on Cat’s lower lip. She whined at the shock of pain melting into bliss as it shot through her bloodstream like a drug injected straight into her heart. Surprised, she forgot her mission of getting his pants off. He tugged on her hair again, firmer the second time. The best sting radiated over her scalp. It was enough to force Cat’s head to tilt back to the wall, her heart hammering fast. His teeth found her collarbones, nipping and sucking until her skin tingled and was marked all over by his kiss.

“
God
,” Cat breathed.

“
Mmm
, no, Dante.”

Before Cat could say another word, her husband dropped to his knees. His hands dragged along her spine before pulling her panties down to her ankles. Dante lifted the sole of Cat’s foot high enough to release the lace from her leg. Then, her leg was hooked over his shoulder and his mouth hovered at her exposed sex.

Dante licked Cat’s inner thigh. The action was a blatant promise of what was to come, and she shuddered at the very thought of it.

“You’re so wrong about nothing being sweet on you, kitten.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, very wrong. Your pussy is the sweetest goddamn thing I’ve ever tasted, and if I could, I would fucking live off it.”

Cat swallowed audibly, glancing down at the green eyes gleaming wickedly. Whenever he fucked her with his mouth, her senses went on overdrive. She could literally feel the pressure of his breath pulsing to her sex.

“Dante—”

Her words cut off right along with her ability to think when his mouth covered her sex. Immediately, a talented tongue tunneled between the lips of her pussy and dipped into her core. Dante’s rhythm was relentless with fast flicks and sharp jabs to her most sensitive tissues. His nose nuzzled at the hood of her clit, giving the throbbing bundle of nerves just enough friction to send waves of pleasure coursing through her channel.

Cat knew without a doubt her sex was soaked and getting wetter by the second. There was nothing like Dante’s tongue working her pussy. His fingers dug harder into the cheeks of her ass. Cat canted her hips into his mouth. A knowing smile twisted Dante’s lips as he watched her from between her thighs.

A choked gasp caught in her throat when his grip on her backside let go and his fingers joined his mouth at her sex. She felt two fingers thrust into her clenching core, curling to seek the spot to make her come. His fingers fucked her in time with his tongue, spreading wide when they withdrew and then twisting hard to stimulate her G-spot. Needing support, she braced her hands palm up to the wall behind her. It didn’t take Cat long for her first orgasm to sweep her under.

Dante gave no notice before he stood, picked his wife up, and turned fast. In three long strides, Cat’s back met the table. She sprawled across the oak top, hair flying wildly. Once more, Dante hooked her leg over his shoulder, leaning down over her form and making her muscles burn.

Dante’s fingers found her sex again. He teased her slit with long strokes from her clit to her entrance. “Always buy oak.”

“W-what?”

“Always buy oak. It’s the only thing sturdy enough for this.”

Dante’s free hand came up, finding Cat’s jaw and throat. She gulped in air at the sight of her husband’s gaze darkening with lust as he pinned her down to the table. His fingers left her sex and Cat heard the shuffle of his pants being dropped.

“Oh my God.”

Dante smirked. “Nope, still Dante.”

He was the only God she cared to worship, anyway.

Cat found herself yanked to the edge of the table, her leg hooked over his shoulder, and then the hand at her throat briefly tightened. It was the only notice she got before Dante slammed inside of her.

Her back came off the table in an arch, a scream of bliss on the tip of her tongue. Her sex shuddered around his intrusion, the heel of her stiletto biting into his shoulder. Pleasure crawled through her veins, threatening to take her under its current the moment her husband started to move, pounding into her at a brutally good pace.

“
Christ
, yeah,” Dante groaned.

“Harder, Dante,” Cat gasped. “Fuck me
harder
.”

Dante obliged.

He always fucking did.

• • •

Exhausted and spent, Cat allowed Dante to weave their fingers together as he brought her down to his chest. The dampness from the perspiration gathered on her skin chilled her in the bed, but her husband’s warmth and the blanket he pulled over their bodies was enough to keep her from finding clothes. Sex on the table had led to the hallway, and finally ended in bed.

Dante kissed a path along Cat’s forehead before she tucked her cheek into the crook of his neck. The delicious scent of their sex and his cologne surrounded her. A contented sigh escaped. Dante’s husky chuckles rocked them both.

“Fuck, that was … intense.” Dante traced loopy circles over Cat’s shoulders beneath the blanket. The soothing action would probably lull her to sleep if she let it. “We need to do it more often. Or make time for it, anyway.”

Cat agreed, leaning up enough to rest her chin on her hands in the middle of his chest. Having a child to take care of certainly added an entirely new road block in their sex life. It wasn’t that they didn’t connect physically, because they did. But rather, with work, family, life, and Michel, time was limited. A fast fuck was easier to manage and achieve than hours of sweaty, hair pulling, skin biting sex.

Sure, it was still just as good—of course it was—but sometimes Cat needed the workout only her husband could provide. It whipped away stress, worries, and the nonsense cluttering her thoughts and left her bare to nothing but sensation and emotions.

“Yeah, definitely make more time for this,” Dante murmured, his gaze falling on Cat’s smiling lips.

Despite her tiredness, bliss was still singing its lovely tune through her nervous system.

“Yes, and then regret it in the morning when we’ve only slept two hours, right?” Cat asked teasingly.

Without warning, his palm smacked down on her ass. “Hey.”

Cat pouted. “Ouch.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like to be spanked, kitten.”

A shiver crawled up her spine at the dark quality his tenor took on. “You know I do.”

“No regrets about this,” Dante said.

His hands squeezed her ass to reinforce his statement and he ground her into his semi-hard cock still inside her sex. The action had her pussy clenching around his shaft. Dante groaned thickly and Cat felt his dick twitch.

“Oh yeah, no regrets,” he repeated. “Please tell me you’re not tired, yet, because I’m just about ready to bend you over and fuck you again.”

Cat chewed on her lower lip. “A little. You worked me hard.”

“You’re not complaining.” Dante huffed, arching a brow high. “Bath, then?”

“Will you join me?”

“No need to ask that question at all,
Amore
.”

Twenty minutes later, Cat all but sunk into the steaming hot, bubbly water while her body raged through another orgasm. Water sloshed around the edges of the tub. Cat’s hair, piled high on the top of her head, was damp with her sweat and from Dante’s wet hand gripping tight to the strands. He kept her head to the side while he fucked her, allowing him to mark her neck with his kisses.

She tried to catch her breath as Dante’s fingers toyed with her clit and his cock continued thrusting deep into her channel. Shaking and weak, Cat gave herself over to the ecstasy pounding at her insides. Not for a single second did her husband relent in his pace, never mind his fingers playing the sweetest rhythm in tune to his cock. Behind her, Dante finally let go of her hair before wrapping his strong arm around her middle. Cat let her head fall back to his shoulder, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“
Madonn
,” Cat breathed, leaning back up at her husband’s request. Dante followed right behind, keeping a hold of her all the while. She grabbed his thighs for support. “You’re going to kill me.”