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Chapter Twelve - The Knife, The Throw, and The Tackle
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2025-12-10 03:14:51He gave her slack.
Just an inch.
And she took it.
He barely saw the shift in her posture before she struck—fast, vicious, fluid as water. She twisted out from under his grip, using the wall as leverage, spinning her body in a way no untrained captive ever could.
Dante blinked once.
She was already behind him.
Damn.
Before he could turn fully, something cold slid against his palm—
He actually laughed.
“You little thief,” he said, thrilled despite himself. “You really did plan this.”
She didn’t smile, but her eyes burned like wildfire.
She lunged.
He dodged the first slash.
She moved like a shadow, a trained assassin in full control now that the façade had fallen away.
Every strike she threw wasn’t wild or angry — it was precise. Controlled. Efficient.
“You’re enjoying this,” she hissed as she forced him back a step.
“Of course I am,” he said honestly. “I’ve been waiting for you to stop pretending.”
She swung again.
“That’s going to leave a mark,” he muttered.
“Good,” she spat. “I hope it scars.”
He grinned.
That earned him a snarl and another slash—this one fast enough that he had to dodge with real effort. His heart kicked hard in his chest, excitement curling through him like smoke.
He wasn’t fighting a captive anymore.
And it lit something dark and hungry inside him.
He caught her wrist mid-swing—
He stumbled.
Stumbled.
Dante Valenti never stumbled.
The shock of it made him laugh, one sharp, delighted sound.
Aria Moretti was trying to kill him — and he’d never been more turned on in his life.
Before he could regain full footing, the basement door swung open.
“Boss?” Marco called. “I heard—HOLY SHI—”
Aria reacted instantly.
The knife flew from her hand with deadly precision, aimed straight at Marco’s skull.
She didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t miss.
Dante moved on instinct.
He reached out, caught the knife midair, inches from Marco’s forehead.
The guard screamed anyway.
Aria’s eyes widened for the first time — not with fear, but with irritated disbelief.
“Oh, come on,” she snapped. “I had him perfectly lined up.”
Dante held the knife between two fingers, admiring her aim.
Marco made a choked sound. “Boss, she almost killed me!”
“Almost,” Dante corrected.
“Practice?” Marco squeaked.
Aria rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to dive in front of my blade, that’s on you.”
Dante barked a laugh.
He liked her more every second.
Then he threw the knife aside and lunged.
She tried to leap away, but he caught her around the waist, momentum slamming both of them into the floor. She fought like a wildcat—knees, elbows, even her teeth aiming for anything she could reach.
Marco jumped in, grabbing her ankles as she kicked at Dante’s ribs.
“Hold still!” Marco shouted.
“I’ll slit your throat if you touch me,” Aria snapped back.
“And that,” Dante said breathlessly as he wrestled her arms behind her back, “is what makes you absolutely… intoxicating.”
“Go to hell!”
“You first,” he growled, tightening his grip. “Since you keep trying to send me there.”
Between Dante on her upper body and Marco pinning her legs, they finally got her restrained. Her wrists were cuffed again, pulled tight against the chain.
She sat there breathing hard, hair wild, eyes blazing pure murder.
Beautiful.
His.
“Feel better?” Dante asked, wiping a smear of blood from his forearm.
She glared at him like she wanted to set him on fire.
“You did,” he admitted, stepping close again. “And do you know what that does to me?”
Her jaw clenched. “If you say it turns you on, I swear I’ll—”
“It turns me on,” he said.
Marco groaned. “Oh my god, boss.”
Aria actually choked. “You’re insane.”
Dante brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, savoring the way she didn’t flinch—she braced, ready to bite him again if needed.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, voice dropping to a growl. “And I want more.”
“Of course you do,” she snapped. “You’re a lunatic.”
He leaned closer, lips ghosting her ear without touching.
She cut him off with a glare sharp enough to slice steel.
He smiled, dark and slow.
Her breath caught.
Just for a second.
Then she snarled, “In your twisted dreams.”
“Oh, sweetheart…” Dante stood and wiped his hand on his jeans. “You have no idea how twisted they get.”
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The priest steps forward with practiced calm, smoothing the front of his black robes before resting both hands on the lectern.His voice carries easily through the room, measured, warm, reverent.“We are gathered here today to honor the life of Elena Moretti,” he begins. “A woman known not for the power attached to her name, but for the kindness she chose to show despite it.”I close my eyes.“She was a philanthropist, a patron of countless charities, an advocate for the sick, the poor, the forgotten. She believed money was meaningless unless it was used to lift others.” He pauses, letting the words settle. “And she believed, perhaps stubbornly so, that compassion was never weakness.”A murmur ripples through the crowd. Soft nods. Quiet agreement.“She will be missed deeply,” the priest continues. “Not just by her family, but by the many lives she touched in ways large and small.”I feel Dante’s presence beside me, still, steady, but the ache in my chest grows anyway.Then the priest
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She trembles, body tensing as I rub her swollen nub with my free hand, circling fast. Her orgasm hits like a storm, walls clamping down, milking me as she screams into the pillow, her release squirting out around my shaft.The vise-like squeeze pulls me over the edge. I release her throat, shoving her face down into the mattress as I pound through her spasms, groaning as I cum again, flooding her pussy with thick spurts of seed until it overflows, running down her thighs.I collapse over her back, both of us spent and shaking, my cock softening inside her. I kiss the nape of her neck, loosening my grip on her hair, and we sink into the sheets together, the room filled with our heavy breaths and the scent of sex.For a moment, neither of us speaks.Then I murmur, “You okay?”She exhales, a soft huff that turns into a quiet laugh. “I’m… great.”That makes me snort. “That wasn’t convincing.”She laughs again, but it fades quicker this time. Her shoulders tense under my chest.“I’m not,”
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She obeys, scooting back to lie down fully, legs parting in invitation.I climb over her, settling between her thighs, the head of my cock nudging her entrance. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, and I push in.Slow at first, inch by inch, her tight walls stretching around me, gripping like a vice.We both groan at the fullness, her nails digging into my shoulders as I bottom out, balls pressed against her ass.I hold still for a moment, savoring the way she pulses around me, then start to move, long, deep thrusts that have the bed creaking under us. Her breasts bounce with each drive, and I lean down to suck one nipple into my mouth, teeth grazing as I fuck her harder, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.Aria meets me thrust for thrust, her heels digging into my back, moans turning to cries as I angle my hips to grind against her clit.My hand slides up her body, fingers wrapping around her throat, not squeezing yet, just holding, feeling her pulse race und
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