Page 22 of Pain and Pleasure

Ricky lets go of me and winks before leaving my bedroom, leaving Dante and I alone.

“You can come in. You don’t have to hover like a bat in the shadows,” I tell him.

He clears his throat and walks in, shutting the door behind him. His hair is disheveled, and I notice that his five o’clock shadow is now a full-blown beard in bloom. I like it. I like the rough and edgy look it gives him. The black hairs line his jaw and shape around his full lips. My fingers itch to get lost in it. To tug on it while he fucks me.

I sit down on the bed and pat the spot next to me. He walks over and sits uncomfortably. It makes me smile because he looks somewhat unsure and vulnerable, treading my waters lightly. It’s a change, one that I welcome. I can’t chastise him forever, he may be the devil, but he’s not at fault for others’ words.

“You’ve already heard everything, so you don’t need to ask, but there is something I want to know.”

He looks at me carefully, his amber eyes holding emotions that I’m sure he doesn’t show to just anyone. Caution, trepidation, anxiety. Things that are not Dante.

“Ask me anything,” he says in a low voice. It makes me raise my eyebrows at him. He usually gives me an inch, but today it feels like a mile. So I’m going to both take it and run with it.

“First, who is she? Who is she to you?”

He clears his throat, resting his forearms on his pants.

“My old assistant...and ex-lover.”

I nod, still keeping up with my questions.

“And what’s her actual name?”

“Isabella. Isabella Suarez. Her mother worked for my father, and we grew up together in Columbia. She eventually moved to California with my father and I, helping us oversee our business in the states.”

“And when did you last fuck her?”

His eyes snap to mine and I hold his gaze sternly, not backing down. He narrows his eyes at me while he answers.

“Last year, right before she was fired here for stealing over twelve grand from our accounts. She’s been trying to get both her job and her place in my bed back since.”

I rub my eyes, feeling tired all of a sudden, but I refuse to quiet the questions in my mind anymore.

“And why haven’t you let her back into your bed? It’s easier than hiring back a thief.”

His eyes stay narrowed on me, as if he can’t believe I would ask him that.

“Because not only do I not want her in my bed, but also because there’s no room in it for her since I’ve had you, Emmie.”

It’s an honest response, I see it in his eyes. We stare at each other for a minute, lost in each other's gaze and truth.

“I’m not mad at you, you know. I’m just confused. I don’t know these people in your world, I barely even know much about you...still, even after you’ve touched the most secret parts of me.”

I blush and he leans towards me, his lips at my ear.

“I’ll take those secret parts of you over anything, over anyone, at all times. What else do you want to know?” He whispers in my ear, his hand traveling to my thigh, gripping it slightly. I swallow audibly, my eyes closing at his dark touch.

“What's your last name?”

“Moreno,” he answers immediately.

Dante Moreno.It rolls off his tongue like honey, sticky, sweet and smooth.

“And how old are you?” His lip quirks up in the corner, giving me a smirk. A lock of his smoothed-back hair falls over his eye. It makes me want to smile back at him. He’s so fucking beautiful.

“I’ll be celebrating my fortieth birthday next month.”

He’s almost forty and literally looks like a Greek God.

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