The Mafia Boss Who Captivated Me

Hey, Kat," Joey says breezily as she wanders into the library where I've been sitting for most of the afternoon, trying my best to read but getting so distracted I think I've read the same chapter half a dozen times and I still can't remember why the female character is so pissed at her boss. I bet it's not because he's being forced to marry her instead of killing her though.

"Hey," I say with a faint smile.

"Dante asked if you could meet him in the dining room."

"I'm not hungry and I'm in the middle of a really good book."

She gives me a sympathetic smile. "I was pissed earlier.

I'm so bored around here and I let my anger at my own situation cloud yours. The truth is my father might treat women like second class citizens, but my brothers don't.

They're maybe a shade too overprotective." She holds her pointer finger and her thumb an inch apart to emphasize her point. "And I know Dante can be a jackass, but he asked me to come get you. So?" she says with a shrug. "And if I don't obey his every command?"

"He'll no doubt walk in here and carry you to the dining room himself."

I ignore her and go back to my reading.

She sits beside me on the huge sofa, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Please, Kat? For me, if not for Dante. I promise it's something nice."

"Nice and your brother do not belong in the same sentence, Joey."

"Come on," she laughs softly, holding out her hand to me.

"Fine," I say with a sigh as I put my book down.

I follow Joey along the hallway. There is a nervous energy about her. What the hell is going on?

She stops outside the door to the dining room and turns to me. "I know he has a really fucked up way of showing it, but Dante would do anything for you, Kat." Then she leans forward and gives me a quick peck on the cheek before she opens the door. "Have a wonderful time."

She walks away, and I step into the room. Dante is at the dining table, dressed in a black shirt and black suit pants.

His shirt sleeves are rolled up, exposing his huge, tattooed forearms. I'm so focused on him that it takes me a moment to see the white rose petals scattered over the table and the candles that are strategically placed around the entire room. He stands when he sees me and suddenly, I feel very underdressed in my maternity leggings and tank top, not to mention the old cardigan that once belonged to my mom.

Yes, that is how old some of my clothes are.

"What is all this?" I ask him with a frown.

"I believe it's called dinner," he says as he pulls out a chair opposite his and indicates me to sit.

I sit on the proffered chair and it's only then that I see the delicious peace offering sitting in the center of the table. I lean over and look closely at the cheesecake of my dreams.

"Is that from Mona's?"

"It is."

"How did you know about my salted caramel cheesecake fetish?"

"Joey told me," he replies as he takes a seat.

"Of course. I told her about it a while back. I didn't realize she'd sell me out to you though."

A flicker of annoyance flashes across his face, but when he sees my grin, it disappears. "She didn't sell you out. She actually told me what an asshole I've been."

My eyes narrow as I stare at him. "For real?"

"For real."

"I always did like her."

"Liar," he says with a wink and my heart rate kicks up a notch. Why does he have to act like such an arrogant tool most of the time, when he can be like this? "So, can I have a slice?" I ask, reaching for the knife in the center of the table.

"How about we eat dinner first? Sophia is making your favorite."

"Her amazing lasagna?" I groan as my stomach growls loudly. "Yes."

"Then I can wait." I rest my hands on the table in front of me.

"You look beautiful," he says, his eyes narrowed as he watches me intently.

I pull at the tattered edge of my old cardigan. I feel anything but beautiful right now, but the heat in his gaze tells me he's not lying. It makes me squirm in my seat. Dammit, I'm so easy for him.

As though he's reading my mind, he laughs softly.

"What?" I squeeze my thighs together beneath the table.

"I love the way you blush whenever I compliment you, kitten."

I look down at the table as my blush deepens further.

"It's embarrassing."

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"It's adorable."

I swallow as I allow my gaze to drift back to his. The way he's still looking at me is doing nothing to lessen the heat in my cheeks or between my thighs. Thankfully, Sophia walks into the dining room carrying a huge dish of lasagna and breaks the spell he has me under.

PLACING my hands on my stomach, I groan softly. "I think I ate too much."

"You barely ate any of the cheesecake," Dante replies as he watches me from across the table.

"Because it's bigger than my head. You should have had a slice."

"I don't eat sweet things," he replies with a wicked grin.

"Well, apart from you, kitten."

I blush at his words. We've managed to have a very polite, bordering on pleasant, dinner, without any talk of sex or the other massive elephant in the room - our upcoming wedding. "You just had to go there, didn't you?" I whisper, placing my cool hand on my flushed cheek.

"I can't help going there with you," he says, his tone low and serious now. It makes goosebumps prickle over my forearms and my insides turn to liquid. I'm such a slave to my hormones around him, especially now that I'm pregnant. It's as though my body is hardwired to his in some way.

I fidget with a stray thread on the sleeve of my cardigan because suddenly the air is thick with tension again, supercharged with electricity and sex. He pushes back his chair and walks to my side of the table. I expect him to pick me up and throw me onto the dining table, because that is how our encounters like this seem to end. But instead, he drops to his knees.

When he produces a beautiful emerald ring, I almost pass out. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger and the deep green gemstone sparkles in the candlelight.

"Will you marry me, Kat?"

Instead of answering, I sit here like an idiot blinking at him.

"Maybe I should have done this before," he says with a sigh.

"It wouldn't change the reason why you're asking me though," I remind him, my voice barely a whisper.

He rubs a hand over my gently rounded stomach before taking hold of my hand in his, lacing his fingers through mine. "We are in this together, Kat. Me and you. My father can go to hell for all I care. The Moretti name is an empire built on a century-strong foundation of blood and tradition.

It's my legacy. Everything I have and everything I am is saturated in the misery of others and the perpetuation of outdated traditions. This house, and everything in it, was built and bought with blood-soaked money," he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb over my knuckles as he stares into my eyes.

"Everything in my life has been given to me because of who I am. Everything except you, kitten. You are the only thing in my life that I have ever truly chosen for myself. So yes, I want to marry you because I want to honor my family and my mother's memory, but I also want you to stand by my side until the end of days."

I swallow the swell of emotion that surges all the way from the pit of my stomach to my chest. This is the first time I have ever seen even a hint of anything resembling vulnerability in him. He's trying, right? Fighting against his true nature to give me something of what I need from him.

And shouldn't that count for something? Because the truth is, I feel more cherished in his darkness than I have ever have in anyone else's light. "Yes, I'll marry you."

The thick vein pulses in his neck before he looks up at me again with dark eyes full of fire.

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He slides the flawless stone onto my finger. "It's beautiful," I tell him.

"It was my great grandmother's."

"Really?" Suddenly, this moment feels even more intense than before. "She believed it had magic powers," he says with a wry smile. "Good magic, right?"

"The best," he replies before giving me a soft kiss on the lips.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to turn into something more, as it always does with him. And as he slides his tongue inside my mouth, he wraps me in his arms. He stands and then pulls me up from my chair before lifting me onto the table. And without breaking our kiss, he sits in my now vacant chair.

His hands slide over my skin, pushing off my cardigan before placing it on the chair beside him and that simple act makes my heart swell. He usually tosses my discarded clothes with no consideration for where they end up, but I told him once that was my mother's cardigan and how much it means to me.

"Time for my dessert," he growls as he breaks our kiss and starts to pull off my leggings and panties.

"You're so unoriginal," I giggle as I wriggle my ass to help him.

"You won't be saying that when I've got my tongue in your sweet cunt, kitten." He pulls my clothes off over my feet and tosses them unceremoniously over his shoulder.

"Maybe." I thread my fingers through his hair as he bends his head and begins to trail soft, featherlight kisses from my knees up my thighs. His hot breath dusts over my skin, making me shiver.

"You smell so good, Kat," he murmurs against my skin as he pushes my thighs wider apart until I'm spread open for him. "So fucking wet for me too." He drags one finger through my folds, and I suck in a quick breath.

Then he clears the plates off from behind me with one sweep of his arm before pushing me back on the table. He lifts my legs by my ankles, planting my feet on his shoulders as he pushes my thighs wide. "Such a sweet fica," he breathes against my skin, his voice so low and husky that it vibrates through my body.

His tongue dances over my skin, working his way to the top of my thighs before he flicks it lightly over my pussy, making my back bow in pleasure.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

"Dante," I groan, tugging his hair harder, trying to direct him to where I want him to concentrate his efforts.

"So impatient for my mouth, kitten."

"Because you're teasing me," I protest.

"I'm not," he laughs softly. "But we're not in any hurry.

Let me take my time with you because after I eat you right here, I'm taking you to bed to fuck you all night."

"You're a devil," I whimper as he lazily runs his tongue along my wet center before swirling it over my sensitive clit. My hands fall from his hair as the warm waves of pleasure roll over me, and I rock my hips until stars flicker behind my eyelids. If he promises to do this for the rest of our days, then maybe marrying this devil won't be such a bad thing after all.