With his mouth sucking my skin, marking me, he slides the hand he curled around my waist lower. It suspends briefly at the swell of my midsection—compliments to a three-course meal, not a baby—before it inches even lower.
I draw in a needy breath when his fingertips skim the apex of my pussy.
Another inch and he’ll be stroking my clit.
Since half the guests are still lining up for cake, and the other half are too enamored by the sickly sweet dessert, I sweep open my thighs. Not a lot, just enough for Giovanni’s hand to slot between them for the briefest second.
“Fuck… you’re wet.” His voice melds through my veins like liquid ecstasy. “Perhaps I should take you to the coat closet and have my way with you as I’m sure my father is wishing he could do with your mother.”
Bringing our parents into this should immediately dispel my horniness. It doesn’t. Don’t ask me why. I’m as lost as you.
“Why don’t you?”
The heavy ache between my legs builds when he angles his head so our eyes meet. I don’t know what he sees, his eyes are too dark to reflect, but as fast as he snuck up on me, he dumps my half-eaten cake on the table, curls his hand around mine, then makes a beeline for the closest exit.
As we’re about to break through the swinging doors the servers have used all evening, the doors burst open and a tall, brooding man passes through them.
A collective gasp booms around the room before the stranger’s natural arrogance suffocates it of joy.
“Sorry I’m late.” He moseys in like he owns the place. “I seemed to have misplaced my invitation.”
He barely gets a foot inside the dining room when the hand not curled around mine shoots out to grab his arm.
Giovanni’s hold is firm enough for the man to wince, but he tries to hide it with a friendly greeting. “Giovanni. It’s nice to see?—”
“Leave.Now.” No matter how much I attempt to keep Giovanni with me, he goes right up to the stranger. “Or I’ll escort you out… unbreathing.”
Every head turns our way when the man’s laughter echoes through the suddenly silent room. He must have a death wish. I could hear the actuality in Giovanni’s tone, and I’ve known him for only a short time.
“Why would I leave, Vanni? This is a family event.” His shrug is as arrogant as his expression. “And I’m family.”
He scans the people gawking at him, as if seeking assistance. I’m confident he’ll continue going it alone, so you can imagine my shock when a loud “Daddy!” bellows across the room.
Valeria pushes back her chair so fast it screeches against the floor. I do nothing but stare.
Daddy? This stranger is her father?
My pulse stutters as confusion makes a mess of my thoughts.
Valeria throws her arms around the stranger’s neck and greets him with a hug. “I thought you said you couldn’t come.”
He doesn’t return her level of affection, and it makes the air even more humid.
When Valeria climbs down, she places herself between Giovanni and her father, which leaves Giovanni no choice but to either free her father from his clutch or risk hurting her to get to him.
My worries must be circling in his head, because he frees Valeria’s father from his grip, but not without a stern shove. “Last warning, Tommaso. Leave. Now.”
“Tomasso?”
It dawns on me that I mumbled my comment out loud when my mother’s shocked gasp shrills into my ears. She’s standing at themain entrance of the dining room, and her hand is covering her mouth.
The color Giuseppe worked so hard for tonight drains from her cheeks as her eyes dart between Valeria and her father.
Then her eyes find me, and they’re overcome with panic.
“Valentina.” My name sounds foreign since it’s hacked with fear. “We need to leave.”
I blink, stunned. “Mom, what’s?—”
