Chapter 7 - THE FIRE AND THE SILK
(Word count: ~1,540 words)
The kiss wasn't gentle—it was a sudden, breathless collision of years of built-up desire.
Dante’s lips met mine with a fierce, possessive demand that made my head spin. His hand tightened in my hair, tilting my head back as his tongue brushed against mine, taking complete control of my senses.
I let out a soft gasp, throwing my arms around his broad shoulders, pulling his heavy, muscular frame closer to mine.
Every fear, every logical argument about professional boundaries and social differences melted into pure, undeniable heat. Dante wrapped his other arm around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the cushions and pulling me directly into his lap.
I sat astride his thighs, my hands buried in his dark, thick hair, feeling the hard line of his chest pressing against mine. The subtle scent of his expensive cologne mixed with the crackling woodsmoke of the fireplace, creating an intoxicating bubble where nothing existed except the two of us.
When he finally pulled back to catch his breath, his forehead rested against mine, his dark eyes burning with a dark, romantic fire that took my breath away.
“Tell me to stop, Tessa,” Dante rasped out, his chest heaving as his hands rested possessively on my hips. “Tell me right now, because if you don't... I’m never letting you leave this house.”
I looked into his eyes—seeing the raw vulnerability of a powerful man who had completely surrendered his heart to me.
“Don't stop,” I whispered softly.
A low, primal growl escaped Dante’s throat. He stood up in one fluid motion, holding me securely against his chest as if I weighed nothing at all. He carried me out of the library, up the private staircase, and into his grand master bedroom on the third floor.
He set me down gently beside his massive king-sized bed. The room was illuminated only by the soft glow of the city lights shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Dante didn't rush. He reached out, his long fingers slowly unbuttoning the front of my silk blouse, his dark eyes never leaving mine. As the fabric parted, his warm hands slid over my waist, pulling me against his body.
“You are so beautiful, Tessa,” he murmured, pressing soft, lingering kisses down my throat, making me shiver with delight. “So impossibly beautiful.”
That night, beneath the dark silk sheets of Dante Caruso’s bed, two different worlds collapsed into one. There were no mafia bosses, no nurses, no bodyguards, and no secrets. There was only a man who loved with violent devotion, and a woman who had finally found a home in the arms of the most dangerous man in Boston.
When morning broke over the misty horizon, I woke up wrapped tightly in Dante’s arms.
His heavy arm was draped securely over my waist, pulling my back flush against his warm, muscular chest. His breath was steady and warm against the back of my neck.
I lay there in the quiet stillness, looking down at the heavy gold signet ring on his finger, feeling a deep, profound sense of peace that I had never experienced in my life.
Dante stirred behind me. He pressed a soft kiss between my shoulder blades, his arm tightening around my waist.
“Good morning, beautiful,” his deep morning voice rumbled softly against my spine.
I turned around in his arms, smiling up at his handsome, unbrushed face. “Good morning.”
Dante reached up, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his dark eyes full of an undeniable, permanent warmth.
“I spoke to my legal team at 6:00 AM,” Dante announced casually.
I blinked in surprise. “6:00 AM? Why?”
Dante smiled—a slow, wicked grin that made him look breathtakingly handsome.
“Because I bought your home-health agency,” he said smoothly.
I sat up straight, pulling the silk sheet to my chest, staring at him in utter shock. “You what?”
“I bought the agency,” Dante repeated, leaning back against the pillows, looking entirely pleased with himself. “All eighty shares. I am now the majority owner and Chairman of the Board.”
“Dante Caruso!” I gasped, hitting his chest with a pillow. “Are you insane? You bought an entire medical agency just because of me?”
Dante caught the pillow effortlessly, pulling me back down against his chest and pinning me beneath him with a soft laugh.
“I bought it so nobody could ever assign you to another patient again,” Dante whispered, his face inches from mine, his eyes burning with intense devotion. “You are officially retired from home healthcare, Ms. Monroe.”
“And what is my new job title?” I asked, fighting back a smile.
May you like
Dante leaned down, his lips brushing softly against mine.
“Future Mrs. Caruso,” he whispered.
