Page 95 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

“Just for tonight,” I whisper. “Let it be like… like it was.”

His eyes search my face. “It’ll never be enough,” he rasps.

Tears spring to the backs of my eyes and I don’t fight them. They fill my eyes but don’t quite fall. “I know.”

Dante looks at me a second longer before he kisses me again, flipping me over. He kisses me once more, roughly, before pulling away and tugging off my pajama bottoms impatiently. I’m not wearing anything beneath and his breath hitches in his chest.

He leans over, planting a kiss on my stomach, and my heart stops. It starts beating again when he kisses higher, between my breasts, before taking a nipple into his mouth over the fabric. I arch my back, pleasure rising in my lower abdomen.

Dante’s fingers test my wetness, his thumb sweeping over my clit too briefly.

I whine against his mouth as he kisses me again, fumbling with his slacks. He guides himself into me, moaning softly into my mouth. I swallow them down, not wanting Papa to hear.

I gasp in a breath when he sinks all the way home. It feels like it’s been a lifetime since he’s been inside me like this.

He breathes out through his nostrils, starting to move just his hips in a steady, fluid rhythm.

But Dante won’t look at me, burying his face against my neck as he thrusts almost desperately in and out of me. I’m holding my breath, my orgasm slowly building.

“You fucking wreck me,tesoro, you know that?”

I let out the breath I’ve been holding, falling over the edge and starting to tighten around him.

Dante curses in Italian like he does sometimes when he’s on the edge. Having spent all that time in Sicily taught him the language, and sometimes he slips.

He pants, fucking me through it before he spills deep inside me. I feel his breath hot against my neck, wrap my arms around him, slide my fingertips across his broad back.

I let myself have him, in this moment. Let myself pretend he’s mine.

That he ever was.

When he lifts his head and gives me this broken half-smile, my heart cracks wide open. I let myself love him, let my heart bloom with it, and it fuckinghurts.Tears spill out of my eyes, trailing down into my ears.

Dante frowns, kissing them away before cupping my face. “Don’t cry, little one.”

I choke out a sob. “Don’t,” he says again, his voice cracking, his own eyes wet.

I open my mouth. I could tell him. I could spill everything right now and maybe, just maybe, we’d figure it out.

“I should go,” I say instead, and his eyes change, go empty again.

I hate myself.

He slowly pulls out of me as if it hurts him to do it, and I wiggle out from under him. I snatch my pajama bottoms off the floor and hurriedly put them on.

He collapses on the bed, face-down. Doesn’t look at me as I slip out of the door, peeking out first to make sure no one’s in the hallway. My chest hurts and I can barely breathe.

I make it to the bathroom before I heave, but nothing comes up. What was I thinking?

I can’t tell him.

Tomorrow I have to start implementing my plan.

And Dante’s not going to like it.

24

DANTE