I need this moment with Dante. His unwavering belief I can look after myself is as vital as the air we breathe. He turns us so I can see our reflection in the mirror, and another crest of emotion crashes through me because he looks at me the same way I look at him.
Dante uses a press of his dominance, along with his firm touch, to drive the truth further inside, that this thing of ours is a real and forever thing.
He palms the flesh of my stomach before his hands split up, one cupping my breast and the other dipping inside my underwear.
“God, I want inside your body, so I can remind you of what it means to bemy all.” His mouth continues licking and kissing over my shoulder, his fingers dipping deeper inside my pussy, and as weird as it sounds, his touches are both sensual and not. They’re anchors for me to hold on to as I keep working through the storm of what happened today. More than that, how this crazy world is ours to own.
When he removes his fingers from inside my body, I whimper, and he bites down on the top of my shoulder.
“Bath first, then Valentine will need your attention. But the instant he is done, I’m inside you.”
Dante disappears from view as he drops down to take my panties off. Twisting around to see what he is up to, I scream when he startles me, sweeping me off my feet with no warning. He laughs even when he presses his lips to my skin again, and he doesn’t stop nibbling on my shoulder as he lowers me into the steaming bath water.
“Have a bath with me,” I offer, looking for his lips.
“No chance. Later, most definitely.” He steps away from me but leans over and uses his hand in the water to make the bubbles join back up and cover me, head to toe. “Close your eyes and relax,” Dante barks, his Alpha command like his touches were…holding me exactly where I need to be—here and now, nowhere else.
I hear him go, and much like with Matteo, he takes with him another part of me, but I gave it willingly and he left me with so much more.
I lose track of time and use how loose my body feels as a guide before pulling the plug to use Valentine’s shower. And all his toiletries, so I smell like a sweet version of him.
Walking into the kitchen in a vibrant-blue silk sleep short set—chosen because the color is the exact same as the twins’ eyes—I step over Bella to curl behind Valentine. “That smells amazing.”
The tantalizing aroma from the food does smell incredible, but Valentine’s espresso scent is what I was referring to, and he knows it. He grabs my hands from around his stomach and kisses both my palms before putting them back where they were.
I stay standing with as much of my body pressed against him as possible, listening to the steady beat of his heart and enjoying his presence. And exactly like we knew, the time apart has given us both the chance to do and be what we needed, letting us simply be together, instead of me focusing on placating him, and him trying to shield me from the world.
“Are you hungry?” he asks as he serves up the meal.
“I could eat.”
Matteo and Dante come inside from the balcony.
“Eat here or outside?” Valentine asks.
“Here is good,” I offer, letting go of him and walking around to give Matteo and Dante a hug. They’ve both changed into fresh suits because their day is not done by a long shot.
“You feed the dogs, and I’ll get the wine,” Dante suggests.
And we all have our role and place in the kitchen. We don’t trip over each other; I get lots of small touches from each of them for no other reason than they want to. No one watches me, wondering when I’m going to fall apart. No one looks for answers or explanations. We just exist in a very sweet and domestic way.
When we get ready to sit down, there are only three plates, but I don’t need to ask why. Matteo sits on his high stool, Dantetakes one opposite, and Valentine and I take the chairs that are so close to each other, it looks like one large seat instead of two.
“To times like this,” Valentine says, raising a glass. And we all say the same before tapping our glasses together, the delicate sounds of the glass clinking echoing through our home.
Matteo and Dante wait until Valentine has the first forkful of food waiting at my lips before digging in. And while I’m most certainly aware they’re with us, now it’s Valentine’s time to make me feel like it’s just me and him in the world.
His eyes are shimmering with a kaleidoscope of emotion, making the blue keep changing. No matter how frequently the color transforms, it’s easy to see this Alpha is not the same one who rescued me. Gone are the wickedly sharp edges and the raging chaos. In their place is steely determination and a lust for blood, but those are secondary to him being my Alpha. And the Alpha of Pack De Luca.
Valentine and I share the same fork, and it’s deeply intimate. Such a simple gesture with such deep-seated meaning—I am his, and he is mine.
We eat as a family, and the conversation naturally stays focused on revenge and their plans for tonight, which start in a few short hours. The discussion gets brutally descriptive at points, but I’m not put off, and I love the way they don’t hide anything from me. What Diego and Rosa did deserves the savagery my pack is planning.
Valentine waits until I finish chewing my last bite.
“Excuse us,” he says, looking at both Matteo and his brother before standing and helping me out of my chair. With a careful push on my back, he guides me out of the kitchen while calling back, “Be ready to leave in two hours.”
44
