Page 78 of The Don's Secret Heir

Dario presses his thumb against my clit and I gasp, rocking my hips faster.

He groans against my throat and reaches between us to unbutton his slacks. He frees his erection and I bite my lip, putting my hand around his base.

Dario gasps in a ragged breath, his hands lighting on my waist as I position myself over him. I slowly lower myself down, enveloping him inch by inch, slow, bracing myself on his shoulders.

He grits his teeth, panting against my throat before biting down there. I moan, starting to bounce on his cock.

He lets out a low groan that’s almost a growl, taking hold of my hips as he moves me along his length. My breasts bounce out of the nightie’s bodice and he catches one of my nipples between his teeth, dragging them gently across the peak.

I cry out, my orgasm approaching swiftly.

“Please please please,” I chant, and Dario chuckles, starting to thrust up as I come down.

I go nearly limp and he does it again, his grip bruising on my hips as he slams up into me.

“Please, what,belissima?” he pants.

“Please make me come,” I gasp, and then I do, falling apart on top of him, crying out his name and digging my nails deep into his shoulders.

When it’s over I collapse against him, breathing hard against his skin.

He kisses along my neck and my collarbone, sweetly, his breath hot against the goosebumps popping up along my flesh.

I tremble slightly in his arms, and he rubs up and down my arms.

“Are you cold, baby?”

Baby. Li. Belissima.

It’s like five years ago all over again, like all the nights I spent at that goddamn penthouse, a place I’d thought we’d fallen in love. To know now that it’s “just a place he takes women” makes me so angry I could spit.

I climb off him, pulling away even as he tries to grasp me back into his arms.

“Don’t go,” he pleads, but I’m not listening. Not looking at him.

The door shuts behind me and I don’t look back.

I can’t.

If I do, I’ll be lost.

20

DARIO

My head pounds. I don’t remember a lot about the night before, but from Liana’s reaction this morning, I need to apologize.

But first, I need a shower. Badly.

I wash away the sweat and the scotch and the French perfume and dress casually in a pair of sweats and a tank top.

I don’t have any plans today—we're all waiting with bated breath for Friday, when we’ll find out what Beth knows—if anything.

I run a hand through my damp hair and exit my bedroom, walking down the hall to Liana’s room. I knock softly on the door.

“What?” she barks, and I puff out my cheeks before I swing the door open.

She sits on the edge of the bed, dressed now in a sundress.