Dante peered down at me, his brows drawn together and a muscle in his cheek twitching. “Tell me when I can move,” he gritted out, surprising me with that show of compassion.

I wiggled, impatient, desperate to have Dante move in me. There was still a slight discomfort but that too was getting better. “It’s okay.”

He nodded, then pulled almost all the way out before sliding back in. My muscles gripped his cock tightly, still trying to get used to the invasion, but I could feel a hint of pleasure behind the soreness as Dante fell into a slow rhythm. I wished he would come down on his forearms so we could be closer but he braced himself on his palms. I guessed I shouldn’t have expected anything else. He’d warned me, but at least he was careful and hadn’t pounced on me.

I let out a small moan as he hit a delicious spot deep inside me. Dante sped up, his thrusts becoming more forceful. His face was filled with concentration. He didn’t make loud noises, but his panting was coming quicker. I loved watching him, loves seeing the small twitches and flickers in his cold mask when his pleasure spiked.

“It’s been a while for me,” he warned in a rough voice. “I don’t know how long I can last.” I was surprised by his admittance. I didn’t think he was a man who readily admitted to anything resembling weakness in his mind. I was glad for that small flicker of humanness.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t as if I was going to come again. I could tell that I was close to the limit of what I could take.

His movements became even faster and less restrained, almost jerky and unhinged. And then he finally lowered himself to his forearms, bringing us closer than we’d ever been, our bodies pressed against each other as if we were one, and he really started to pound into me, hard and fast, and my soreness turned into an insistent twinge, but I didn’t even care. I could feel his heat through his clothes. His vest rubbed my sensitive nipples, and yet I wished I could have felt his skin, but even that wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was that Dante was finally making me a woman, finally allowing closeness. Maybe this was a new beginning, the real start of our marriage. I clung to his back and buried my face in the crook of his neck as Dante thrust into me a few more times.

He groaned, his body tensing and then I felt his erection expand in me, followed by the strange sensation of him coming in me. I pulled back, wanting to see his face. For once the mask was gone. He looked disheveled, approachable, less unforgiving somehow. He shuddered once more before he lowered his face and brushed his lips against mine, his tongue sliding over my lips lightly. I eagerly opened my mouth for him. Our tongues met and I was in heaven. I’d waited for our first real kiss for so long and now it was happening. He tasted perfect, and I loved the feeling of his weight on top of me, and the sensation of his softening cock inside me. Maybe everything would change now. I slipped my hands under his shirt and ran them up and down his back, my fingers finding every scar, mapping his body. He felt so warm and strong. He felt like he was mine.

Dante stopped kissing me, and our eyes met, and suddenly his walls went back up. I could see it happening. Like the curtains closing at the end of a play. He raised himself up to his palms. “Are you okay?” he asked, already pulling out of me in a swift motion. I gasped at the brief pain and Dante hovered over me for a moment, a hint of hesitation in his expression, but it was gone quickly and he straightened, holding up his shirt so it didn’t get dirty. “I need to get cleaned up,” he said matter-of-factly as if he was telling me the weather forecast, as if we hadn’t just slept together. He watched me an instant longer, then he disappeared in the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, the water started running.

I didn’t move from my spot in the middle of the bed, desperately trying to sort out my emotions. There was relief over finally having gotten rid of my virginity, but there was also a strange sense of sadness. I wasn’t someone who needed to be coddled but I wished Dante would have stayed with me a bit longer after he was done.

Disappointment washed over me and I closed my eyes against the rising emotion. I wasn’t sure how long I lay like that but I was startled by Dante’s cool voice above me. “Here.”

My eyes fluttered open. He stood beside the bed, already dressed in his briefs again and was holding a washcloth out for me.

I took it from him and pressed it against my sore flesh, ignoring the blush that crept up into my face. Wouldn’t he lie down with me for a little while at least? I really wanted him to hold me, even if he had to pretend to care for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him.

“Would you like me to touch you, so you can come too?”

I stared at him. He sounded so matter-of-fact. I shook my head. I wanted his closeness, but not like this, not now. He nodded and grabbed the pants from the ground, then put them on. “I have some more work to do and I need to visit another of our casinos. I’ll be home late. You don’t need to wait up for me.”

I nodded, couldn’t have said a word if I’d tried.

After another lingering glance at my naked body, Dante walked out of the room. I listened to his retreating steps. When I couldn’t hear him anymore, I sat up, and winced at the twinge between my legs. I stared down at the washcloth in my hand, which had a few pink spots on it, and a silly sense of accomplishment filled me. It banished the disappointment over Dante’s coldness. For now I wanted to be happy. I’d finally gotten what I wanted. Now that Dante had given in once, I was sure he would have a much harder time holding himself back. And I was determined to make it as hard as possible for him. I’d gotten my first real taste of pleasure; from now on I wanted to experience it over and over again.

CHAPTER TEN

I didn’t even notice Dante slip into bed that night, but his side was rumpled, so he must have slept in it. I spent a few more minutes in bed, feeling somehow lighter now that I’d ripped down one barrier between Dante and me, but I wasn’t kidding myself into believing that sex would change our relationship fundamentally. I didn’t think Dante would suddenly act like the loving and caring husband I’d wanted when I was younger. It was strange. While Antonio had never been able to give me what I physically needed, he’d been my friend and confidante. We’d spent time together when he wasn’t busy and I’d never felt overly lonely in our marriage. I had a feeling the same wouldn’t be true in my second marriage. Even if Dante now satisfied my sexual needs, it would take some time before we’d become partners.

After I’d showered and dressed in my favorite plum pencil skirt and a white blouse, I headed into one of the guestrooms that now harbored a few of my moving boxes that I hadn’t unpacked yet. It took me a few minutes of rummaging before I found what I was looking for, a wooden case where I kept a few things from Antonio. Inside were our wedding bands, which I’d never much cared about. The most important thing in the case was a thin photo album that held mostly pictures of the time before Antonio and I had married. Back then we’d only been friends without the added weight of having to pretend to be more. Antonio looked nothing like Dante. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and wasn’t very tall. He’d never wanted me to wear heels so I wasn’t taller than him. But appearances weren’t the biggest difference between my first and my second husband; that was their aura. Where Antonio had been open and friendly, someone people perceived as a likeable albeit ordinary buddy type, Dante oozed power and cold. Nobody would mistake him for a follower. If Dante hadn’t been born into our world, he’d probably be a governor or senator. He would have done well in that world. But as with all of us¸ our birth determined our fate. We were all bound to the mob. I glanced down at a photo of Antonio and me on a horse. It had been the first time for me. We both looked young and happy, hopeful. Antonio hadn’t been inducted into the mafia back then, had still thought he could find a way out of his duty.