Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride novel Chapter 21

Dante’s POV

I turned Gia around to face me.

Her lashes were wet, her cheeks blotched and red from crying.

Without saying a word, I lifted her into my arms. Her body trembled against me, but she didn’t resist like before. The fight had drained out of her, and for a second, I saw a raw, broken emotion flash through her eyes before she looked away.

She curled into me like a wilted flower folding inward, soft and instinctive, as if I were the only thing holding her together. The simplicity of it, so innocent, so unguarded, punched a hole straight through my chest. I didn’t want to lean into the feeling that clawed its way up, so I buried it deep, where it couldn’t touch me.

With her in my arms, I walked over to the chair and sat down, keeping her cradled close against my chest.

For a long moment, I just held her, giving her space to breathe, letting her settle. So she knew that she wasn’t going anywhere.

My gaze roamed over her face again, swollen and flushed, her lips parted around small, shaky breaths. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

“Do you truly regret your actions?” I asked, my voice low but firm, forcing her eyes to meet mine.

She hesitated, then nodded. Her fingers brushed beneath one eye, wiping away a fresh tear before it fell. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yes.”

It was either the truth… or she was just too tired to lie.

I groaned, not out of anger, but out of a darker urge twisting low in my gut.

“I’ll make it better.”

Before she could ask what I meant, I moved.

I shifted her, flipping her carefully across my lap. Her upper body lay against the armrest while her hips settled across my thighs. Her legs dangled over one side of mine, helpless, exposed, completely at my mercy.

Exactly where I wanted her.

I placed my palm on her lower back, grounding her, letting her feel the weight of it. Her breath hitched. She thought I’d punish her again.

I lifted the hem of her dress once more, dragging the fabric up slowly until her red, tender, sore, beautiful ass was completely exposed to me.

My palm swept across her skin, not to strike, not yet, but to soothe the sting of every earlier blow and remind her that I controlled both pain and pleasure.

She sucked in a breath, her body stilling under my touch, not from fear. No… from knowing I could do anything to her, and maybe from wanting me to.

I slid my fingers lower, between her thighs, and found her heat, still slick and wanting.

A low moan escaped her, barely audible, but I felt it in her. Her body trembled faintly against my thighs, and that was all the permission I needed.

I stroked her slowly, my fingers gliding over the soft, wet folds, circling her entrance lazily, watching her thighs twitch as sweet sensations coiled inside her.

She gasped, her fingers digging into my thighs.

“D…a…n…te…” she breathed, her voice splintering.

God, I loved hearing my name like that, shaken from her lips, fractured with need.

I smirked, drinking in the sound, the way her body moved under my hands, helpless against the pleasure building in her.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify