JeanTime seemed to slow down, too caught up in the now. I don’t know how much time has passed since Dante cleaned us up, we’ve been cuddling ever since. With the dirtied sheets thrown haphazardly on the floor, the both of us too lazy to change them, I lie half on top of Dante sprawled on the bare mattress. The feeling of Dante’s warm skin against mine is indescribable. We fit. That’s all there is to it. We fit perfectly together, like two pieces of the same puzzle.I could spend the rest of my days here on this bed, languidly kissing Dante with no real purpose other than to enjoy his presence. I’m sure he feels the same if the satisfied grin on his face is any indication.“We should stop,” I mumble against Dante’s lips, giving his lower lip a soft peck, earning one in return.Dante hums low, “Stop what?” he asks as he continues to plant soft kisses across my lips, cheeks, and nose.I couldn’t help the giggle that escapes from my lips as his nose rubs against mine. “This!” I answer p
DanteThis is fine, right? Jean said I could tell her anything, and I want to tell her everything. I know that I should tell her everything, but that doesn’t stop the voice in my head screaming at me to stop. Somehow, it knows that there’s a chance that Jean might turn away from me again after hearing my truth.And that terrifies me. The thought of losing her forever scares me more than anything. “Take your time,” Jean says, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. God, I don’t deserve her. She’s too pure, too perfect for me, yet here I am, a selfish asshole who wants her all to himself.“It’s about time I told you the whole truth about the family.” I manage to say finally. Jean may have been involved with some of our missions and she has immersed herself among the mafia don’s wives, but really she has only managed to scratch the surface of my world.She knows the glitz and glamour, and she knows about the blood and violence, but Jean doesn’t know about what happens in between, and the r
DanteTrying to understand me?Is that what I wanted when I decided to tell her all of this? I think so. My primary reason might be to scare her, to make her take a step back and stay here where she’s safe and protected, but knowing that Jean’s trying to understand me and my life… it opens a floodgate of emotions in me. Emotions that I didn’t know I possessed.“Jean,” I try again. “People are after me, not just Serafino. And these people will keep coming after me until they topple my empire over.”“Your empire?” Jean asks, her head tilting to one side, an action that I’ve always found adorable. “Ah, is it because you’re the one who sits on the throne?”What? How the hell does Jean come up with these unpredictable responses? This whole time I’ve been kept on my toes with how unprecedented Jean’s words are. They leave a strange impact on me which delays and inherently disturbs my thought process.This talk was supposed to be for Jean, to convince her to stay safe, but instead, it’s tu
JeanWe’ve talked well into the night that the dim lights of the penthouse are barely enough to illuminate our surroundings. But I welcome the darkness, this is where Dante and I feel most comfortable, as fucked up as we both are.“I’m sorry,” I whisper against his neck, and I feel Dante tighten his arms around me, pulling me even closer to his body. I allow myself to relish in Dante’s warmth for a solid minute before I pull away slowly, knowing that there’s still so much we need to talk about.Talk. That’s right. All this time we have been brushing off each other’s thoughts and feelings when what we should have been doing instead was talking.What was it that people say? Communication is the key to a good and healthy relationship? Wow. Maybe those counseling programs know what they’re talking about after all.I pull away just enough that I can look at Dante’s face if I crane my head enough. Resting my hands on his strong chest, I coax Dante to look at me with a small tap.“You are go
Dante Holy shit. Jean had just dropped the bomb on me. Children? I haven’t even thought about that. My breath hitches at the mere thought of a little version of Jean or me running around. A family. Family. A family. Not one built on loyalty, but my own flesh and blood. My family. I shake my head violently to rid myself of the thought. This is the first time Jean had mentioned kids, and I never even let myself dream about it if not for Jean. Wait, Jean didn’t mention if she wanted children with me. What if she wants to leave and start a family with someone else? Someone worthy of her. Someone who could provide safety for her and their family. But a man can dream. ~~~ It’s near midnight when I finally allow myself to climb up the stairs to check up on Jean. She had deliberately asked me for space to process her thoughts and I didn’t want to intrude on that before she was ready. But I was also starting to get worried. She skipped dinner after all. “Jean?” I call out softly afte
DanteHearing those words from Jean lights a fire in me, burning so hot that I have to grab the sheets beneath me to stop myself from fucking into her. I want to leave the task up to her, allowing her to take full control.Jean raises her thighs and drops down in one swift motion eliciting groans from both of us. Without warning, Jean leans back far enough to rest her hands on the tops of my thighs. She lets out a loud gasp and I just know this position slotted me deeper inside her, I could feel her clamping down on me like crazy.“S-so deep! You feel so d-deep like this,” Jean says as she rolls her hips. My hands fly to grab her thighs, gripping the porcelain skin tightly, wanting to leave marks all over them.“You look beautiful, love. You take my cock so well.” I murmur in encouragement. Moving my hand up from Jean’s thigh, I graze her skin, just a hair away from her soaked pussy. The wet sounds coming from it are music to my ears, her juices splattering across my abdomen. “Keep go
Jean“You promised,” I whine over breakfast, as I stuff my mouth with a spoonful of cereal.With a sigh, Dante finally looks up from his phone. He’s been on that thing since we woke up this morning, and no matter how bad I nagged him to tell me what was up, he wouldn’t budge.“I did promise that we’d talk,” he says tiredly, and it’s only seven in the morning. “But I also said to finish your breakfast first, if that could even be called breakfast.”I glare at him; how dare he insult cereal? But I don’t say anything for fear that he’d take back his decision to talk.“Okay, done,” I tell him, before getting up to take my used bowl to the sink. “Will you please tell me now why you’re being so secretive?”Dante huff out a short laugh, “I’m not being secretive, Jean. I just want you to eat,” he insists. “Come here.”I walk over to where Dante’s sitting on one of the kitchen counter stools. It could be my touch-hungry brain functioning because I instinctively place myself between Dante’s pa
JeanThe soft pelts of raindrops against our umbrellas drown the pastor’s soft words. The sudden presence of rain makes me believe that the universe mourns with our family.Twelve people. Today, we bury twelve people who sacrificed their lives for the sake of many. Today, we honor them.“Thank you for this,” I whisper, looping my arm with Dante’s resting my head on his arm. The closeness provides me comfort. Dante hums in response, but I know he too is emotional about this service.The service is beautiful. Despite the sudden rain, the fresh scent of flowers didn’t get washed away. Elegant arrangements of lilies and white daisies adorn the burial ground. Even with less than a dozen of us present, each family member’s eulogies were beautifully written.I admit I had something more barbaric in mind when I first thought of mafia family funerals, but I was pleasantly surprised to know that this is their norm. It’s not uncommon to lose members with such a dangerous job. As Daveed once told