CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

ADELINA

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“Turn your head and look at me,” Dante growls as I feel his cock press at my entrance. I grip the pillows and glance back at the powerful and beautiful man as I kneel on the bed.

I’m dripping, I’m so wet.

The ache is so bad it burns through my entire body.

“Good girl. Do you like being a good girl or a naughty girl?” he asks, sliding the head of his cock around my juices.

I need him.

“Both. Good. Bad. Dante, please.”

“Oh, so you’re naughty.” He smiles and moves up over my butt. I flinch as my nerve endings fire up. “You want me to fuck your ass, baby?”

I want him to fuck my pussy.

I need this.

“No, please.”

“Maybe I’ll tie you up and just spend the day watching you drip these delicious juices on the bed as I tease you.” His cock continues, sliding around my folds, taunting me. “I’ll lick your pussy when I’m hungry. Stroke my cock and rub my come over this hot ass.”

Slap.

I jolt, and he does it again.

God, I’m going to come.

I’m going to come, even before he enters me. When he finally enters me. I’ve waited all my life.

Fingers slide against my clit and start rubbing. My hips arch and pleasure rolls through my veins as I climax.

My eyes fly open.

I’m on my back, staring at my ceiling in the early morning light.

On my own.

My heart sinks, and my hand moves away from my flesh as I realize there is no Dante. He was in my dream, just as he’s in my every waking moment.

I feel him.

I’m sure I can smell him.

I even thought I saw him yesterday.

Perhaps this is part of starting a new life. You go a little insane.

Flicking back the covers, I go to the bathroom and turn on the shower. There’s no point in lying there moping.

Anyway, today is the day I get my new identification.

I’m not sure what time I should go. He said two days, but I figure people don’t head there for morning tea or lunch. So I resign myself to a long day of waiting.

I’ll go tonight.

I have some business things to do, so after breakfast I log in and check my emails, then start searching for a desk that I can fit into my living room or bedroom. Sitting on the sofa is going to make my neck ache long term.

Just before lunch, I pop onto one of the major news sites and my heart lurches when I see the top story.

FRANK “THE FIRE” BALDASSARE IS DEAD

So they finally leaked it. Unsurprising when such a large funeral has taken place. That’s not what shook me though.

It’s the photo of Dante beside his mother looking every bit the gangster.

And every bit the man I love.

Whether I want to admit it or not.

I’ve never had a sex dream. I’ve never wanted any man like I do him.

I stare at his dark blue eyes, the scruff on his face and the scowl he’s giving whatever photographer taking his photo. His thighs are thick and powerful, his arms bulging out of the black t-shirt he’s wearing and on his wrist the Rolex I know all too well.

His father bought it for him on his sixteenth birthday and he made sure I noticed.

“So what.” I shrugged after he pointed it out, even though I thought it looked sexy on him. There was no way in hell I was telling him that.

Gianna had smirked at me from her sun lounger that day, enjoying the fact her brother's face fell—momentarily—before he turned angry.

“Closest you’ll ever get to one, so soak it up princess,” Dante replied.

“Whatever, Baldassare. My father would buy me a much nicer one if I asked.” I lied. We all knew those things were reserved for the males in the family. “Now go do whatever gangster shit you boys do.”

“Men. I’m a man,” he said, dropping his hands on his hips and glaring down at us.

Even then, he’d been bulking up. His biceps forming, his chest broadening. He even had a few tattoos already.

Oh boy, I noticed.

I noticed everything about him.

I close the laptop and stare out the window.

Will he one day have a son that looks like him? Or a beautiful little girl who is blessed to have his long dark lashes? I imagine him standing at his wife’s side as she gives birth and my heart aches.

A tear slips out and I angrily wipe it away.

I’m twenty-six. Plenty of time to meet someone I’ll love. He’s not the only man for me.

Although it feels like it.

I glance around my house and decide to go out for a walk. Some fresh air might do me good. I live in California after all.

I change into a nice sundress—this one I splurged on from Gap—and slip on my sneakers. Then grab my phone, a jacket, and sunglasses and head out the door.

I live near a beach, so I head in that direction and soon hit the sand. I walk all the way to the end, and then back again. By the time I cross the road, I’m starting to feel better.

I’ll get over him.

I’ll miss my father and brother less every day. In two years, I’m sure it will feel different.

I spot a coffee shop I saw a few days ago and decide to go in. This is my new neighborhood, after all.

“What can I get you?”

“Cappuccino please.” I tell the guy who looks like he is a few years younger than me. “And a cupcake.”

Cupcakes cheer you up.

I’m pretty sure that’s a rule.

“What flavor do you want?” he asks, a little annoyed because there are about ten different options in the cabinet.

“Oh. Chocolate. No, strawberry.” I smile and glance around when he disappears to get my order and find a table.

An older woman appears. “Go, sit down. We will bring it over.”

“Oh, thank you,” I say and slide into a table with a view of the beach.

It’s so beautiful here. I remind myself for the twentieth time today that I will be happy. It’s just going to take some time.

A man in black jeans and a dark t-shirt walks across the road and my heart skips a beat. I sit up straight and every part of me wants it to be Dante.

When a blonde woman runs into his arms and they kiss, I have to force myself not to cry. Tears burn my eyes.

That could be us.

Oh, god.

What have I done? I love him so much and I ran away.

I did the wrong thing.

No, I did the right thing.

I can’t live in that world anymore. I can’t love or marry a man who steals people, sells young women into sex slavery. Sells drugs and contributes to the pain and suffering of others.

I can’t.

I glance back and the man takes the blonde woman’s hand and guides her across the street. When they reach the other side, she stops him and says something.

His eyes fly open and drop to her stomach.

No.

No!

Please, universe. Do not be this cruel.

She nods, and he gently places his hands at her waist as my heart shatters into a million pieces. I can feel the tears sliding down my face as he drops to his knees and kisses her tummy.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the server appear and I wipe away—

“Hi kitten.”

Dante slides into the seat opposite me and I almost scream.