Chapter 22

Camila

My mind spun with each step up the staircase. The memories of the last twelve hours swirled with hurricane-strength emotions. It seemed impossible that Papá had called me into his office this very afternoon. No, it’s officially tomorrow. He called me to his office yesterday.

In the hours following that meeting my whole world changed.

Our whole world.

The disappointment at my father’s decision and his unwillingness to listen sent me reeling. It wasn’t until I saw Dante and knew he’d come across the country to fight for me that I regained my footing. If he could fight for me—for us, so could I.

Dante’s and my marriage was the throwing of a stone into a lake. The ripples would flow in every direction, having repercussions beyond the two of us.

A quick look up at the man holding my hand was all the reassurance I needed to know I’d made my own decision. Dante was the man I wanted, and by the warmth of his body next to mine, he wanted me too.

Neither of us said a word as we ascended the staircase, leaving those below behind who knew exactly what was about to happen. My brother even mandated it. Nothing made sense and yet everything was as it should be.

Dante opened the door to the primary suite, and we walked inside.

I took in the room, the closed French doors leading to a balcony overlooking the pool and ocean. There was a comfortable area with a loveseat, chair, and small table. The main focus of the room, situated near the balcony doors, was the large king-sized bed.

“Do you think it’s a little weird to be in Jano and Mia’s bedroom?”

Dante scoffed. “Traditions. Aléjandro and Mia were in your parents’ bedroom.”

I scrunched my nose. “Okay. I’d rather be here than in my parents’ bedroom. That would be…” I couldn’t come up with the best word. If instead of words, I could have used emojis, it would be the one with the face vomiting.

Dante closed the door, turning the lock in the doorknob.

“You think that will keep them out?”

“My gun will keep them out. As surprising as it is, everyone downstairs is on our side. We are where they want us.”

I made my way to the balcony doors. With my hands on the handles, I asked, “Is it safe to open these?”

Dante came behind me, the warmth of his front covered my back. He placed his hand over mine and turned the handle. Immediately, the sound of the surf below filled our ears. There wasn’t any furniture out on the balcony. A quick look below and we saw Viviana picking up pieces of the furniture that remained in tatters on the pool deck.

As we stepped out onto the cool concrete balcony, strands of my hair blew around my face. “Do you think there used to be chairs out here?”

“Before they were shot all to hell?” Dante said. “I would guess.” He reached for my hand. “Is there any way I can make you forget, if only for a while, about what happened with the helicopter?”

Taking a deep breath, I lifted my chin to catch his gaze. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I know I’d like for you to try.”

Dante ran his hands down both of my arms, a ghost of a touch that sent shock waves through my nervous system. His head tilted, fire burning in his gaze as he secured a strand of long hair behind my ear. “If I haven’t told you, you’re gorgeous, Camila. When you appeared out of the darkness in this white dress, I couldn’t believe that you were willingly coming to me, to marry me, and to be my wife. You looked too heavenly to be real.”

I lifted my hand to his cheek, feeling the coarseness of his day’s beard growth. “I think I fell in love with you during my first visit to Kansas City. Do you remember helping me see Emerald Club? Catalina was against it, and Dario was…”

“Dario.”

“Yes,” I said with a grin. “You thought I was older than I was.”

“Because,” he said, backing me against the wall to the side of the balcony, “I was attracted to you the first time I saw you—the night before Dario’s wedding. Then I found out you were too young, too sweet, and too innocent for me.”

“Too bad.”

Dante’s lips quirked. “You’re not bad.”

Keeping my chin raised, I found myself lost in his dark stare. “No, I’m saying too bad. If you think I’m wrong for you, it’s too late. We’re married. It’s official, according to Father Gallo, in the eyes of the Lord and in the eyes of California.” I wiggled my ring finger. “I’m a married woman.”

“There’s a stigma in my world, our world. I probably learned it from my father. Love makes you weak. Success is all about power.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ve seen that isn’t accurate with Dario and Catalina. I can’t say I loved you the first time I saw you. I can say I lusted after you.” Pressing his hips toward mine, I felt the pressure of his confined erection. “I thought I loved you when I proposed, but when Dario informed me that you were no longer to be mine, I felt that love deep into my bones. It’s fierce and strong, Camila. I love you. I will spend forever hoping you feel that because you’re now mine.”

As I reeled from his declaration, Dante pressed his strong lips together and tilted his handsome face. Slowly he trailed the pad of his finger down my cheek, my neck, and my collarbone. His touch was like the striking of a match, methodically setting my flesh ablaze. His dark stare intensely followed his finger as it lowered down my chest and to the apex of the sundress’s neckline. After lingering long enough to make my nipples harden, Dante’s gaze came back to mine. “And now it’s time to make you forget.”

His deep baritone warning sent shivers down my spine and left goose bumps in their wake. I could ask what he wanted me to forget, but I was done talking. I’d made my decision.

It wasn’t that I would have denied him sex before we were legally wed. By the way my body reacted to his mere presence, I would have acquiesced. However, he never asked. That didn’t make me feel rejected in any way. On the contrary, his patience made me feel respected.

Marriage—or lack thereof—was no longer a barrier to sex. We’d said our vows, signed our license. I was ready to learn what other women knew, the feeling of a man touching her, teasing her, loving her, and being inside her.

I read books and watched movies.

Now, I wanted to learn for myself, to experience what I’d only imagined. I wanted to be the heroine in my own story with the hero of my choosing.

Dante’s lips took mine—strong and possessive. He wasn’t staking his claim. That he’d already done. Dante was declaring me for himself. I was his, the deal signed, the ring in place. My hands climbed his broad shoulders higher to his thick neck, and up to his wavy dark mane. I took in his scent of leather, spice, and enough gunpowder to add the hint of danger.

His kiss consumed me, twisting my core. As his tongue sought entrance, my body tightened, painfully so, as synapse after synapse exploded within me. Heat accompanied the detonations, threatening to engulf the two of us in a fiery inferno.

I gasped for breath as his kisses lowered, following the trail his finger had explored. A moan escaped my lips as he peppered my skin, slowly and meticulously, and his lips moved down my body. I jumped at the sight of Dante’s knife.

“What?”

“We have our traditions, too.”

A long-ago memory of Mia telling Cat about the cutting of the wedding dress came back. I stood perfectly still, willing myself not to move as my husband sliced one spaghetti strap like butter and then the other. The neckline lowered, revealing my breasts. Lifting my chin, my neck arched as the combination of sea air and his warm breath caused my hardened nipples to turn to diamonds.  

“You’re fucking perfect.”

A man like Dante had probably been with many women more experienced and definitely shapelier. “They’re small.”

He sucked one nipple into his mouth. I squealed as he nipped my flesh with his teeth. “Perfect,” he said against my skin. “I won’t hear any other description.”

Taking a step back, Dante stared down at me, my dress now resting at my waist, below my exposed breasts. “Look at you, with your hair tousled, your skin marred by my attention.” He brought his finger again to my neck. “Your artery is pulsating, and your breathing is erratic.” His lips quirked. “Your scent is divine. I can smell your arousal just as I did that night in my apartment.”

Warmth filled my cheeks at his accurate description.

He ran his palm over his cheek. “I should shave. Your skin is sensitive to my scruff.”

I shook my head. “I like it.”

In one fell swoop, Dante lifted me from the concrete balcony. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me back into the bedroom. Gently setting my feet back on the floor, he closed the doors to the balcony and took a step back. “I want to see you, Camila. All of you.”

The goose bumps were back.

When I didn’t move, he leaned closer, whispering a menacing murmur and coating my ear and neck with his warm breath. “All of you.”

Nodding, I pushed down my sundress, the material pooling around my feet.

His brown orbs burned with unspoken desire.

Even a woman as inexperienced as I noticed the strain of his erection against his dark jeans.

Dante lifted my chin. “When we’re alone, I want you to remember that you belong to me. You’re mine to do with as I want. Outside our private bubble, I love your fire and determination. You’re incredibly sexy standing up for yourself. In private, I want to hear your desires as long as you remember that I’m in charge.”

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Can you remember that?”

My nostrils flared as I nodded, my chin still in his grasp.

“Now, what did I say I wanted to see?”

“All of me.” My voice came out stronger than I anticipated. I straightened my neck. “I want to see you, too. I’ve never seen…”

Releasing my chin, Dante’s cheeks rose as his smile curled. “Oh, beautiful, you will see me. First, it’s my turn. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Catching the waistband of my panties with my fingers, I pulled them down, keenly aware that they were wet with the arousal he’d claimed to know was there. I let the lacy material drop to the carpet and join the puddle of my dress.

Something resembling a primitive growl echoed through the bedroom suite as Dante stepped back and slowly walked around me. His intense focus returned the scorching flames to my exposed skin. All my skin. One. Two. Three circles, each one weakening my resolve and my knees.