Chapter 98: You’re My Fiancée Now
Dante’s POV
My control was hanging by a thread, one that shrank with every small gasp escaping her lips, every arch of her body into my touch.
Unable to resist any longer, my free hand moved up, abandoning the cloth to trace the curve of her jaw with my fingertips. Her skin was hot and silk–soft.
I traced her cheekbone, then moved lower to her full, wet lips.
Her mouth parted on a shaky exhale, and I felt her warm breath against my fingers.
Torturously, I traced the edge of her lips, feeling them part wider beneath my touch. My thumb dipped just inside, grazing her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.
Her tongue darted out, whether intentionally or not, I couldn’t tell, and the wet heat of it against my thumb sent a bolt of pure lust straight through me.
I leaned in, bringing my mouth close to hers, so close our breaths mingled, so close I could already taste her on my lips.
Almost kissing.
Almost giving in.
Almost losing this battle entirely.
Gianna’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and I watched her pupils dilate further, her lips parting in silent invitation.
Just one taste, something dark whispered in my mind. Just one kiss.
But I tore myself away abruptly. The washcloth slipped from my fingers into the water as I reached for a larger bath towel instead.
Her eyes flashed with confusion before shifting into a mix of disappointment and anger.
Good. She should be angry. She should feel a fraction of the frustration burning through me.
“All clean,” I bit out, my voice harder than I meant it to be.
I stood, spreading the towel wide between my hands, fixing her with a look that was anything but gentle. “Step out.”
It wasn’t a request.
She glared at me in defiance, and it made me want to drag her from the water myself.
“Now, Gianna.”
Slowly, she rose from the water like some kind of vengeful goddess, and I had to lock every muscle in my body to keep from reaching for her.
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Water slid down her body in smooth streams, gliding over her shoulders, between her breasts, down her stomach, and to the apex of her thighs.
When she stepped closer, I wrapped the towel around her slowly, the soft fabric clinging to her wet skin. My hands lingered a second too long at her waist before I pulled back, forcing myself to focus.
“Stand here,” I ordered, guiding her to face the giant bathroom mirror. Her reflection stared back at me, hair in a messy bun, eyes uncertain but burning with that defiance I could never tame.
Going to the bathroom cabinet, I retrieved a small towel and the healing ointment, something I kept for exactly these situations, though I’d never needed to use it before. Not like this.
When I came back, she was watching me through the mirror. The towel wrapped around her body clung to every curve, droplets of water sliding down her neck.
“Turn around,” I murmured.
She did, slowly.
I loosened the towel and let it fall to the floor. I picked up a smaller towel, running it gently across her skin, drying her slowly, her shoulders, her arms, down the curve of her spine. Every soft exhale she released tested my restraint.
I squeezed the ointment onto my fingers, and my voice dropped. “This might be cold.”
She flinched slightly when I touched her shoulder but didn’t move away. My fingers rubbed slow circles into the bruise there, the cool ointment blending with the heat between us.
I trailed lower, to her collarbone, tracing its delicate line, down to her breasts. I lingered longer than necessary, rubbing carefully, my thumbs brushing against her skin in slow, teasing motions that made her breath catch.
“This will help them fade faster,” I said, my eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
“Why?” she asked softly, her voice edged with confusion and something that might have been hurt. “I thought you wanted me marked, so everyone would know I’m yours.”
“I do.” My hands continued their work, sliding down to a bruise on her inner thigh. “But not like this. Not because I lost control.”
Her eyes widened in the mirror, shock registering across her features. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. The admission had clearly caught her off guard, me admitting fault.
When I finished, I stepped back.
“Come,” I said, my tone gentler now. I led her back into the bedroom, guiding her by the hand back to the room.
“Sit,” I ordered.
She rolled her eyes but obeyed, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “Not like I have a choice.”
“Good thing you know,” I replied playfully, unable to suppress my smirk as I strode toward the closet.
“Hold on,” I called out, pulling open a drawer, rummaging until I found what I wanted, soft blue lace panties and a matching bra. Then I moved along the hangers until I found a dress, the same shade of blue. It was simple
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Chapter 98: You’re My Fiancée Now
+25 Bonus
but elegant, fabric that would drape over her body without irritating the marks.
When I turned back, she was still sitting there, naked, legs crossed, watching me with that smart little smile.
“Seriously?” She raised an eyebrow, a hint of her usual fire returning. “Taking this fiancée duty thing a bit far, aren’t you? First tending my wounds like I’m some delicate flower, now picking out my underwear?”
“I can dress myself, you know,” she continued, her tone goading. “I’ve been doing it for over twenty years. Now you’re choosing my dresses. What next? You’ll tell me what to eat? When to breathe?”
I held the dress out to her, eyes narrowing playfully. “Maybe. Depends on how much you fight me.”
She arched her brow. “You like it when I fight you.”
I stepped closer, until I was right in front of her, my voice low. “Sometimes. But not always. You don’t always have to keep your guard up, Gianna. Let me take care of you for once.”
Her lips parted slightly, whatever witty reply she had fading in her throat.
“You’re my fiancée now,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Everything’s different.”
“Fine,” she muttered, looking away. “But don’t think this means anything.”
“Of course not,” I said, though we both knew it was a lie.
I knelt before her with the panties. “Lift.”
She raised her hips. I slid the lace up her legs slowly, my fingers brushing along her skin. I adjusted them carefully, making sure they sat comfortably.
“Arms up.”
She complied, and I fastened the bra, taking care with the straps. My fingers lingered perhaps longer than necessary, and I pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder.
“Stop that,” she mumbled, but there was no heat in it.
I smirked. “There.” I offered my hand to help her stand.
She took it, rising gracefully as I led her toward the sitting area.
“Now, let’s have breakfast. You need to eat.”
“Is that a command or a request?” she asked with a trace of sarcasm.
“With you, pretty doll?” I smiled slightly, letting my fingers trail down her arm. “Always a command. But I’m asking nicely.”
“How generous.”
“I thought so.” I gestured toward the sofa near the window where breakfast had been laid out. The morning light spilled across the spread, fresh fruit, warm bread, eggs, slices of cheese, pastries, and coffee that filled the
room with its rich scent.
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Chapter 98. You’re My Fiancée Now
+25 Bonus
She eyed the distance to the sofa, then back at me. “You’re really going to pretend we’re some normal couple having breakfast together?”
“We’re engaged, aren’t we?” I tapped the ring on her finger. “That makes us a couple.”
“Sit,” I pointed toward the plush cushions.
She sat at the far end, putting as much distance between us as the furniture would allow, then muttered, “A ring doesn’t change what you did. Doesn’t change what you are.”
“Oh, pretty doll, that’s never been in question.” I settled onto the sofa and immediately shifted closer to her.
She glared. “Personal space exists, you know.”
I ignored her protest, closing the distance until our thighs almost touched. I reached for her chin, forcing her gaze to meet mine. My thumb stroked along her jawline possessively. “There’s no more personal space between us. You’re mine now. And I take care of what’s mine.”
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