Page 95 of Shadows of Steel
Dante
I fucked up.
Even I can see that, and I don’t make a habit of acknowledging my mistakes. But my wife? She’s the exception to everything. Not that it changes a damn thing about the way my cock has been rock fucking hard all night.
Ever since she descended that staircase, wrapped in a dress that should be outlawed, I’ve been teetering on the edge of sanity. A masterpiece of temptation, sheer enough to drive any man to his knees. I know she isn’t wearing a bra. If I had to guess, nor panties either. The thought alone makes my fingers twitch with the need to slip beneath the fabric, push her legs apart, and feel just how wet she is.
A present, perfectly wrapped just for me to unravel.
And just when I thought I couldn’t possibly become more obsessed with my wife, she shot that fucking bitch. And that sealed it.
I halted Marta before she could so much as graze my cock, but I should have cast her aside the moment she dared trespass into my space. That was my failing. Not acting with the immediacy she deserved. Not deeming her existence worthy of my notice, until the damage had already been done.
And Harlow saw everything.
That’s the fire burning in her eyes now, not just fury, but something deeper, far more dangerous.
I watch my wife, taking in the slight part of her lips, the steady rise and fall of her chest. There’s anger, yes, but beneath it lies hunger—a hunger that mirrors mine, that has my restraint hanging by a thread.
Her gaze locks onto mine, dark, unflinching, threaded with challenge. She doesn’t look away.
And without breaking eye contact, she leans forward, a slow, knowing smirk playing at her lips as she presses the button on the panel beside her. The tinted privacy screen glides up, sealing us in, shutting out the world.
My patience snaps.
I grip the back of her neck, pulling her to me, dragging her onto my lap. Our mouths collide, brutal, desperate, a war of teeth and tongues. She meets my hunger with equal ferocity, hands clawing at my jacket, nails scraping over my jaw as she grinds against me. Between ragged breaths, she bites at my lower lip, her voice cutting through the haze. “I’m still fucking livid, so don’t mistake this for anything more than what it is. I’m just tired of using my fingers when I could be coming on your cock instead.”
I smirk against her mouth, dragging my hands down her back, palming her ass. “As I said, leonessa, your jealousy is very much welcomed.”
I capture her lips again, swallowing the little growl she gives me. “I know I fucked up.” My words are hot against her skin, lips trailing down the column of her throat. “I should have stopped her sooner. But she never touched me.”
Harlow tilts her head back, exposing more of her throat for me, but her next words are pure fire. “She shouldn't have gotten that close to you in the first place.”
I grip her hips, grinding her against my hardened cock. “It won’t happen again, leonessa.” My voice is a vow. “Now let me kiss you.”
She lets me.
For the rest of the drive, we devour each other. The car rolls to a stop, and we break apart, breathless, lips swollen, a mess of smudged lipstick and heated stares.
Harlow slides off my lap, smoothing down her dress, adjusting her hair. I watch her, my eyes dark, my patience long gone. “Stay here.”I say stepping out first, straightening my jacket.
I survey our surroundings, my men standing at rigid attention. “That bastard got too close today.” My voice is lethal in its precision. “Our bedroom is sacred. Make sure that mistake is never repeated.”
I turn to my men, my gaze glacial. “If it happens again, you’ll pay for it with your fucking lives.”
They nod in unison.
Satisfied, I round the car, opening Harlow’s door, and haul her into my arms. She gasps, her hands instinctively clutching my shoulders.
“Dante, I can walk.”
“I know.” I smirk, tightening my grip.
Behind us, Mario and Leonardo chuckle, but I don’t spare them a glance. My focus is singular.
I stride through the house, relentless in my pace, not stopping until we reach our bedroom. The moment we step inside, I push the door open and kick it shut behind us. As I set Harlow down, she tilts her head, eyes gleaming with challenge.
Neither of us moves. The air crackles, heavy with everything unsaid. Then, we collide.
