The Bastard’s Betrayal by Katee Robert

Chapter 11

Dante knew a trap when he saw it, and this was most definitely a trap. Rose had come into the gym with the intention of letting this escalate, and it wasn’t simply because she wanted him too much to resist. She planned to use sex to cloud his judgment to further her end goal of escaping. A worthy plan, and it suited his purposes to allow this to play out. Sex was a double-edged sword, and he and Rose would continue to play this game of chicken until one of them faltered.

This close to having what he wanted most? It wouldn’t be him that missed a step.

But when she followed his order and sat on the bench, slowly spreading her thighs wide, and hooked the front of her panties to pull them to the side?

It took everything he had to stay on his feet and not fall to his knees before her. Best she not realize the power she had over him. She was ruthless enough that she wouldn’t hesitate to use it against him. He liked that about her, but he wasn’t going to hand her a weapon freely. He couldn’t help moving closer, though. “I fully intend to reclaim every part of you, Rosa. Starting with that aching little pussy practically begging for my tongue.”

She sucked in a breath. “Stop talking and put your money where your mouth is.”

“In a moment.” He didn’t trust himself to touch her yet. Not until they got one last order of business out of the way. “We didn’t use condoms before.” Oh, they had used them when they first started dating, but after a shared trip to the clinic to get tested, they’d forgone rubbers. He would go back to it if required, but he’d prefer to sink into Rose’s tight pussy without anything between them.

A small frown pulled her brows together. “I just got done telling you Romeo Capparelli fucked me seven ways to Sunday and you want to have sex without condoms?” Before he could answer, she charged on. “Beyond that, when we were together, you fucked me like three times a day to make up for the gaps when we couldn’t see each other, and you honestly expect me to believe you’ve gone three months without being with anyone else. Please.”

As if anyone but Rose would do once he’d decided on her. “In my defense, I did spend nearly an entire month recovering from my gunshot wounds.” He liked the way she blushed but refused to look away at that. Dante wasn’t usually one to give information freely, but she still believed it was all fake between them. If he had to continue to share the truth to combat that belief, it was a small price to pay. “Once I decided on you, it was only ever you, Rosa. No one else can compare.”

“And when was that?” She glared, but there was something almost vulnerable lingering in her eyes. “Don’t try to tell me it was when I shot you.”

It might be easier to believe than the truth. He shrugged. “It was at that art festival you dragged me to.”

She jolted. “What?”

At the time, he hadn’t been able to decide if her determination to hit all the random events that cropped up around New York were part of the mask or something she legitimately enjoyed. Dante had been half sure she was doing it to test him, to see when he’d finally put his foot down about going. She’d showed up that day with mirth in her hazel eyes and he’d known he was in for a day of being surrounded by too many people. “You had us each pick a painting.” A silly little game that he’d indulged because he was curious; would she pick as his girlfriend Rose or as Rose Romanov.

“We chose the same one,” she whispered. “I thought you were fucking with me.”

“I let you believe it.” The truth was he’d been strangely drawn to the abstract painting. It felt like violence and sex, and staring at it had made something go funny in his chest. The same something that went a little funny when he was around Rose. “It was real.”

“Stop it.”

He shook his head slowly. “We were both pretending in different ways, but that proved something to me. Down at our cores, we’re the same, Rosa.”

“Liar. Don’t try to use our shared history to manipulate me.”

“It’s the truth.” He leaned down slowly until their faces were even. “There’s only one liar in this room.”

“But—”

He pressed two fingers to her lips. Not pushing inside. Just silencing her. “But nothing. You forget, amata. I know Romeo Capparelli easily as well as you do. You weren’t dating. It was a business deal in the form of a marriage. He wouldn’t have fucked you and risked someone’s messy emotions ruining things. I bet he never even kissed you.” Dante waited, but she didn’t rush to throw more infuriating words at him. Good. “With all that said, the moment you were married, he would have claimed every part of you.” The very thought of the wedding night, of Romeo laying so much as a finger on Dante’s woman, of… “He would have wanted you pregnant as quickly as possible.”

Rose sucked in a breath. “It was in the negotiations, but that’s irrelevant.”

Unsurprising, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. Dante lowered his hand slowly. “It’s not irrelevant. Your pussy is mine, Rosa. And I’ll be reclaiming her now, so stop arguing semantics and tell me what you want. Condom or no?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“I don’t give a fuck about should or shouldn’t. Those words aren’t for us. Yes or no?”

He found himself holding his breath as she fought some internal battle. Saying yes would be a huge step in showing that, regardless of what she thought she should do, she actually trusted him. At least to keep her safe.

Finally, Rose shook her head. “We can’t.”

“What did I just say about—”

“We can’t, Dante. You didn’t snatch my birth control pills when you snatched me. It’s only been a little over twenty-four hours, I think, but it’s not worth the risk.”

For a moment, the temptation to press her on it nearly overwhelmed him. If there were a baby involved… No. Damn it, no. He hadn’t thought about kids, to be perfectly honest. It had never really occurred to him to worry about it overmuch. Breeding heirs was Matteo’s job once he finally settled down and married someone suitable. With Dante’s history, he was more suited to being a warrior rather than a caretaker. If…when…he and Rose had children, they would want for nothing and fear nothing because he would stand between them and whatever threats arose. Hell, he’d go one step further and ensure there were no threats to rise.

Apparently he did want kids.

With Rose.

But not yet.

He frowned. “Where can we get birth control pills?”

“Easy answer; take me home.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Enough talking. We’ll use rubbers.” He bent down and picked her up, ignoring her protests, and stalked out of the gym and into the main living room. He’d fuck her in the gym later. Right now, he wanted to take his time. He dumped her on the couch and moved to flick the fireplace back on. It wasn’t overly cold, but she had on next to nothing, and he didn’t want her getting chilled. “Take off your shirt, Rosa.”

“Condoms.”

“Si.” He yanked open the drawer in the center of the coffee table and grabbed a handful of them. “Good enough?”

She stared. “How long have those been in there?”

“They’re replaced monthly.”

She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t your murder-cabin, then. It’s your fuck-cabin.”

“This is my cabin, and sometimes that means I bring people here I want to fuck, si.” He dropped the condoms on the coffee table and planted his hands on either side of the pile. “Are you feeling jealous, amata? None of them compared to you.”

“I’m not jealous.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and dragged it up and over her head. Rose tossed the shirt away and leaned back a bit on her elbows. The move arched her back and put her tits on full display. They were perfect and she knew it. She lifted a brow, silently challenging him.

He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she constantly provoked him because she trusted him not to cross the line. He liked it a lot. Dante moved around the coffee table so he could sit on it in front of her. Not much space separated them, giving him a front-row view of how her breasts shook with each breath, her dark-pink nipples tight and distended. “Spread your thighs, nice and wide. Let me see you.”

She obeyed slowly, her breathing picking up without him so much as touching her. Her panties, a bright-blue thong, were already wet and tangled from their early interaction, and they gaped, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her pussy. He hadn’t noted it in the shower because he’d been too focused on how good she felt clamped around his fingers; now there were no distractions. She looked different here, too. “You waxed for him.”

“Da.” She obviously meant for that to come out sharp, but she was panting too hard to pull it off.

Dante hooked two fingers around the front of her panties, tugging the damp fabric from her skin. He shifted his fingers up and down, dragging his knuckles lightly over her. He didn’t have preferences about grooming one way or another—she was Rose, and therefore, he wanted her—but knowing she waxed for another man, that she intended to let him touch her like this…

Jealouswas too tame a word.

“Dante.”

“Hush, I’m thinking.” He kept up the slow movements, very aware of how she became wetter and wetter in response. Her pussy fucking bloomed for him.

Would it have bloomed for Romeo?

“You’re mine, Rosa.”

“Nyet.”

“Si.” He held her gaze and pressed two fingers into her. “This pussy, this body, that fucking brain of yours. Mine.”

“Nyet.” But she spread her legs wider and rolled her hips, urging his fingers deeper. “It’s just sex.”

“Always the lies with you.” He twisted his wrist, finding that spongey spot inside her that had her sucking in a breath. “Will you pretend you’re faking this, too? No. No more lies, Rosa. You’re going to come for me again and again until I’m satisfied, and then I’m going to fuck this pretty pussy until you forget his name.”

“It’ll never happen.”

Why did she keep fighting him even as her body took him eagerly?

Why did he like it so much?

“You make me crazed.”

“Dante.” She cupped her breasts, rolling her hips as she tried to fuck his fingers. “God, that feels good. Don’t stop.” She reached out a shaking hand. “Kiss me.”

“No.” He pressed a third finger into her, staring at her lying mouth. He wanted to taste her again more than he wanted his next breath, but he wouldn’t. “Not until you tell me truth instead of the bullshit you keep spouting.”

“But—”

“Not until you stop fucking lying.” He went to his knees in front of her and fisted the pathetic excise for panties in either hand. One good jerk and the fabric ripped down the center. Rose barely had time to gasp before he descended and kissed her pussy.

The same, but different. Everything was the same but so fucking different.

He gripped her thighs and pressed her legs up and out, spreading her obscenely. He backed enough to stare down at her pussy and ass, right there for the taking.

“Dante.” She dug her fingers into his hair and tugged. “Please.”

As much as part of him wanted to torment her as long as he could, his woman was in need, and he wouldn’t leave her hanging like this. Not when the scent of her desire nearly had him coming in his shorts. He let her guide him back to the apex of her thighs and licked her from front to back before reversing course. Even as she started shaking, her legs fighting his grip, he took his time reacquainting himself with her until he worked his way up to her clit. He exhaled against the sensitive bud, making her whimper in response.

Dante gave up all teasing at that whimper. He sealed his mouth to her pussy, working her clit in the vertical strokes she liked so much. She cried out, bucking against his hold, but he held her down and didn’t relent. Breathless Russian spilled from her lips in an increasing crescendo, and then she was coming, crying out loud enough to nearly be labeled a scream.

He didn’t stop.

He kept at her clit, bringing her over that crest again and again until her body went limp. It wasn’t enough. A few measly orgasms weren’t anywhere near enough to erase three months of absence, to blot out the fact he’d almost lost her for good to Romeo’s bed. No, not that. Never that. Even if she’d married the fucker, Dante would have killed him and taken her anyway. She was his. Once she got over her pride, she’d admit as much.

Dante moved away from her pussy, dragging his mouth along one of her thighs and then the other. She blinked down at him, clearly dazed. “Someone has something to prove.”

“That’s not what this is, Rosa.” He kissed his way up her body, maneuvering her onto her back on the couch so he could settle between her legs. “This is a new beginning.”

She reached up with a trembling hand and touched his temple, smoothing down the hair there, but she didn’t respond with words. That was okay. He had nothing but time, and she’d already paved the way for them taking their first steps into the future he wanted. Right now, with her limp and sated beneath him, all the bullshit and theatrics felt justified. This was what he wanted more than anything. Forever.

“Dante.” She reached around him to run her hands down his back and dip them beneath the band of his shorts. “Kiss me.”

“No.”

She blinked. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’ll kiss you.” He met her gaze. “When you admit that you want this and we’re endgame.”

“I already admitted I wanted this.” She smiled a little. “You have evidence of how much I wanted it all over your face.”

Maybe another man would consider that enough. She was willing, and he wanted to taste her lips again. Dante was stronger than those weak fucks. He wanted it all, and if he had to deny himself even as he denied her, so be it. “You’re so damn sly with your words, Rosa.” He returned her smile slowly. “You never cease to be a challenge.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a challenge.”

“There you go again, lying to me.” He let his weight rest more fully against her, enjoying the way she shivered in response. Dante dug one hand into her hair and tugged her head to the side so he could kiss her neck, working his way down to the spot that always made her go weak for him. It happened again. The moment he set his teeth against her skin, she gave another of those delicious whimpers and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Dante,” Rose gasped. “Dante, please.” She turned her face to press kisses along his temple, his cheek, his jaw.

He had to move away now, to flip her onto her stomach to keep control, to do something, but when her lips brushed the corner of his mouth and she arched up to rub herself along the length of his cock, his brain shorted out. That was the only explanation that made any sense, because one moment he was firmly planning Rose’s continued seduction, and the next, his mouth was on hers.

She tasted like…victory and home and everything he’d ever wanted.

Dante’s leash snapped.