Dante Crescendo Novels & Stories

Dante leaned down, biting my neck, marking me while his hand stroked us both together. “Tell us who you are,” Dante whispered against my skin. “Yours,” I gasped. “Just… yours.” Rocco hummed around me vibration shooting straight to my spine. They built it slow Dante grinding against me, Rocco sucking deeper, fingers slipping inside to stretch, prepare. No rush. Just claiming. Reaffirming. When Rocco entered me slow, deep Dante shifted, guiding my mouth to his cock. I took him eagerly tongue swirling, throat relaxing while Rocco thrust in perfect rhythm. Hands everywhere: Dante’s fingers in my hair, Rocco’s bruising my hips.

“To those who doubted me, consider this my resurrection.” Leo stood beside her, expression unreadable, but I saw it, the cold confidence, the power. Behind them was a logo I recognized too well. Lorenzo’s symbol, reborn, rebranded. Marco burst back into the room, eyes wide. “Dante, you need to see this—” “I’m already watching,” I said quietly, my pulse pounding. Vanessa leaned closer to the mic, smiling into the camera. “To my dearest Carina Russo and Dante Vale… thank you for the fire that forged us.”

I asked, enjoying the feeling of Dante’s touch. “They went to the main house to make sure everything was progressing the way it should be, and that all the necessary items were brought here. I drew the short straw, or the best straw.” I went over to the shower bench and sat back down. All I could do was stare at Dante. Dante was about 6’5” tall, he is slightly shorter than the triplets and Benji, but not by much, he has long, lean legs with well-defined quads and calves. Dante has golden brown eyes with flecks of green, he has broad shoulders, and strong biceps. Dante has eight-pack abs, and his hip bones stick out just a little bit. He’s not skinny, he has great muscle tone, but he could us

Bianca groaned into his mouth, her teeth clashing against his as she fought for dominance. He hiked her skirt up, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. "You think you can handle this?" he muttered against her skin, his breath hot and ragged. "F**k you," she gasped, her legs locking around his waist. Dante groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through her entire frame. He fumbled with his belt, his movements frantic, lacking any of his usual grace. He was trembling. The "perfect" Vane heir was falling apart in her hands. He ripped her lace underwear aside, the fabric tearing with a sharp zip that sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core.

His jaw flexed, teeth grinding hard enough to crack bone. “Get the fuck out,” Alessio snapped. His voice was stripped raw, not loud but lethal, a growl dragged straight from somewhere primal. Dante tilted his head, slow, like a wolf humoring a dog’s bark. The faintest smirk curled at his mouth. “Why would I? This view…” His eyes dragged, merciless, lingering deliberately on the glisten of cum streaking down Noa’s inner thigh. “…is better than anything I’ve ever paid for.”

Dante woke up on the morning of Mia’s return to the sound of a string quartet tuning up in his backyard. When he walked outside, he found Enzo standing in the middle of what had apparently become a full-blown production overnight. There were rows of white folding chairs lined up along the garden path, a floral arbor set up by the fountain that had clearly cost a fortune on short notice, and four very confused musicians standing next to a massive gold banner that screamed: WILL YOU MARRY DANTE MORETTI?

I opened the first page. The Roma's are a very rich and influential people in the whole of italy, they are half America and half italian, there own the biggest Wine producing company here in italy and have more company's, the Roma's Only heir Dante Roma born on the 14 of December 1990 is the only surviving member of the family and is the CEO of over 7 big product company and industries, well known and influential. I paused. Dante is an orphan? He doesn't have a family, maybe that's why he's so mean. I bet he doesn’t knows what being a family guy is.

“Did the market suddenly double overnight?” Dante chuckled, and then looked lovingly at the glass of wine in his hand. “Better. Much better.” “Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to guess, boss?” Dante left his chair and walked lazily over to the world, looking out as the sun slowly began to set in the horizon. The Roman skyline glowed in golden light, a vision of history and power stretching endlessly. “I think I may have finally found the perfect way to wipe out the Morrettis.”

“Tesoro, it’s done. Ricci’s down, Russians too, all dead. Bassano’s ours. Hit the west now, full sweep. Take every fucking inch of Ricci’s territories. Leave nothing.” Dante’s voice came back, rough with hunger. “Fucking beautiful, amore mio. I’m moving. Treviso and Mestre are mine by dawn.” “Do it clean,” I said, a smirk tugging my lips. “Carlos keeps Bassano and his other claims. We’re rewriting the map.” “Consider it done,” he said, a growl in his tone. “Can’t wait to see you, principessa.” I laughed, low. “Focus, Dante. You’ll get your reward when this is over.”

(Attraction/Admission) Ethan Vale didn’t do parties. He did case law, 4.0 GPAs, and the kind of silence that made people nervous. At Crestwood University, he was Ace—untouchable, unreadable, the glacier of the law faculty who could dismantle an argument before breakfast and never let anyone see the cracks. Tonight, the cracks were threatening to show. Mara had blackmailed him with the threat of burning his annotated torts binder. The binder was sacred. Two semesters of color-coded notes lived inside it, along with the fragile remains of Ethan’s sanity.