Page 9 of Brutal Royals

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Or, it would kill me eventually.

That’s how it went on for the next few days. Dante would leave for work down at the docks, while I stayed home making endless phone calls. Every single one of the men under my father’s control agreed to back me when it came to the vote, probably because they knew they’d die if they didn’t. As for our allies on the Commission…Mateo was dealing with that. I let him, as he’d known those men far longer. And I wasn’t so sure they’d listen to a woman. But with Mateo’s support, they would eventually. At least, I hoped they would.

I’d been a little worried about having to play this new part with Dante, but he hadn’t pressed me for anything other than a simple good morning each day. But I knew it couldn’t go on forever. Right now, I had the excuse that I was grieving. I was sure that he was giving me the space I needed to mourn before he would continue his plans to gain my trust. It gave me just enough time to steel myself for what I had to do.

The night of the vote came too soon. It would be held during one of my mother’s charity galas, the perfect cover for so many important and powerful men convening in one place. Dons from all over the country had flown in this week, many reaching out to me to discuss the vote. The Rossi’s from the West Coast had arrived a few days ago, with the Guarnieri’s from Chicago arriving just yesterday.

My mother had thrown herself into this event. It was a good distraction from her grief, so I let her do as she wished. She was raising money for the local police department—a bribe to allow my transition to run smoothly. I had to admit that it was smart, and I would never have thought of it.

But I should have, I thought as I pulled my clothes for tonight from the closet. That was something a Don would have known to plan for. I still had a lot to learn.

The Gianfranco suit and pencil skirt I’d picked out yesterday would be perfect for tonight. It was classy without being too feminine. Powerful without being intimidating. The skirt was tight but breathable, falling just to my knees so as not to be too scandalous or too modest. The suit cinched at my waist, flaring out over my hips. The soft material was black as a starless night, bottomless, making the white button-up I wore beneath it brilliant. Add in a pair of red-bottom black heels, and the look was complete.

I twisted my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck, spraying down the fly-aways lightly. For makeup, I went as minimal as possible. I didn’t want these powerful men to see nothing but a made-up doll they could use for their own needs. I needed to remind them exactly who I was.

“Sienna?” Dante’s voice came from the bedroom door.

I sauntered out, poking the small diamond studs through my ears. “Yes?”

He froze halfway through the door. Those steel eyes locked on me. I let them travel down the length of my body, hungrily taking in every detail. The way the stretchy fabric of the skirt clung to my ass and how the suit jacket accentuated my curves. Almost lazily, his eyes flicked up to mine.

“You look good,” he said finally, closing the door softly.

I refused to allow myself to react to his words, though there was a tightness in my chest. “Thank you.”

Dante gave me a slow smile. “I almost don’t want you to walk out that door looking like that. What would the other Dons think?”

I ignored him, finishing up with my earrings as he stalked around me. His breath tickled the back of my bare neck, sending goosebumps down my arms. Heat clung to me as his hands slipped down my hips, fingers dragging against the soft fabric of the skirt. I could feel his hardness pressed against my ass. At least that was one thing he couldn’t lie about.

Turning, I gazed up at him, putting everything I had into this little act. Pressing against him, I let the skirt ride up just a bit, the material slipping over the ridge of his hardness. “Don’t mess up my look. I have to dress the part for tonight.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, lips brushing along my neck. Heat flared in the pit of my stomach at his touch, and I hated myself for it. “But we still have some time….”

He let the words hang in the air, pressed between our bodies. I glanced up at him, channeling that inner bitch. “Not today, Dante.”

Twisting out of his grip, I could almost feel the spike of anger at being teased and rejected. Before I could make it to the door, he snatched my wrist, pulling me back into his chest. My first reaction was to lift these pretty little heels and stab him right in the balls. But I couldn’t do that. Yet.

“Do I need to remind you who put that ring on your finger?” he growled as I pointlessly tried to struggle. Rough fingers gripped my chin, pulling my mouth to his.

The kiss ripped the air from my lungs, short-circuiting any thought I had in my head. Before I realized it, I was melting into his arms, giving him exactly what he wanted. Hands yanked my skirt up around my waist, not caring if it ripped or not. I was about to warn him not to fucking destroy my expensive outfit when his fingers slipped beneath my panties.

I gasped as they skimmed across the most sensitive part, slipping between the soft folds. I knew I was already wet, a pulsing need driving my hips forward to meet him. Slowly, he let a finger plunge into me, pumping slowly. Teasing me.

He pulled back, leaving my lips cold and wanting. Before I could protest, he had me on my stomach, legs over the edge of the bed. My skirt was wrapped around my waist, revealing everything. In one move, my panties were tied around my ankles, trapping me there. His hands spread against my ass cheeks, pulling them apart to slowly reveal my already aching pussy.

“Dante…” Maybe I’d been wrong to do this. Maybe it had been a mistake. I shouldn’t let him get close. There were other ways to make him think I was his. But it was too late.

My back arched as the heat of his tongue met my skin, lapping at the molten wetness between my thighs. Oh, God. Any thoughts of this being a mistake flew from my head as he continued to taste me. He spread my cheeks wider, allowing himself to go deeper, plunging his tongue into my depths. My fingers curled into the blankets, pleasure building to the point of pain. And just before the release…

He pulled away. Crying out, I reached for him, not wanting him to stop. He sat back, mouth glistening with my juices as he watched me hungrily. He knew what I wanted. What I needed.

“Just so you won’t forget….” His fingers worked the buttons of his suit pants, popping them free. His length bobbed as it was released, a hint of his desire beading at the tip.

A soft moan escaped my lips as he plunged into me, the wetness making it all too easy for him to slip inside. With his hands propped on either side of my hips, his biceps bulged as he held himself hilt-deep within me. Both of us were out of breath as he slid out before impaling me again, pinning me to the bed.

“God, you’re always so fucking tight,” he groaned, his hips rolling forward.

His pace quickened until there’s only the rolling feeling of our bodies moving as one. His cock thrusted into me over and over, long, deep strokes that had me burying my face into the blankets just to stifle my cries of pleasure. For the moment, I didn’t give two shits about anything else other than the heat of his body against my back, the feel of his length impaling me, bringing us both over the edge.


Tags: Ana West Romance