All Chapters of His Dirty Little Secret : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Dante's POV Watching her walk away from the Porsche, that sway in her hips—innocent to the world but a fucking siren call to me—nearly had me throwing the car in park and dragging her back inside. Her jeans hugged her ass like they were painted on, and I knew exactly what was underneath: skin still flushed from our detour, marked by my hands, my mouth, my release. She glanced back once, that shy smile hitting me like a gut punch, and I gripped the steering wheel harder to keep from following her. Twenty days. That's all we had before Victor and Vanessa came back from their honeymoon, sniffing around like the vultures they were. I wasn't wasting a second. I peeled out of the campus lot, the engine growling in sync with the restlessness churning inside me. The city blurred past—skyscrapers piercing the sky, horns blaring, pedestrians oblivious to the storm raging in my chest. Cassidy was mine now, in ways that went beyond the forbidden thrill of it. Last night, tangled in my sheets,

Dante’s POV The first tear slid down her cheek before she could swipe it away. Quiet. Fragile. Devastating. Cassidy stared out the window like she wished she could dissolve into it, disappear into the glass, into the sky, into anywhere that wasn’t here—with me, with the bruised echo of Ethan’s heartbreak still hanging in the air like smoke. My hands tightened on the steering wheel until the leather groaned under my grip. The engine hummed softly beneath us, a low rumble that did nothing to drown out the tension thickening the air in my sleek black Audi. The campus blurred past us—ivy-covered buildings, clusters of students laughing obliviously, the faint scent of autumn leaves sneaking through the vents. But inside this car, it felt like a pressure cooker, every unsaid word building steam. “Cass.” My voice was low—too low, edged with the frustration I was trying to rein in. “Look at me.” She didn’t. Instead, she pulled her sleeves over her hands, shrinking in on herself l

Dante’s POV The drive back to the penthouse felt like an eternity, the city's rush-hour traffic mocking my impatience. Horns blared outside, but inside the sleek black SUV, the silence between Cassidy and me was heavier than the exhaust fumes choking the streets. Her hand rested in mine on the center console, but it was limp, almost reluctant—like she was still processing the mess I'd made in the courtyard earlier. Ethan. That name still burned in my gut, a jealous flame I couldn't quite extinguish. I'd overreacted, let my possessiveness rear its ugly head, and now I was paying for it with this tense quiet. I glanced at her profile, illuminated by the passing streetlights. Her eyes were closed, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, but I knew she wasn't sleeping. "Cass," I said softly, squeezing her hand. "Talk to me. Yell at me if you need to. Just... don't shut me out." She sighed, opening her eyes but keeping them fixed on the windshield. "I'm not shutting you out, Dante. I'

Cassidy's POV "One more," he demanded, hand reaching around to rub my clit. "Come with me this time." His thrusts were deliberate at first, deep and measured, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slick ease that made my breath hitch every time he bottomed out. From this angle, on my stomach with my ass slightly raised, he felt even bigger, hitting spots that sent electric shocks up my spine. The sheets bunched under my fists as I gripped them, my face pressed into the pillow, muffling my moans. Dante's body covered mine like a blanket of heat, his chest slick with sweat against my back, one arm braced beside my head while the other worked magic between my legs. His fingers danced over my clit—circling, pinching, rubbing—with a rhythm that matched his hips, building that familiar coil in my belly tighter and tighter. "Fuck, Cass... you're gripping me so tight," he groaned, his voice rough and strained, breath hot against the nape of my neck. He nipped at my shoulder, teeth

Cassidy’s POVThe couch creaked beneath us, but the sound was swallowed by the city and by the way Dante filled every other sense. The massive floor-to-ceiling windows glowed with the scattered lights of Manhattan, a thousand anonymous lives pulsing below us like distant stars, completely oblivious to the fact that my entire world had narrowed to the man buried deep between my thighs. His cock throbbed inside me, hot and unyielding, every subtle shift of his hips sending ripples of pleasure through my core. The leather cushions stuck to my sweat-slicked skin, cool against the heat we were generating, and the faint scent of our earlier arousal lingered in the air—musky, intoxicating, mixed with the rich aroma of the cooling Italian takeout on the coffee table.He slowed suddenly.Not stopped—God, no, he never fully stopped when we were like this—but slowed just enough to make my breath catch, my body clench around him on instinct, desperate to pull him deeper. It was torture, exquisite