Looks like Dante is trying hard to make things up.
Dinner is amazing. If it’s even possible, Mrs. Hughes made the signature dish from Tavern on the Green better than they do.“How’s work been this week? I know it’s gotta be tough working from here, but thank you for doing it,” Dante says, handing me one of the platters.Pleased that he’s asking about my job, I answer, “It’s been a bit of a challenge not being able to walk down the hall and talk to my people, but I’m making it work. Thank you for all the help you’ve given me. Setting up not one, but two rooms for me has been really helpful.”Dante reaches for my hand and squeezes it, making sure I’m looking at him. “This is your house too, Quinn. If you need it, it’s yours.”I pause, surprised. Thinking about it, I realize I’ve never really thought of this place as mine. With Dante and I not having the most peaceful relationship since the honeymoon—and me staying at the office for over a week—it’s felt more like a storage unit for my things than an actual home.“You’re right. I’m just…”
The kiss starts off slow, but full of passion. Dante presses me into him, letting me feel every hard plane of his chest, abs, and thighs. His lips and tongue are slow, but demanding.He growls low when my hand tangles in his hair, nails raking across the sensitive skin at his nape. One of his hands slides to my neck, holding me still, while the other grabs my ass, grinding the lower half of my body into his growing arousal.His tongue delves into my mouth as his thumb and fingers press just lightly at either side of my neck. He’s not choking me—yet—but the promise is there if I want it. For now, it’s more of a possessive hold. And that’s a fucking turn-on all by itself.I groan, loving how he knows exactly what he’s doing—and how close I already am to falling apart.“You like that, cara mia?” Dante whispers against my lips.“Yes,” I hiss.He smiles into the kiss and starts trailing his lips down my jaw, nipping along my throat.“Topina, consumerò il tuo corpo, proprio come hai consumat
I thought that I wouldn’t be able to scream again. Not with all the pleasure that Dante has given me and the amount of screaming that I’ve already done tonight because of it. I was wrong. The second that Dante slams into me, my back bows and my eyes roll back in my head. It feels so amazingly good that I have no control of my body. All I can do is wrap my hands around the nylon attaching my cuffs to the bed and take what Dante gives me. “Hoooooly shiiiiit,” Dante draws out, his body stilling the second that he’s fully seated inside of me. “Your pussy is so tight and wet and warm, baby girl. You’ve been wanting Daddy inside of you, haven’t you?” I can’t form words. That’s too much to ask with the weight of nearly 10 aborted orgasms wanting release that only Dante can give me. All I can do is moan and nod my head vigorously. Dante pushes the leg on his shoulder down and bends over my body. It pushes his cock even deeper inside of me and I writhe beneath him. He capture
I have never slept so well in my entire life.I passed out while Dante held me after we had sex. He took his time with aftercare—rubbing my wrists to make sure blood flow returned, smoothing a salve over the slight red marks left by the cuffs. After a bottle of Gatorade and some snacks, he pulled me into his body and stroked my arms, side, and cheek until I fell asleep.Only to wake me up a few hours later by sliding himself inside me from the spooning position we were in. His pace was slow and intentional. He took me like he was savoring me—like a fine wine. He moved me around like a fucking pretzel, contorting my body in ways I had no idea it could move to hit different spots inside me. Even though it was technically "vanilla" in pure BDSM terms, it was some of the hottest, most athletic sex I’ve ever had.After two more rounds, the sky had started to lighten outside and both of us were covered in sweat and thoroughly sated. Dante wiped me down with a wet washcloth and a towel. By th
“Come, topina. Shower. Get dressed. We are going to see my father,” Dante says, already heading into the bathroom.Is this man insane?!“Dante!” I call after him, scrambling out of bed and nearly falling as I untangle myself from the bedsheets. I hurry into the bathroom to find him already stepping into the shower. The water is running hot, steam curling through the air.“Dante! Come on. This doesn’t have to be a thing. I’m already working from home, with only a few people allowed to come see me. I can’t even remember the last time I left the house.”He rounds on me, grabs me, and pulls me under the water with him, backing me up against the cold tile. “Are you complaining, cara mia? When someone has threatened your life?”I can see how upset he is, and normally I’d have my back up, hissing right back at him.But something about his anger on my behalf, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes... it melts something inside me. It makes me want to soothe him. To calm him however I can.I reac
That meeting with the Don was a week ago. Yeah, I returned to work. Though very weary about what could be going on around me at any time, I can’t lie and say that I’m not happy to be out of the house. You try being under house arrest 24/7. Even in the biggest, nicest house out there, you’re going to get sick of the walls surrounding you and want to bust out at some point. I mean, I definitely enjoyed my time with Dante at our home, but I needed to be around other people. Go out to dinner with friends. Enjoy life, not just be afraid of death. Unfortunately, Dante didn’t see things that way. He must of tripled my guards, which I know was a major bit of contention between him and his father. His Dad said that they just didn’t have the personal to do that. Dante said that then they needed to get more guys or the Don needed to get off the fact that I needed to be in the office. The screaming that I heard on the phone wasn’t what I woul
When I wake up, I’m lying on the floor, surrounded by people.Grayson and Emily are at one side, their hands fluttering like they want to touch me but don’t know how. The manager and our waitress are rushing over with ice and chef towels, trying to keep me comfortable and minimize the swelling on the back of my head—which I definitely hit on the way down.I hear Josiah and Emilio talking at the same time and slowly turn my head toward them.“Don’t move your head, Quinn,” Josiah says gently, using one of the towels to stabilize my neck. “You hit it pretty hard. We need to be careful. I’m going to put some ice on your head, okay? Are you in any pain?”“N-no…” I murmur. I feel… off. Not pain, exactly—more like I’m floating. “I feel weird. A little nauseous. Kinda hard to focus.”Meanwhile, I hear Emilio in the background, talking into his phone. “Yeah, 21-year-old female. She collapsed and hit her head on the floor—pretty hard.”He’s on with dispatch.“Okay. Are you seeing double?” Josiah
Holy shit, I’m pregnant.I’m too stunned to be excited.Dr. Groves told us that the reason I passed out was a combination of low blood sugar and low iron. He prescribed iron supplements and strongly recommended I see my GYN as soon as possible. There’s a chance I’ve been borderline diabetic for a while—and pregnancy might have pushed me over the line. My A1C levels are high, and he wants to make sure I don’t need to be on insulin.As it is, I’m being kept overnight to monitor for complications from the concussion. I’m pretty sure that has more to do with who I’m married to than any true medical concern, but I’m not going to argue. It’s a fight I’ll lose, especially once Dante gets here.After Dr. Groves leaves, Josiah turns to me with a huge smile. “Congratulations, Quinn. I know Dante’s going to be really happy.”Shit. I haven’t told Dante yet.I grab Josiah’s arm. “Please don’t tell him. Not yet. I want to get in with my doctor first—make sure everything’s okay with the baby and that
Hey friends!Thank you so much for reading Yours On the Dotted Line. I hope that you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Here are a couple of announcements/interesting information for you.If you are interested in what I listen to while I’m writing, you can find my playlist “Creative Juices” on Spotify. I love all different kinds of music, so there's a little something for everyone.I write all different kinds of books. If you’re interested, you can find my other books on these platforms:GoodNovel:Trio of Mates Series: 4 werewolf books that take on the idea of what would happen if one of the leadership was gay and couldn’t produce an heir. Lots of very graphic smut. (completed)Love in the Time of Quarantine: 4 short stories that look at what happens when you are stuck with someone you didn’t expect during quarantine. Lots of very graphic smut. (completed)Dissonance and Harmony: The story of a high school girl who has to face her rapist at his sentencing hearing and deal
Bora Bora. Our final night. Our favorite kind of storm.“DANTE!” I scream, my fingers curling into his hair, holding him against me as I ride his face.His mouth is locked onto my clit, sucking and tugging just right, while his fingers curve inside me with that relentless, perfect come here motion.I’ve only ever squirted with Dante—and even then, it’s rare. It takes that crushing, desperate kind of need, the one only he can stir up. It’s different than a typical orgasm—pressure building until it feels like I might break—but the release… God, the release is so fucking good. It leaves me limp. Soaked. Ruined in the best way.He knows what he’s doing to me right now. From the way his fingers stroke my g-spot, he’s trying to make sure I’m blissed-out and limp when he finally fucks me.His moan vibrates through me, and I clench hard around his fingers. I can feel the wave rising—hot and fast and inevitable.My grip tightens in his hair, probably painful by now, but he just groans louder, d
Back in Bora Bora. The water. The fire. The man I love.Dante chases me into the ocean—not that I can get very far. Or want to.He’s stripped off everything, tossing his clothes in a careless heap on the sand. The last thing I see flying is his Versace watch, sailing somewhere in the general direction of his pants.Then he’s sprinting into the water after me.I make it to about hip-deep before Dante catches me.“Fuck, cara mia, you’re so sexy,” he growls, his hands immediately on me. He starts with my stomach—tender, reverent—before sliding down to my ass to yank me against him, then up to my breasts, cupping them through the water. “I need you.”“You have me, baby,” I murmur, teasing. “What are you gonna do with me now that you’ve caught me?”He chuckles darkly. “Anything I want.”His hand fists in my hair, pulling just enough to tilt my head back. Then his mouth crashes onto mine, full of heat and dominance.God, I love when he takes control like this. It melts me, makes me ache to g
One week after the spa day. Four and a half months pregnant.“Mama! I want to go play in the pool! Let me go!”Freddie is squirming all over the place, trying to break free from my arms so he can bolt out the kitchen door into the backyard of the Luciano estate.Okay, I can’t blame him. I’ve been holding him for five solid minutes, not quite ready to let go.“Topina, you have to let him go. We’re going to miss our flight,” Dante murmurs against my shoulder, his breath low and warm, sending a shiver straight down my spine.“You own the plane,” I pout. “What’s the point of owning a private jet if you can’t leave when you want?”I know he’s right, though. I need to let Freddie go.But this is the first time I’ll be away from him for longer than a weekend—and he’s always just been a short drive away, staying with Grayson and Rocco, or Emily and Josiah, or Nonna and Nonno. This time, I won’t be able to just jump in the car if he needs me.I finally let him wiggle free, and he sprints outsid
Four months pregnant. One week from our anniversary.After my spa day with Bianca, I went to Freddie’s preschool to pick him up. He runs straight out the door and launches himself into my arms.“Mommy! Mommy! I’m so excited!” he cries as I catch him and hold him tight.I won’t be able to pick him up much longer. At four months pregnant, my OB-GYN would probably have a heart attack if she saw me carrying him right now. But it’s something I know I’ll miss. I’ve decided to carry him until our anniversary next week—when I hit the five-month mark.Yes, it’s completely arbitrary. But I made the decision. And I’m sticking to it.“Hello, amore. How was your day? What’s got you so excited?” I ask as I shift him on my hip and start walking toward the car.Josiah, standing nearby with Emilio, clucks his tongue when he sees me carrying Freddie. But he doesn’t say anything—smart man. Experience has taught him that arguing with a pregnant woman is a fool’s game.“School was great! Conner found a b
One month later…When I first met Bianca, I thought she was stuck-up, petty, and materialistic. I honestly would’ve bet money that she’d want a black-tie affair—no kids allowed—in the most expensive and exclusive venue in all of New York.Now that I really know her, I couldn’t have been more wrong.Yeah, the girl loves to shop. And yeah, she’s never been spotted without her red-bottomed shoes and a Kate Spade bag. But when it comes to what really matters? Bianca is all about family.“Honestly, Quinn, I’d love to just go down to City Hall with the family and then go out for dinner. But you know Papà won’t allow that,” she groans.It’s been a month since my brother proposed, and despite Emilia’s best efforts to drag Bianca into full wedding-planning mode, she’s managed to dodge every attempt so far.Today, we’re having a spa day. Facials, massages, pedicures, and soon manicures. And while we’re soaking our feet, I plan to get to the bottom of this.It took years for Stefan to get to the
Three years later…“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Freddie! Happy Birthday to you!”My beautiful little boy—Frederico “Freddie” Dante Luciano—is three years old today. We’re surrounded by family, friends, and sugar-high toddlers, standing in a place I never thought we’d reach.Of course, the second we finish singing and Freddie blows out his candles, he immediately shoves his whole hand into the cake and shouts, “It’s chocolate cake! Mommy got me chocolate cake!”“Oh, Freddie! That was for everyone! You can’t put your hands in it,” I scold gently.“You say that like you don’t have two other cakes in the kitchen, cara mia. Let the boy enjoy his cake,” Dante says, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the top of my head.“Then you can be the one to put him to bed tonight,” I reply, earning loud laughter from Emily, who’s holding her and Josiah’s two-year-old daughter, Violet.“MAMA!” Freddie shouts, not at all pleased with my attention being elsewhere
Quinn’s POVRocco stares at me, completely gobsmacked. “W-w-what do you mean?”I roll my eyes. “Do you really think Grayson wouldn’t tell me everything? Especially after I caught the two of you fucking in the bathroom! Why are you keeping my best friend a secret?”“I’m not!” Rocco insists—but it’s clear neither of us believes that.I don’t even dignify it with a response. I just fold my arms over my very full boobs and even fuller belly and glare at him.“I’m not ashamed of being with Grayson!” he repeats, eyes wide and desperate. “I just…” His words trail off, like even he doesn’t know how to explain it.I glance around and realize we’re in an office. Thank God. I can’t stand for long without the baby pressing on my hips and making my legs go numb. I grab a chair and sink down, eyes locked on my brother-in-law as he begins to pace.“My family knows I’m gay,” he starts. “I came out to Bianca and Dante when I was fourteen, my mom at fifteen, and the Don when I was seventeen. And surpri
Quinn’s POV“It started right after Dante found you—when we were all meeting up at the hospital,” Grayson tells me.We’re sitting in the front seats of my car. He hasn’t looked at me once since we got in. I can tell he’s worried about how I’ll react to the story.That alone makes me sad. That he thinks I wouldn’t be happy for him. That he doubts I’d be on his side.“At first, we were just at the hospital at the same time. I noticed Rocco took his coffee the same way I did, so I started picking up drinks for both of us. Then he started bringing pastries. One thing led to another… and we ended up in a heavy makeout session, dry humping against the alley wall behind a café.”I blink. “And you weren’t going to tell anyone?” I ask. “Didn’t you think we’d be happy for you?”“It’s not that…” He sighs. “At first, we kept it quiet because of everything going on—your kidnapping, the baby, your dad… We didn’t want to add more chaos. And then it had been so long. We didn’t know how to bring it up.