Page 44 of Chaos & Carnage
Not knowing what to say, I continue to stare up into his dark eyes as I try to think of the right words. Words that won’t send him running away. But before I can put together a sentence, he speaks first.
“You definitely want this? You’ve already had all three of them.”
Is he… worried that I won't want or need him because I have Cain, Oliver, and Enzo?
I take a second to think through my response. “Yes. I want this. I want you. Them. All four of you. I’m not complete without you, Dante. You’re an essential part of this equation, and no matter how many orgasms they may give me, I will always need whatyougive me.”
He takes a moment to digest what I said. My words aren’t eloquent. Nothing like the heartfelt things he’s said to me, but I hope my sincerity is enough to compensate for it. Only when he gives a slight nod do I let out the breath I was holding.
He brushes his thumb over my lip again. “In that case, you better open up.”
I smile coyly before doing just that, watching impatiently as he pushes down his boxers and lifts out his very hard dick. I immediately lean in to lick the tip, humming at the saltiness on my tongue, before swallowing him down.
He grunts, and I somehow manage a cocky smirk. Seeing it, a challenge burns in his gaze before he thrusts forward, and I’m pushed back against Cain’s chest while he fucks my face with wild abandonment. Cain’s arm bands around me, holding me upright, and I can feel his dick begin to harden while still inside me. He starts to play with my nipple, teasing it into a stiff peak before pinching, pain intertwining with the pleasure building low in my core.
His other hand moves to play with my swollen and oversensitive clit. It takes next to no time before I’m trembling. “Let go,mia vita,” Dante growls, each word emphasized with a thrust that has him hitting the back of my throat.
My body responds to his commands, my orgasm immediately exploding through me with all the swiftness of a lightning strike, and a second later, Dante pushes so deep that he blocks my airway, swearing as his release spills down my throat.
Fully satisfied and thoroughly wrung out, I collapse back against Cain, my eyelids already drifting shut with the promise of sleep. A soft hand strokes my hair. “Sleep,mia vita.”
Chapter 16
“Why do you think the fire station collapsed?” Enzo asks at breakfast the next morning. After ourescapadeslast night—both with the Grim Bastards and between the bedsheets—we all slept in, so breakfast is more like lunch.
All five of us are sitting around an old-style wooden table in the dated kitchen. We’ve been discussing the events of last night, Enzo, Cain, and Oliver filling Dante and me in on what happened after the building collapsed. Cain and I checked in on Luc and Evie when we woke up, and Bones called from the hospital earlier. Marcus had to have surgery on his leg, but both he and Tank are stable. Thank goodness. I don’t know what we would have done if we’d lost either of them. We were incredibly fortunate that none of our people died last night, but it begs the question, how many more will we lose before this war is over?
“No idea,” Cain answers. “The whole building was probably structurally unsound. It wouldn’t surprise me if Grim let the place go to wreck and ruin. So long as it looked okay on the outside, for appearance's sake. He wouldn’t have given a shit about what his men were living in. I’ll get men out to assess the situation today, but given the damage, we may never know the true cause.”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” I say with a shrug. “Either way, the Bastards are no longer a threat. Did you see what happened to Grim?” I direct the question to Cain and Oliver since Enzo, Dante, and I didn’t cross paths with him.
“He’s buried beneath a car’s weight of concrete.” We all stare at Cain with surprise and relief—except Dante, whose expression is a blank slate, as always.
“You sure?”
Cain’s eyes narrow on Dante. “Of course, I’m fucking sure. I stayed until I was certain there was no chance he could make it out alive. How the fuck do you think I busted my ankle?”
“I just assumed you tripped over your own feet or something equally embarrassing.”
Did Dante just make a joke?!
I’m not the only one who seems surprised. “Well, well, look who has a sense of humor all of a sudden,” Enzo jokes, clapping Dante on the shoulder. “Bloodshed and orgasms look good on you, my friend.”
Dante glowers furiously, daring anyone else to comment. Smothering my laugh, I slip out of my chair and into his lap. I ruin the totaldon’t mess with mevibes he’s giving off by planting my lips on his, not removing them until I feel the tension bleed out of his body. My kiss is a thank you, one of recognition for the effort he just made. Just like I know Enzo’s jesting is done to help ease any uncertainty Dante might have been feeling.
All of this is new to him—camaraderie, relying on others, working as a team. I see the efforts he’s been making, and more importantly, I see his inner struggle when it comes to making these compromises. I owe him big time, but overall, I know he has the potential to gain a lot from developing a friendship with Cain and Oliver. I can picture a future where Dante talks and laughs with them, the four sharing a brotherhood of sorts. It’s a future I imagine Dante never saw for himself. One he probably still can’t wrap his head around. It’s also one he will have to put the work into, if it’s something he wants. I know he’s doing all of this for me—making an effort with them—but I want him to do it for himself too.
Shifting in Dante’s lap so I’m leaning back against his chest, I ask Cain, “What happened to Grim?”
“While we were fighting off his men, I saw him sneak out of the room. Being the pussy that he is, he obviously decided to run from the fight and leave his people to their fates. A true leader.” Cain scoffs in disgust. “I followed and caught up to him right before the entire building started groaning and crumbling down around us. Before I could do the world a favor and kill him myself, the ceiling above him broke apart. He got trapped beneath it.” He frowns. “There was no fucking way I was going to walk away without making sure he was definitely dead. As I was making my way across the room to put a bullet in his brain, the whole building shook again, dislodging more concrete. A bit struck me, and whatever way I went down, I rolled my ankle.”
“And let me guess, you got right back up, ignoring all the signs that you shouldn’t be walking on your ankle.”
Cain shoots Oliver a roguish grin. “I wasn’t about to let a measly sprain stop me from killing that fucker.”
I roll my eyes. “Your ankle is the size of a bowling ball!” The damn thing has gotten even bigger since last night, and no matter how much I insist, Cain won’t go to the hospital. Stubborn ass! At least he let me wrap an ice pack around it last night—not that it seems to have helped with the swelling much.
“Now that he’s gone and the clubhouse is destroyed, the Bastards are no longer an issue… which just leaves Giovanni.” I turn my head to look at Enzo as Cain nods.