Baby

The kitchen was warm, filled with the soft glow of a single lamp.

Cassandra and Dante sat across from each other at the small table, their hands intertwined. The food had gone cold, forgotten. They'd been talking for hours.

"I'm sorry," Dante said quietly. "I should have trusted you."

Cassandra squeezed his hand. "I should have told you about Christopher. I should have explained."

"Your grandmother told me. He's not your ex. He wanted to marry you."

"He did." Cassandra looked down. "But I never wanted him. Not like that."

Dante's thumb traced her knuckles. "I've been hurt before. Betrayed. By Isabella. By people I trusted. When I saw that picture, I—"

"You panicked."

"Yes." He looked up, his eyes raw. "I panicked. And I pushed you away."

Cassandra reached across the table, her hand cupping his face.

"I love you," she said softly. "Not Christopher. Not anyone else. You."

Dante turned his head, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"I love you too," he whispered.

---

They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the past finally lifting.

Cassandra yawned, covering her mouth.

"Tired?" Dante asked.

"A little."

"Then let's go to bed."

She smiled, shaking her head. "I want to stay up a little longer. Just to be with you."

Dante stood, pulling her up with him. "We can be together in bed."

Cassandra's cheeks flushed. "Is that why you got drunk tonight?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You wanted to see me, but you were too scared to come sober." She stepped closer, her lips brushing his. "So you got drunk."

Dante's hands found her waist. "I needed to think. And I couldn't think without you."

Her lips met his, soft and teasing.

"Have you ever been drunk?" he asked.

"No."

He laughed, the sound low and warm. "I should get you drunk sometime. I want to see what you look like."

Cassandra pulled back, her eyes playful. "I don't need to be drunk to be with you. I don't need to think. I just need you."

Dante's laugh faded into something darker. His eyes burned into hers.

He took her hand and led her to her room.

---

The room was small, cozy, filled with the scent of lavender.

Dante sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Cassandra toward him.

"Dance for me," he said quietly.

She blinked. "What?"

"Dance on my lap. I've been craving it all night."

Cassandra's cheeks burned. "I—I don't know how."

Dante's lips curved into a smirk. "You've never danced for a man before?"

"No."

He called her baby, the word soft and affectionate. "Then start. Change into something sexy."

She hesitated, then walked to the closet. She found a silk robe, sheer and revealing. She slipped it on, her heart pounding.

When she returned, Dante was shirtless.

The muscles of his chest gleamed in the dim light. He was holding a bottle, his lips curving into a smirk.

"Come here," he said.

Cassandra walked toward him, her eyes on the bottle.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice curious. "How did you have that here?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, his voice smooth. "Just drink."

She took it, the liquid burning her throat. She coughed, her eyes watering.

"It's hot," she complained.

He laughed. "It's meant to be."

She took another sip, then another. The warmth spread through her body, loosening her inhibitions.

She climbed onto his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. He watched her, his hands on her waist.

She moved slowly at first, her hips swaying to a rhythm only she could hear. His hands guided her, his grip firm.

"Like that," he murmured. "Just like that."

She danced for a long time, her body moving against his. The alcohol blurred the edges of her consciousness, but she felt alive. Free. Desired.

She turned, her back to him, and reached for his trousers.

Cassandra's hands fumbled with his belt, her breath quick and ragged. He caught her wrist, stilling her movements.

"Only dance tonight, darling," he said, his voice strained. "One thing at a time."

She turned to face him, her eyes dark with desire. She took his hand and guided it between her legs, showing him how soaked she was.

Dante's breath caught. His fingers explored her, finding her center. She gasped, her body arching into his touch.

"Please," she whispered.

His fingers moved slower. Her body trembled, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Her pleasure hit her like a wave, her body shuddering against his.

She collapsed onto him, her chest heaving. He held her, his arms wrapped around her.

"Sleep," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'll be here when you wake."

She fell asleep in his arms, her body limp against his.

Dante held her close, his eyes closing.