Page 25 of Capo Dei Capi's Daughter

“Dante?”

“In here,” he calls out as he steps into the kitchen doorway. He is shirtless, the sun peeking through the windows detailing every bulge and ripple of his chiseled body. A pair of baggy grey sweatpants are sitting low on his hips again, accentuating his insanely cut Adonis belt. My eyes follow the v-line to the bulge in his pants. I gently chew my bottom lip to distract me from the soreness aching between my thighs.

“Hungry,” he cheekily lifts a brow and gestures for me to sit at the table.

“I’m good.”

“You need to eat,” he scoops scrambled eggs next to the bacon and pancakes already on the plates before placing them on the table and taking a seat.

“I’m not hungry,” I politely decline, while walking towards the freshly brewed coffee on the counter.

“Come here,” his voice suddenly deeper and more demanding.

Abruptly turning around, I am met with his furrowed brow and a slight scowl.

“I wasn’t asking,” his hand taps on his thigh.

“So, you’re just going to tell me what to do now?”

“Sometimes,” he stands from the table, steps towards me and places his hands on my face, “I think

I was very clear earlier. You are mine now.”

My mouth gapes a little.

“I will ensure you are taking care of yourself.”

I am literally at a loss for words.

“Come. Sit,” he pulls me to the table and onto his lap before pouring syrup over both of our plates.

Cutting a piece from my pancake, he brings it to my lips. When they part, he delicately slips it onto my tongue.

“Good girl,” his lips trail against my ear causing my thighs to clench, “You need to eat. Your body is going to need the strength for the things I have planned for you.”

The pancake catches in my throat at his words, and I let out a cough.

His left hand slides under the blanket and trails up my thigh while he continues to eat. His fingers graze over the crease of my hip before he places his hand on my stomach, gently holding me to him while we eat.

“I was gentle with you earlier and I took it easy on you,” he pulls the blanket from around me as his hand slides over my navel and between my thighs, “I won’t be this time. Consider it your punishment for refusing breakfast.”

His fingers pinch my clit, causing me to yelp and squirm on his lap.

If I was wearing panties, I am pretty sure they would be soaked right now.

Dante nonchalantly carries on eating his breakfast, while his fingers between my thighs continue to gently play with my clit.

“Along with begging and earning the right to come with me,” his finger dips inside of me before returning my arousal to my clit and demanding, “you will listen to me. Now eat.”

“Okay,” I fumble out the word while trying to push his hand from between my legs, “I’m eating.”

“No,cuore mio,” the words deep and firm as his finger slowly continues to make teasing circles around my clit.

“I can’t eat,” my words skirmish through his movements, “with you doing that.”

“You can,” his voice gravelly next to my ear, “and you’ll finish it if you want to come.”

Picking up my fork, I somehow struggle through eating the eggs on my plate. Picking at the pancake on my plate, my hips involuntarily begin to press against his hand, trying to help bring myself to an orgasm.

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